Book — Vermeersch, Tolerance
First Section: Doctrinal Questions
I. Different Kinds of Tolerance and
Intolerance.
Summary : The idea of intolerance cannot be associated with that of the Catholic Church.—That Church put an end to the most formidable intolerance—viz., that which was based on political considerations.—If we divide tolerance into its three kinds, the Church is a great school of private tolerance ; its ecclesiastical intolerance is free from reproach; and in the civil order it condemns the intolerance of many Protestants and jurists, and contents itself with claiming a reasonable protection of the truth, inspired by the general principles of good government.—This civil intolerance, as contained in the Catholic doctrine, is different in character from pagan intolerance, the intolerance of Islam, and revolutionary intolerance. — Misuse of the word “ tolerance.”
The sons of the Revolution and the various anti- Catholic sects boast that they are the authors—or, at least, the official representatives—of tolerance, and maintain that intolerance is the peculiar symbol of Catholic principles.
It is simply juggling with words to make such statements. In reality, no one professes an absolute intolerance, but every man regulates his conduct more or less according to circumstances ; and if no party can claim a monopoly of tolerance, it is still more unjust to associate the idea of intolerance with that of the Catholic Church. Was not the first act of Christianity to abolish an intolerance—viz., that of a religion instituted for the use of a political community ?
If we take tolerance in its generic sense, in which it is divided into private, ecclesiastical, and civil, the Church is a great school of private tolerance, for it forbids hatred and pride, and teaches mutual forbearance and inviolable respect for the person of man. The angry impatience of the fanatic contradicts the principles of the Church, whose noblest sons have carried their patience and endurance to the point of heroism. What a distance there is between the declamatory generosity of Victor Hugo1 and the all-embracing benevolence of men like St. Francis of Sales, St. Vincent de Paul, and so many missionaries and Sisters of Charity ! The reader will appreciate in this connection the sublime language in which Cardinal Diepenbrock, Catholic Prince-Bishop of Breslau in the nineteenth century, professed this tolerance : “ In spite of the division of religious bodies, which is always lamentable, though permitted by the will of God, and which we must therefore endure with patience and in a spirit of penitence for faults committed, all right- minded men may, and should, profess a mutual esteem, a generous tolerance, and a Christian charity, founded on the presumption that both sides are in good faith.”1
1 It cost him nothing to write a blasphemous line like this : “ I would have saved Judas, if I had been Jesus Christ ”; but it would have cost him something to forget the criticisms of Louis Veuillot. His bitter and insatiable animosity is well known.
1 Charge quoted by G. Goyau in L’Allemagne Religieuse, Le Catholicisme, t. 3, p. 200.
Faithfulness to God and charity to men undoubtedly compel the Church to maintain her ecclesiastical intolerance. But this intolerance does not imply any outward constraint. It specifies the conditions on which a man may or may not remain a Catholic ; it defines the points to be believed, the duties to be fulfilled, under pain of breaking with the Church or leaving her pale. If some rebellious children, trying to reconcile opposite propositions, have complained of the intolerance of the Church, sensible persons, even non-Catholics, have always admitted its lawfulness and even its necessity. Without this intolerance the Church can neither teach nor guide. She ceases to unite men’s hearts and minds, or to form a communion of souls ; she loses the very reason of her existence.2
2 See the testimonies quoted in the section on Ecclesiastical Tolerance, p. 42.
Finally, in the civil order, the Catholic doctrine, in distinguishing the Church from the State, began by creating the possibility of tolerance. It absolutely rejects the intolerance supported by Protestants, and again recently contemplated by Liberal Rationalists. The latter, returning to old ideas, see no ideal but that of the State and unity, while the Church hopes for everything from the truth. It is religious truth that the Church wishes to see free and safe in society, that she wishes to preserve safe to the multitude of simple and ignorant persons whom she desires to protect from seduction. Loving men and truth as she does, she would have the public authorities take up arms in this twofold cause, as a father for love of his children protects religion in his home. Uniting religion and morality, she would have the protection that is given to morality logically extended to the true religion. Such is the civil intolerance which the Church preaches. This intolerance is measured by times and circumstances, and always stops short of injustice, for fear of causing some greater evil. Anyone who admits that the State is bound to promote the welfare of the community and to defend the weak must see that this intolerance is only a particular application of the principles of good government ; and it finds its limit in those very principles, for the same common good which, in theory, calls for the prudent interference of the State in favour of religion may in particular circumstances recommend the State to abstain from interference. And then civil tolerance is a direct result of the Catholic doctrine. As we have said, theologians may have erred in their appreciation of those circumstances ; but, whenever the question has arisen, Catholics have shown themselves the most sincere and consistent advocates of civil tolerance.
On the other hand, the deistic systems of tolerance, in the confusion of their multiplicity, have seldom been just or tolerant to Catholics. As to the principles of the French Revolution, we have seen that they have never prevented any sort of tyranny.
It will be worth our while to examine a little more closely this civil intolerance of Catholics, and to compare it with other kinds of intolerance.
One point is worthy of remark—namely, that the civil intolerance of Catholics does not follow, as an immediate and necessary consequence, from the political principles of Catholicism. Catholic policy is always mindful of vested rights, and is only inspired by motives of public good when it devises measures to protect those rights. When these measures of protection suggest what is called intolerance, the civil intolerance of Catholics, by its reasons, its rules, its very nature, is in marked contrast with other forms of intolerance, which have filled history with their misdeeds, especially with those which have so often attacked Christ and His Church. How clearly, then, is shown the falseness of the charge made against Christian society, that it became a persecutor when it was no longer persecuted, and that it drowned in blood that liberty which in the first centuries it had won so gloriously at the price of its own blood !
Catholic intolerance, if the expression is permissible, is in the first place essentially different from pagan or Mahomedan intolerance. Mommsen1 makes this judicious remark on pagan Rome, and the same observation applies (mutatis mutandis) to the Mahomedan Empire. The gods of Rome were virtually servants of the State. At any moment “ every subject of the Empire might be called upon to believe in these gods, and to make public manifestation of that belief ”; and whoever refused to do so “ committed an offence, not so much against the gods as against the State,” and was prosecuted for high treason. Under Christianity the crime of heresy has been compared to treason,1 but the two, as Mommsen remarks, have never been identified. The comparison was made in order to justify the severity of the penal sanctions, and not at all to suggest that unfaithfulness to God was, as such, an offence against any mere human authority.
1 Op. cit., t. 2, p. 308. M. Jordan also admits it (art. cit., t. 9, p. 37), but he attributes this measure to the desire to put an end to Christianity once for all. On the persecutions of Christians, see also Wagener, Bulletins de l’Académie de Belgique, 1893.
1 See, for example, the Constitution of Frederic II., and, later, St. Thomas and the Scholiasts.
The Turkish Empire is essentially a theocratic monarchy, being subject in principle to the direct personal control of the Sultan, who is the successor of Mahomed, and, consequently, the spiritual head of the Moslem world, as the Pope is the spiritual head of the Christian world. Catholicism, being a universal religion, has never acknowledged the supremacy of any particular form of government. It enters into an alliance with the State, but it refuses to identify its interests with those of any State whatever.
Moreover, Catholic intolerance, though it tends effectively to preserve religious unity when it exists, refuses to introduce it by force. Non-Catholic foreigners coming into an entirely Catholic State are bound to avoid conduct or language offensive to religion,2 but Catholic subjects alone are, within certain limits, subject to constraint.1 The offence which the Church punishes or permits to be punished is apostasy. Persons who are punished for heresy are those who have been subject to her legitimate authority, for St. Paul says : “ I have not to judge those who are without.”2 Even in dealing with her rebellious children, she has not started from an abstract and absolute principle of intolerance and severity ; she has been guided by experience. For a long time she tried simple persuasion, and confined herself to the use of spiritual penalties ; but by degrees the experience of facts taught her that she must seek in outward coercion the means of bringing back the delinquents and preserving the rest of the flock in safety. Correction and preservation are the only two motives of her intolerance, and they also lay down the limits of her power of repression, which does not extend to the shedding of blood.3
2 So in the secret clauses of the treaties concluded in 1604 for the Spanish Netherlands with England, and in 1609 with the United Provinces, foreign merchants are not forced to attend Catholic worship, but only to abstain from proselytism, to give no scandal to religion, and to avoid public transgression of ecclesiastical precepts. See L. Willaert, Négociations Politico-religieuses entre l’Angleterre et les Pays-Bas Catholiques (1598-1625); Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique for 1908, p. 102.
1 We shall give particulars in Section II.
2 1 Cor. v. 12.
3 See the proofs given in the intermediate chapter between the two sections of Part II., pp. 63 sqq.
Is it necessary to show how such intolerance as this contrasts with the intolerance with which Catholics have been and still are treated or threatened ?
Had the heretical, apostate, or infidel persecutors of all ages any justification for molesting Catholics in the profession of their religion ? What right, what religious authority over the Catholic martyrs, had Henry VIII., Elizabeth, the Calvinists of the Netherlands, the Princes of Germany, the Jacobin Terror or the Communist Terror ? Amongst all these we may seek in vain for subjects in rebellion against constituted and recognized authority. Still less do we find any intention of saving and preserving, or any principle moderating the violence of their persecutions. A capricious and tyrannical will, and a material power which they abused, guided them for the most part in their arbitrary and iniquitous proceedings.
The name of intolerance is unjustly applied to the coercive action which the Church allows. The intention of tyrannizing or forcing the conscience is absent. What does the Church do ? She protects her weaker children against a deadly contagion ; she seeks to bring back the lost ones—that is her zeal; she asks for obedience from her subjects—that is her authority. Intolerance is aggressive, and the Church acts on the defensive ; intolerance hates and oppresses, and the Church loves and desires to save. Excesses have been committed, and some men, acting in the Church’s name, have been carried away and gone beyond the limits she has prescribed ; but then the voice of her faithful children has been raised in compassion for the victims, and warned her to temper justice with mercy.1 When faith alone is at stake, violence can only momentarily be the act of Catholics ; normally and traditionally, they are the oppressed, and not the oppressors.
1 Notably the case with certain more peaceable Lutherans condemned in Flanders under Charles V.
One last remark as to the word “ tolerance.” The mere use of the word implies no generosity. The true merit of tolerance, that which makes it justly popular, is its self-restraint, its modesty in judging others, its respect for their sincerity, its moderation in the use of power. Whoever insolently forces upon others his own ideas, whether religious, political, or social, has no part in this merit, although it may please him to adorn his theory with the name of tolerance ; and there are many to-day who, while boasting of their tolerance, adopt an uncompromising attitude which bears no resemblance to that of the Catholic faith or of truth.
II. The Penal Repression of Heresy.
Summary : The repression struck heretical bands and single heretics differently.—St. Thomas’s reason for this second repression.—Argument from the promise made to the Church.—Criticism of these arguments.—The crime and the interior belief of the delinquent.—What was necessary to constitute the crime.—Just measure of punishment.—Simple abstention may be punished, but the social offence is less grave.—Difference between the unbeliever and the heretic.—Good faith much less probable formerly than now.—Why unbaptized persons were not punishable.—What is to be said of those who were brought up in heresy ?
The theoretical problem of the penal repression of heresy presents itself in an entirely different aspect —at least, outwardly—according as we are dealing with heretical factions or single heretics. The heretical faction forms a turbulent band of agitators, aiming at nothing less than the overthrow of established institutions. It plots against the Church and the hierarchy. The Church defends herself against them as the Russian Empire defends itself against Nihilists ; and at the time when the Catholic religion was the very foundation of society, the heretical faction was simply revolutionary. Therefore, the leaders and their followers alike were punishable under the law, though not all equally guilty, and it was not necessary to inquire into their religious convictions. That is plain common sense. Political conspirators often commit their crimes to obtain relief from some grievance, or to take revenge for some wrong, but it has never been considered the duty of judges to pay any attention to these motives.
We know, moreover, as an historical fact, that the factious combination of heretics necessitated the severe measures which were employed against them, and at a certain period the text of the law included all heretics under the same condemnation.
The question is, What would justify us in considering even an isolated case of heresy punishable as an offence against the community ?
The edicts of Frederic II. contain on this subject an argument which has been developed by St. Thomas. The Emperor uses the same expressions to explain the rigorous sanctions he enacts as the prince of theologians employs to justify the severity of the punishments. A man who refuses to believe in God offers Him an insult, which is a graver offence than the crime of treason against a mere earthly Sovereign. If the crime is greater, the same punishment—namely, the penalty of death—is not too great. This appears plain, simple, and unanswerable, and this argument also satisfies many contemporary writers.
It must be admitted, however, that this reason, without some explanation, no longer appears conclusive. The argument presupposes completely formal heresy, a deliberate refusal to believe in God. But are there many men capable of committing so absurd an offence ? A man may lie in declaring that he does not believe ; but if he speaks the truth, he founds his unbelief on his ignorance of the word of God. If, in other words, he refuses to believe in the Blessed Trinity, it is because he contends that God has not revealed this mystery. This contradiction of the Catholic dogma may be accompanied by invincible ignorance, and still leave the virtue of faith intact at the bottom of his heart; and heresy, reduced thus to purely material error, instead of being a serious crime, is innocent in the sight of God. Certainly, every time the loss of faith is formal an offence has been committed. But what offence ? Some imprudence or some sin unconnected with faith may have led to the withdrawal of the graces necessary to keep a man faithful. In short, the loss of the gratuitous gift of faith is such a mysterious matter that it offers very slender reason for penal measures.
Are the promises made at baptism, which other persons so confidently appeal to, any more conclusive ? It is said that the heretic, being bound by these promises, is guilty of treason in abandoning the Church and her teaching. It is useless to object that the promise, which the child was incapable of making, was the act of those who represented him at his baptism ; for you will be told that the Christian subsequently ratified that promise, and that in any case it binds him, as the accident of birth in a particular country imposes upon a man the duties of a citizen.
We confess that we have never been able to see the force of this argument, which seems not to bear examination. Even if it did not depend on me whether I was born here or there, my country certainly exists as a legitimate society, and my obligations towards it are so evident that they cannot be the subject of discussion. On the other hand, no promise can bind me to a Church, unless I recognize that Church as truly Divine. Consequently, in proportion as my faith is shaken, so also is the foundation of my duty to the Church. It is undoubtedly true that the heretic is wrong in denying or doubting the Church, but we cannot refuse him the benefit of this universal rule—that duty in the concrete exists only for the man who has knowledge of it.
The promises made at baptism bind the man who believes. They form an additional reason for his obligations towards God and a necessary religion— that is understood—but they cannot be used as an argument against a man who denies the truth of that religion. In our opinion, the simple absence or loss of faith cannot be cognizable by human justice. Faith is a gift of God ; its birth and its loss are impenetrable to the eye of man. To command me to believe when I do not believe is to command the impossible. Now, the preceptive or prohibitive force of the law is limited to acts which it is in a man’s power to do or to omit. We cannot neglect these elementary considerations, of which the highest authorities in the Church have reminded us.1
1 See the authorities quoted on pp. 53, 54. Leo XIII. speaks in the same sense in his Encyclical Immortale Dei.
We must, then, try to find better reasons ; and, first, let us consider the more general and very important question of the interior conviction, which is necessary to justify punishment. Are public orders or prohibitions binding only on condition that they have the inward assent of every private individual ? Can a public authority punish only such persons as share its opinions on the act forbidden or commanded ? The answer is clear. If we insist on such a condition, we should put public authority at the mercy of every man’s individual conscience or opinion, whether truly or falsely alleged. Human authority, which cannot enter into the mind and conscience of man, cannot command or forbid whatever it pleases, and for the same reason it is not bound to inquire into the opinions of private persons on the subject of orders which are socially just ; but it has full right to call on its subjects to regulate their external conduct in conformity with its legitimate commands,2 leaving their motives to God, “ who searcheth the reins and hearts.”
2 Questions of excusable or culpable ignorance may no doubt bring about conflicts between the public authority and the private conscience. The one is as liable to error as the other. Sometimes the only practicable solution will be voluntary exile or submission to punishment. But this accidental and very rare inconvenience would be infinitely less than the harm that would be caused if the public authority were compelled to consult every private person’s conscience. That would be anarchy raised to a system.
Now, what orders are socially just ? Those which are based on a truth sufficiently recognized or admitted, and which tend to the common good. The support of truth secures the objective foundation ; the approval of the general conscience gives an assurance that the law is not impracticable or oppressive ; the good of the community gives to legislative measures that justification which is necessary for their validity. Such being the case, all the constituent elements of a crime will be found in an act which is objectively bad,1 condemned as such, socially harmful, and voluntarily committed in spite of authoritative prohibition. We say objectively bad or reprehensible, because the social authority is not bound to submit to the subjective judgment of each individual; it is enough that the malice of the act should be generally recognized. Acts of violence, and even murder, may be committed from motives which make them meritorious acts in the opinion of the delinquent, but those opinions are of little importance. Divine grace and light, which are necessary for interior faith, are not at all required to show a man that he must not disobey lawful orders. When he has been warned that such an act or omission is illegal and punishable, he voluntarily assumes the responsibility of his act or omission, and has no right to complain if he is punished.
1 Bad, that is to say, either before the prohibition or because of it.
The gravity of the offence is in like manner estimated socially ; that is to say, according to the objective malice of the act, the public scandal, and the harm done to the community.
In other words, the punishment should not be greater than the malice of the abstract immorality ; and in the second place, it should not be out of proportion to the social harm caused by the crime. When an act has been made penal by law, whoever knowingly and deliberately offends against the law becomes liable to punishment, without reference to his own personal opinion of the illegal act.
We can easily apply this reasoning to the case of heresy. In the Catholic country the true religion is normally accepted by everyone, and protected by authority as a social good of the first importance. Therefore, in accordance with the general sentiment, any contradiction of the dogmas of that religion is forbidden, as being harmful to the community. It constitutes the crime of heresy, whatever the private opinions and intentions of the offender may be. We need only add that a little good-will would be enough to show to a private individual the rashness, to say the least, of an affirmation categorically opposed to the teaching of a Church so wise and enlightened as the Catholic Church, and, in the case we are considering, generally obeyed.
It remains, then, to make the punishment proportionate to the offence. It must be regulated according to the general scale of punishments, the gravity of the offence considered objectively,1 and the harm it is likely to cause ; and the argument of St. Thomas, which we had set aside as being of no use to help us to decide the guilt of each individual heretic, recovers its force in so far as it expresses the social judgment which Christendom passed on heresy in general. Thus, even the death penalty is explained. For the obstinate contradiction of the faith of the Church was considered socially as treason against the Majesty of God, without reference to the private opinions of the heretic, just as murder was looked upon as an atrocious violation of the sacredness of human life, and theft as an invasion of another person’s legal right of possession, without reference to the private opinions of the murderer and the thief. It is in accordance with these social judgments that the punishment is fixed, and the guilty person is made to understand the gravity of his offence.
1 To repeat. As soon as the act fulfils all the conditions required to make it a free act for which the doer is responsible, its gravity as an offence is estimated socially, and not individually ; that is to say, in consideration of the order violated, and not according to the subjective culpability of the offender. It is impossible to admit that a personal opinion may justify a person who deliberately disturbs the public peace. Imagine him even bound in conscience to propagate his opinions. Moral impossibility would excuse him from this positive duty.
An additional explanation is supplied by the fact that every heresy was certainly, or most probably, connected with some seditious heretical body. At that time these factions endangered the unity of Christendom, and finally succeeded in rending it asunder. Yet simple abstention could not have the gravity or the scandalous effects of a categorical denial. Equity itself demands less severity, and so we find that much more tolerance was shown to simple sceptics or freethinkers. “ The preachers, and even Bossuet himself,” says M. Jules Lemaître, “ when they are fighting against freethinkers, do it certainly with sorrow and indignation, but without a word to suggest an appeal to the law. They pity the unbelievers, they pray for them, and hope for their return to God ; but they do not persecute them, provided that they keep within bounds. . . . But heretics—that is another thing. Heretics do not keep quiet. Unbelievers do not choose between dogmas, but heretics do. They set up one religion against another. A heretic is one who openly and arrogantly breaks religious unity, which is an indispensable good ; a freethinker is one who does not break that unity, but quietly withdraws from it for the time, and that is all. That is why the old system, which was merciful enough to freethinkers, was much less so to Protestants and even to Jansenists.”1
1 Rapports de Bossuet et de Fénelon avec les Protestants. Second Conference.
Let us not forget, finally, that the plea of good faith, which we so freely admit nowadays, had formerly much less justification. In the midst of controversies on the very foundations of Christianity; while so many religions and beliefs are publicly professed; while objections are made on all sides, and the most shameless lies are circulated everywhere as to the doctrines and acts of the Church; while infidelity insolently boasts that it is supported by science, and that it is therefore sure to gain the day, and puts its secular philanthropy in opposition to religious charity, we cannot wonder that the faith of many is disturbed, and that they are led astray by a multitude of specious arguments.
Formerly, when Europe was more isolated, there was but one form of Christianity, holding uncontested sway, to which the sciences paid homage, and which was honoured by public and private benevolence. What possible excuse was there, then, for the innovator who advanced revolutionary propositions on the sacraments, or marriage, or the hierarchy ? All social life was against him, and his arguments were refuted, as the clever sophisms of modern sceptics come into collision with palpable facts and the conclusions of common sense only to be shattered. No judge would then be moved by a plea of good faith resting on such weak foundations, or feel any scruples in convicting of heresy.
We have already said that the Church had no power to extend her jurisdiction over those who did not belong to her by baptism. The reason is clear : since, according to the designs of God, faith cannot be created by force, the essence of the offence is wanting. The Church treated Christians as the State treats its civil subjects, while with regard to non-Christians her right was limited to defending herself against their attacks ; and it must always be remembered that the wicked acts and words of Christians have a much more pernicious influence than any acts of those who are strangers to the Church. It is thus easy to explain why the Church treated infidels and Jews very differently from baptized heretics.
One doubt may arise here. As far as those heretics are concerned who personally abandon the faith, the distinction between them and infidels is clear ; but what is to be said of those who have been brought up in schism and heresy, and therefore have never felt that they belonged to the Church ? Are they her subjects because they have been baptized, or are they strangers because since the dawn of reason they have never been in communion with the Church ? We have already1 expressed our opinion that though, as subjects of the Church, they are entitled to the advantage of certain rights and favours and to a special solicitude, they are, nevertheless, by reason of the error of their fathers, incapable of contumacy to the Church, and therefore cannot properly be punished or molested for their religious opinions ; and we have extended this rule to children whose parents have long been separated from the Church.
1 Pp. 56, 57.
The conclusion we draw is that the penal laws against heretics do not prove an intolerance which, misunderstanding the gratuitous character of the gifts of God and the voluntary character of the act of faith, would attempt to obtain conversions by force.
III. Consistency and Progress in the Theory of Tolerance.
Summary : Statements of M. Vacandard and Baron von Hertling.—The Church has not been dominated by two opposite traditions.—The principles on the repression and toleration of religious error have remained unchanged.—But the progress of criminal science, political science, and theological science, and the teaching of experience, suggest moderation in the application of those principles, according to existing circumstances.
“ The theory of Catholic writers,” says M. Vacandard,1 “ starts from the principle of absolute tolerance, and terminates in the penalty of death by fire.” And at the beginning of this century Baron von Hertling shared the same opinion, when he declared in the Reichstag, “ We are for the first links in the chain of tradition, not for the second.”
1 L’Inquisition, p. 250.
Is it a fact that two opposite theories on the subject of tolerance have been accepted in succession by Catholic writers, and that the chain of tradition is really composed of dissimilar and incongruous links ?
Taken literally, these assertions are formally contradicted by facts. The improper use of language alone can explain or excuse them.
The principle of absolute tolerance (M. Vacandard is evidently speaking of civil tolerance) has consistently refused to the civil authority the right of securing unity in religious truth by civil sanctions. Was this principle ever accepted in the Church ? In the age of the persecutions, and even in the time of the Apostles, heresy met with the sternest repro-bation from ecclesiastical authority, and this was in a certain sense a denial of tolerance. Certainly, the Church, in launching her spiritual thunderbolts, abstained from coercive measures, which were not then within her power ; and her writers held that the same gentle means should be used to bring men back to the faith as to obtain first conversions, but no authorized declaration absolutely condemns all use of force in the service of religion.
On the contrary, as soon as the question arose in practice, Catholic writers admitted that the violence of heretics should be punished by retaliation, and that the propagation of their errors should be effectively stopped. St. John Chrysostom formally proclaimed the lawfulness of such constraint as was necessary to protect the true faith ; and St. Augustine, an advocate at first of entire liberty, and afterwards of moderate repression, had never questioned the justice, but only the expediency, of such repression.
It cannot be denied that experience and altered circumstances have caused a change in the methods and the practical attitude of the Church, but this change does not extend to the theory. Two principles are deduced from the writings of the Fathers and the Acts of ecclesiastical authority : the penal repression of heresy is in itself lawful ; the Church does not shed blood. These two principles remained in force during the following centuries, and neither has been abandoned. In the thirteenth century a phase of civil legislation suggested a new question, Can the State suppress heresy by capital punishment ? The reply of authors, appro-priate to the circumstances of the time, was in the affirmative ; and, without wishing for a return to such severity, we can only say, having regard to the circumstances and the penal legislation of the period, that such an answer was inevitable.
Some theologians of the sixteenth or a century later claimed also for the Church the right to strike with the sword ; and they, as M. Vacandard would say, finished with the penalty of death by fire. But their opinion is not enough to constitute a tradition, any more than the theologians who opposed the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, or the advocates of the direct temporal power of the Pope, could trace their opinions back to the Apostles or to Jesus Christ. In our humble opinion, those authors were wrong. We read the true tradition in the canonical collections, where we find attributed to the Church the right of a medicinal and preservative constraint by means of reparable penalties, and, as a last resource, the right of excommunication.
The Church has not contradicted herself in her principles ; she has not been dominated by two contrary traditions in succession ; her doctrine on the subject of tolerance has not essentially changed, but under the guidance of God, who gives her in successive centuries new light to know herself better, her doctrine has developed and taken shape in a clearer and more complete formula of expression.
The Church is not merely conservative: she is also progressive.
Since the Middle Ages the right to punish has been fully discussed, and the distinction between the two powers and their respective jurisdiction has been more clearly laid down. We understand better now the work of grace and its essential necessity for the act of faith, as well as the frequent disappointments and the grave mischief resulting from ill-timed severity ; and we are therefore better able to define the exact purpose of repression, its extreme limits, and the conditions of its expediency. The new aspect of religious controversy, which is gradually narrowing itself to a conflict between religion and complete unbelief ; the small measure of success that new heresies can ever hope for ; the general improvement of manners, and the desire and the need of souls to be won by kindness, are not lost sight of by the ministers of the Church or by her writers ; and if they were called upon to formulate practical rules for the use of a believing people, freely and without fear or respect of persons, they would be able to secure a form of protection of truth in harmony with public sentiment and the true progress of civilization.1
1 The conduct of German Catholics is, from this point of view, extremely significant. On November 23, 1900, the German Centre presented a Bill to provide for liberty of the practice of religion throughout the Empire. It was known as Toleranzantrag, and gave rise to lively discussion in the Press. The respective attitudes of Catholics, Protestants, and Erastian Liberals, give one more proof that the truest friends of reasonable liberty are to be found within the Catholic Church. See Laurentius, S.J., Freiheit der Religionsübung im deutschen Reiche (Stimmen aus Maria- Laach, 1905, t. 68, pp. 21 sqq.).
IV. The Scientific or the Religious Ideal. Scientific and Religious Liberty : Their
Alleged Antagonism.
Summary : Is the scientific ideal opposed to the religious ? —Error of M. Bouché-Leclercq.—Exact notion of scientific theories : their object and their ambition.— The complete work of the scientist. — Though not disregarded by religion, scientific theories can neither confirm nor contradict it.—Impossibility of conflict between religion and natural sciences.—Objection founded on the alleged conflict with history and philosophy. — Incomplete answer. — Science is not the supreme good.—Sacrifices often asked of it.—Insignificance of those which religion asks of it accidentally.—Abundant compensation. — Parallel functions of science and religion. — The habit of faith not inconsistent with the scientific spirit.—Humanity needs both science and religion.—The problem of their reconciliation difficult, but important.
The copious literature of Tolerance has been recently enriched by a book written in France by a professor of the Sorbonne, entitled L’Intolérance Religieuse et la Politique. We have already quoted it. Its author, M. Bouché-Leclercq, is one of the survivors of rationalistic Liberalism. Though he repudiates religion, he does not approve of the open war between the Church and the State ; and he even proposes a modus vivendi, pressing rather heavily, it is true, on Catholics. However, he augurs very ill for the future of the faith and positive religions. No reconciliation between science and revelation appears to him possible, for he declares that there is “ an essential contradiction between the scientific ideal, which is the unremitting pursuit of truth through a succession of temporary or provisional theories, and the ideal of positive religions, which is the preservation of truth already acquired, and henceforth unassailable.”1
1 Op. cit., p. 354. 2 Quoted above, p. 232.
If the conflict between science and positive religions were as implacable as he declares, the modern world, which is entirely on the side of science, and the State which represents it, instead of begging concessions of tolerance from religion, would set to work to persecute it; or at most they would grant a temporary and, so to speak, compassionate tolerance to the Church and to Catholics, as to a set of old-fashioned persons, clinging to a transitory expression of religious sentiment: their good-nature would go no farther.
Happily this is not the case—the essentiality of the contradiction is imaginary ; so, indeed, is the contradiction itself, as we shall endeavour to prove. M. Bouché-Leclercq is mistaken, both as to religion and as to science.
What does he mean by his provisional theories ? Is he using unsuitable and inexact language ? Does he wish, in the interests of science, to associate himself with M. Payot2 in proclaiming the necessity of the relativist principle ? He cannot do it without falling into that absolutism of statement which he so unreasonably condemns. Relativism is no more a postulate of science than stagnation is a postulate of religion.
Does M. Bouché-Leclercq speak of the provisional theories of the natural sciences in the proper sense of the word ? The ideal of these sciences does not by any means consist in the pursuit of a truth which is continually escaping from our grasp ; and, on the other hand, the religious ideal is not the mere preservation of acquired truths. The acquired truth of religion is composed of a limited number of dogmas, derived from Divine revelation; but their clear understanding has sometimes taken centuries of work and preparation. Similarly, every science has its acquired truths1 and its provisional theories. But these do not imply any attitude with regard to truth, different from the attitude of revealed religion, for the good and sufficient reason that, being entirely directed to the exact representation of external phenomena, they do not aim at the acquisition of absolute truth.
1 Such are the results derived from experiments ; and such, also, is a part, very difficult to define, of physical theories, of which M. Duhem says : “ By a continuous tradition, every theory of physical science transmits to that which follows it that part of natural classification which it has been able to construct ” (La Théorie Physique, son Objet et sa Structure, p. 48. See also Physique de Croyant, p. 41).
Poincaré similarly says : “ At first sight it seems as if theories lasted only for a day ; but there is something in them which survives. If one of them has enabled us to discover a real relation between two things, that relation is finally acquired, and we shall find it again in a new form in the later theories which follow to take the place of the former ” (La Valeur de la Science; Paris, 1905).
Formerly, no doubt, and even fifty years ago, scientists put forward their theories as explanations, some certain and others conjectural, of the real truths concealed beneath the phenomena whose laws they recorded. Acoustics asserted and demonstrated the undulations which produce sound ; with reference to the propagation of light, various hypotheses were made, the most important of which were the emission or corpuscular theory and the undulatory theory. According to the latter, all bodies were supposed to be filled by an extremely subtle elastic medium called ether, through which waves of light were constantly throbbing ; but since then modern scientists, tired of fruitless strife and defeat, have ceased to look to their methods of observation for what those methods cannot teach them. Their theories are constructed, not to explain phenomena, but to represent and classify and generalize them, and to foresee the conditions of their recurrence, and thus to group them into rational systems, by which much mental labour is saved and the investigators are put on the track of new discoveries. They do not go deep enough to discover real causes, but in their places put symbols between which the same relations exist as would exist between the realities which are represented by those symbols in their statements and calculations.
For example, the theory of luminous vibrations does not assert any real motion, but it provides an excellent basis to express in figures the experimental laws of light. Its value consists in the precision with which it represents a great number of laws. It establishes between luminous phenomena a logical connection which gives it its beauty, and it exhibits its fecundity in the various deductions which are drawn from it. Though superior to other theories less simple, less complete, or less exact, it does not profess to exclude them as false, so long as they remain in sufficient correlation with the phenomena of which they are the signs and symbols ; for the vibratory theory, like the electro-magnetic theory, which tends to replace it, not pretending to tell us anything of the real causes of the luminous phenomena, does not present itself as objectively true or objectively false. “ The object of Fresnel was not to know whether there is such a medium as ether, whether it is formed of atoms or not, or whether these atoms move in this or that direction: it was to foresee the optical phenomena.”1 This conception of scientific theories attracts scientific men of the sceptical school like H. Poincaré,2 and of the Christian school like M. Duhem.3 The scientific ideal ceases, then, to be the pursuit of ontological truth, and becomes the reduction of all partial theories to unity ; and these succeed one another provisionally, because they are symbolical, and they must necessarily be continually modified and completed to fit in with new discoveries.
1 H. Poincaré, La Science et l’Hypothèse, pp. 189, 190. Before this he had said : “ We are not concerned whether ether really exists ; that is the business of metaphysicians ” (Leçons sur les Théories Mathématiques de la Lumière, Preface ; Paris, 1889).
2 See Sur la Valeur Objective des Théories Physiques (Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, 1902, p. 263). “ The scientific fact,” says Poincaré, “ is nothing but the bare fact translated into appropriate language.” And again : “ Science is principally a classification, a way of connecting facts ... a system of relations ” (La Valeur de la Science, pp. 231, 265, 266).
3 See the work, La Théorie Physique, son Objet et sa Structure ; and the pamphlet, Physique de Croyant, written in answer to the article of M. Rey, quoted below, p. 288.
With these remarks, we may take leave of M. Bouché-Leclercq. His assertion holds good only as long as he4 clings to an antiquated scientific ideal, now almost abandoned. But modern conceptions furnish us with new material, which may be utilized to put an end to the old quarrel between science and religion.
4 In company with M. Le Dantec, who, with thorough Breton tenacity, seeks to know from biology what life is, and so puts forward his Biologie destructive in opposition to religion. See his Conference, Biologie Constructive et Biologie Destructive, given at the jubilee of the University of Brussels (Revue de l’Université de Bruxelles, 1909-10, pp. 308-318). “ When a scientific theory professes to tell us what heat is, or what electricity is, or what life is, it is condemned beforehand ” (Poincaré, La Valeur de la Science, p. 267).
Science is one thing, the scientist another. In practice the latter oversteps the limits of the former ; for who is there who does not yield to what M. Rey1 calls the common temptation to do a little metaphysics ? And so we may say that the scientist proceeds by three stages, which we may compare to the three stories of a building. In the first we have the exact observation of facts and experimental laws—facts and laws which have their phenomenal reality, and communicate their objective value to the statements in which they are expressed ; in the second, we come to the rational classification of these facts and laws— the theoretical interpretation. Without expressing any opinion on the real facts, this interpretation supplies a logical, convenient, and suggestive representation by symbols. This is the work which properly belongs to science, and secures all its benefits. Lastly, these same theories, and sometimes also extra-scientific prejudices, lead scientists to set up a second series of hypotheses concerning the reality underlying the phenomena, so much the more clearly cherished because they seem as if arising spontaneously from the representative theories founded on experience. The scientist will thus become an atomist or a dynamist in cosmology ; a materialist or a determinist in natural history ; a transformist in biology. But we must remark that not one of these hypotheses is strictly contained in the physical theories or their manifold applications. They are formulated only by the aid of metaphysical principles or postulates, and the philosophic scepticism of many scientists leads them to neglect the prudent counsels of this other branch of human knowledge. They hope to deduce everything from experience, but unconsciously they overstep its teaching, and for want of philosophic discernment they proceed by guesswork to fill up the gap, which is sometimes very wide, between the theories and their hypothetical conclusions on man and the universe.
1 La Philosophie Scientifique de M. Duhem (Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, 1904, p. 699).
Take, for example, the naturalist, and watch him at his work. He will apply himself in the first place to the careful consideration of actual organisms and reproductions. Comparative studies of living beings will lead him to a theoretical systematization, in which all the species observed by him will occupy their logical place, in which compartments will be reserved even for intermediaries not yet discovered, but which the series of beings seems to demand, as the calculations of Leverrier postulated a new planet. That is strictly scientific work—the only work indispensable to progress in scientific discovery. The naturalist, however, following his natural inclination to announce as an established fact what is really only a hypothesis, will easily discover ontological relations between species which seem logically to be connected, and will proclaim that one is derived from the other. He will declare himself a transformist, but he will make this declaration, not as a scientist, but in the name of a parasitic philosophy which he has grafted on his science.1
1 It is much less as a scientist that M. Le Dantec declares that he “ abandons the language of humanity in the strictest sense ” and reduces man, soul included, to a mere piece of automatic machinery. He boasts of his destructive biology, which, as he says, does not teach him to live well, but only to live without the fear of death (Biologie destructive, Biologie constructive, Conference quoted above). There is neither science nor philosophy here. The two preceding speakers, Poincaré and M. Lanson, had used much more reserved and more scientific language.
These preliminary explanations suggest a very important question : At what stage are those contacts produced which are so incorrectly called the conflicts between science and religion ?
On the first story of our scientific building peace and good understanding prevail. Nothing appears possible beyond a little friction, a slight temporary and accidental irritation. In fact, no philosophical or religious doctrine could for long deny or contradict observations founded on palpable evidence. Poincaré wittily observes that Galileo and the Grand Inquisitor were not at issue on a question of fact;2 but the same scientist is wrong in saying that a man, when he puts on his working clothes and enters his laboratory, must leave his faith behind him.3 It will be a delicate task to discover the points of intersection between observation and the scientific theory which accompanies it, for the proposition which formulates a scientific fact or law “ is generally a mixture of experimental discovery, possessing objective importance, and of theoretical explanation, simply symbolical, without any objective significance.”1 M. Duhem adds that if a natural philosopher desires to speak of an optical phenomenon, he will speak of the vibrations of ether ; in other words, he will express the phenomenon in the language of his favourite theory.
2 La Valeur de la Science, p. 231.
3 Le Libre Examen en Matière Scientifique, Conference at the Jubilee of the University of Brussels (Revue de l’Université de Bruxelles, 1909-10, pp. 285-295). The reference is specially to p. 288.
1 Duhem, Physique de Croyant, p. 27. 2 Ibid., p. 19.
On the second story — that is, in the stage of theories—science and faith cannot come into conflict, because the scientific theory affirms nothing concerning objective reality. “ By its own nature and essence every principle of theoretical physics is useless in metaphysical or theological discussions.”2 And in this sense we may assent to the statement of M. Lanson : “ If there is not a German science, or a French science, or a Belgian science, but one science common to all nations, still less is there a science of a party, a monarchist or Republican science, a Catholic or Socialist science.”3
3 L’Esprit Scientifique et la Méthode de l’Histoire littéraire. Conference at the Jubilee of the University of Brussels (Revue de l’Université de Bruxelles, 1909-10, pp. 296-307 ; see p. 306).
Does this mean that the philosopher or the theologian can despise scientific theories ? Poincaré would perhaps condemn the pretensions of metaphysical research, for, according to him nothing can enable us to know the nature of things.4 As for ourselves, who give its due place to philo-sophy, we believe also in a harmonious correspondence of the classifying genius with the Spirit which has created that genius and all other things. We admit instinctively and, as it were, necessarily between the reality of things and their ideal classification certain analogies, closer and more probable according as the classification is more comprehensive and perfect. The plan which is formed as the result of scientific observations tends to reproduce the original plan on which all things were created. “ Every branch of learning appears to me a praiseworthy effort directed towards knowledge of the order which presides over a determinate category of phenomena.”1 Thus the scientific theory creates a prejudice favourable or unfavourable to a philosophical or religious doctrine, but nothing more. We remember that in these scientific theories the scientist treads ground on which he is independent, in which he need not hope for or fear any clashing with religion.
4 La Valeur de la Science, p. 266.
1 A. de Lapparent, La Recherche Scientifique, et la Foi. Letter to the Revue Pratique d’Apologétique, t. 2, p. 267.
The highest story only is the stage on which science and religion are brought into contact and relation, and sometimes into conflict.
This is enough to reassure mere unscientific mortals. This upper story, as we have seen, is not one of discoveries or inventions ; the scientist has not constructed it as a scientist. Even if the atmosphere there is troubled, and a wind of discord blows through, there is no reason to tremble for that earthly happiness or progress about which human nature shows such eagerness and anxiety. It is never with science properly so called that religion can find itself in conflict, but with something that we may call meta-science. The pretended conflicts of science and religion have never existed, except between religion and a certain philosophy that calls itself scientific.
This is enough to show that impiety has only misused the popularity of science in order to attack the faith or to make unlimited tolerance an essential condition of progress. Neither the act of faith nor submission to doctrinal authority need disturb the scientist in his truly scientific work.
There remains, it is true, his metaphysical work. For those branches of natural science which are devoted to the exploration of the material world with such valuable results, this is negligible, or of only secondary importance. It engages the attention principally of conceited inquirers, who hope to bring out of the facts of science either speculative answers on the nature and origin of life, ideas, and morals, or practical rules for the direction of our individual and social energy, the formulae of our duties, the key to our happiness.1 Certainly, in all departments of knowledge strictly scientific inquiries and objective perceptions remain independent of metaphysical or religious doctrines. This remark applies also to psychology, and even to mysticism, in so far as they are experimental.2 Nevertheless, hitherto the interest of observations of the psychical order has been identified with that of spiritualist or determinist teachings, and of supernatural or naturalistic explanations which inquirers rightly or wrongly professed to deduce from them. Few biologists or psychologists, and perhaps no sociologist, have confined themselves within the special limits of science.
1 To this class belong those attempts to form a so-called “ scientific ” code of morality, which professes to do without the help even of philosophy. But these are no longer in fashion, and at present M. Durkheim is almost the only person to plead the cause of a moral code founded exclusively on science.
2 “ The object of experimental psychology,” Father Maréchal forcibly remarks, “ is to deduce the laws of the relations of mental phenomena, but not to discover the ontological causes of the phenomena themselves ” (Le Sentiment de Présence, chez les Profanes et les Mystiques). Speaking of mystical phenomena, the Abbé Pacheu adds : “ The observation and description of facts, if men are well informed, cannot but be the same for all ” (L’Expérience Mystique et l’Activité Sub-consciente, p. 301). M. Delacroix, the secular writer who has the reputation of being the best informed on these sacred matters, writes to the author : “ As you say, it is not the part of psychology either to acknowledge or to deny the supernatural ” (ibid., p. 305).
There remain also history and historical criticism, in reference to which Renan says : “ Religions present themselves as facts, and must be discussed as facts.”1 How can we gainsay this ? The speculative, moral, or social conclusions of certain writers who have a great reputation as philosophers or scientists, and also their historical conclusions, frequently come into contact with religious dogmas or assertions which necessarily depend on those dogmas, or at least with theories, beliefs, and opinions which are accredited and in favour in the Church, and these contacts are by no means always friendly.
1 Discourse in answer to Pasteur’s discourse on admission to the French Academy. M. Bouché-Leclercq similarly says : “ However high they soar, revealed religions take their standing-ground on the earth, and they are bound to show the time and place at which the revelation they assert was made. And it is on this point that they have to justify themselves before historical criticism.”
Full liberty of expression and diffusion is claimed for every formal declaration put forth in the name of science, and the intolerance of the Church refuses it to science. Every scientist is called upon to give up preconceived ideas. The Catholic has his freedom of thought limited by his faith. Here is intolerance, here is slavery, which furnish the modern world with weapons against all authoritative religion.
Is it sufficient, in order to dispose of the first objection, to answer that a true dogma cannot contradict a truth of reason, and that therefore the religious barrier forbids nothing to scientists but error ? There is a double reply at once. Man can only make progress by groping his way. He fails before he succeeds ; he passes through error to arrive at the truth ; he must be allowed freedom to make unsuccessful attempts, or even wrongly to contradict articles of the Creeds. And, on the other hand, religious authority does not impose dogmas alone. It blocks the way by propositions not yet defined, but which it considers important to its cause ; it makes us subject not only to an infallible Pope, but also to Commissions and Congregations which are liable to error ; and in this connection men will triumphantly point to a small number of censures passed upon propositions which are nowadays universally accepted.
The page which bears the names of Catholic men of science is very glorious to the Church, and very useful for our argument ; but it is going a little too far to profess that it supplies a complete refutation of the objection. Certainly, we thoroughly appreciate the warning which Poincaré gave to an assembly of freethinkers : “ Do not imagine that I wish to deny science to men of faith, and especially to Catholics. God forbid ! I should not be such a fool as to deprive humanity of the services of a Pasteur.” And we are glad to hear him admit that “ believers have as much of the critical spirit as any other men.” “ I know many,” he added, “ and Pasteur is only the most illustrious among them.”1
1 Conference quoted, p. 288.
Again, it may be asked whether these Christians were not scientists in spite of their religion ; whether they have not had to overcome difficulties and obstacles in order to gain their reputation ; whether they do not owe their distinction to the emancipating influence of their environment. Perhaps, also, they are famous in those branches of science which have nothing to do—at least, at the present day—with religious questions, such as pure mathematics and astronomy. In such matters there would be no possibility of conflict with religion.
For this reason these answers appear to us incomplete, though we do not say that they are entirely devoid of truth. Some concession seems to be required, and our mind cannot be satisfied except by rising to a plane higher than that in which the difficulty lies.
It may be that in some departments of science in which the interests of religion are directly involved religion requires from scientists precautions which may entail sacrifices. It may call upon them to move slowly and carefully, and not to throw things into complete disorder ; and thus it to some extent hampers their investigations, and puts some restriction on their movements. Will it never go farther than is required ? Will the judgment of those who speak in the name of religion be so sound, so comprehensive, and at the same time so promptly given, as to place no unnecessary restriction on liberty ? Will their intention even be always so pure and honest as to take no counsel but from the light of reason ? We cannot expect such perfection of judgment and intention in every case without looking for a miracle which is nowhere promised, and forgetting the traditional symbol of the Church—a boat tossed on the waves of a stormy sea. The qualified representatives of the Church, and still more its self-constituted defenders, are but men. Their knowledge may be small, their prudence may be outwitted, even their virtue may fail. Their interference will sometimes be awkward, inopportune, or exaggerated. Excessive zeal, after all, should surprise us less and distress us less than the moral scandals from the pain of which God has not spared His Church.
This we grant freely and sincerely, but in making this admission we feel that we are the more justified in protesting against the absurd pretension implied in the complaint against religion and the Church. Science and all its branches and all its advances are represented as blessings so precious that they are worth purchasing at the price of any loss or sacrifice, while religion is a useless thing that is not deserving of the least attention. Unless they maintain some such proposition, our readers will admit that the famous objection as to the conflict between religion and science cannot be sustained, and that it leaves untouched our principles and our conclusions on the subject of tolerance and religion.
To explain. On a concrete question, let us reason without passion or prejudice—in other words, let us adopt what is called a scientific attitude.
If Science impersonate could appear before us, Religion and Science might well join hands, for what would religion have to fear ? Science, in the full light and in peaceful possession of truth, would not sin by impatience, or be in too great a hurry to reveal her secrets; but instead of a personification, we have only the disciples of Science, the best of whom call themselves eternal beginners, always labouring at the construction of a monument which is never completed, and in which every successive course of stones is only laid finally after many fresh beginnings.
If scientists themselves (all dogma set aside) had that interior liberty of which Poincaré makes a duty ; if they possessed those qualities which M. Lanson eloquently describes—“ disinterested desire for information, sincere probity, laborious patience, submission to facts ; if they were not too ready to believe either in themselves or in others ; and if they had a continual desire for criticism, control, and verification,”1 we should be almost ready to vote with the famous philosopher for the suppression of all barriers. Not a single barrier is raised without cost, and all are irksome. Men of the character we have just described would give to religion and to society itself guarantees of perfect security. But, unfortunately, Poincaré dare not promise us or even expect complete freedom from prejudice among scientists. He recognizes the frauds which have given Haeckel such an unfortunate notoriety ;1 while Madame Curie has shown us that scientists, in their pursuit of truth, do not necessarily forget all other desires; and the orator who followed Poincaré at Brussels condescended to go into details : “ Scientists and ourselves have in common all the same human weakness, the same short sight, the wavering attention, the blind passions, the same inability to put ourselves in another person’s place, the perpetual risk of deceiving ourselves and of being deceived.”2
1 Lanson, Conference quoted, p. 299.
1 Conference quoted, p. 290. 2 Ibid., p. 298.
There is no close corporation of scientists : the first comer is permitted to usurp the title ; and these are the men who claim entire freedom to write or say anything they please.
It must be admitted that entire freedom is no longer insisted upon with the same distinctness, and when to the question whether there are doctrines which are socially dangerous, and of which society can get rid as it gets rid of criminals, Poincaré replies, “ No lie can be ultimately advantageous,”3 he practically assumes without any justification that all doctrines are so many truths.
3 Ibid., p. 290.
We also think that no lie can be ultimately advantageous, and precisely for that reason we would not refuse to the civil power the right to protect itself against the propagation of falsehood and error.
Is not the remark which M. Lanson makes as a literary critic equally applicable in other matters ? He says : “ We have been too much inclined to believe that it was sufficient to have ideas, and have not fully realized that literature, like everything else, requires ideas that have been proved to be true.”1
1 L’Esprit Scientifique et la Méthode d’Histoire Littéraire, p. 304.
But if this is the fact, and if it is really impossible to identify scientists with science and ideas with truth, then all the liberty which Poincaré claims for science and all the good that he says of harmless truth unfortunately does not apply, even from the scientific point of view, to those who call themselves scientists or to what they call their ideas.
It is perfectly natural and intelligible that a Government anxious for the public welfare should be disturbed by the social repercussions of so many fanciful theories, that are labelled “ scientific ” just as easily as London merchants used to label their English goods “ made in Germany,” because German goods were in fashion. And how much more is the prudent and even protective action of the Church justified ! Charged with the spiritual interests of a multitude easily scandalized and easily led away, is she wrong in taking care that scientific novelties shall not be introduced without any control or examination ? Is she wrong in refusing to risk the higher life of souls for an advantage which is always less important, and sometimes problematical ? The personal dignity of every man forbids that dangerous experiments shall be made even on the vilest bodies in the interests of medicine or surgery. Is it not the part of a wise democracy to forbid the dangerous experiments in social or educational matters which modern sociologists or educators would like to try, as it were in anima vili, on the people or their children ?
This argument is not weakened by the optimistic view which prophesies a final victory for truth, for, while we are waiting for that victory to be won, error will have disturbed many souls, driven many more to utter ruin, and produced irreparable disasters.
But do not the restrictions of liberty tend to embarrass and retard the progress of science ? Granted ; but even then they are not necessarily condemned, unless we regard the least important scientific discovery as the supreme good of humanity.
However highly we may value science, we cannot consider it the highest good. All men are agreed on this point, even the scientist who steals time from his scientific studies to devote himself first to the interests of his home and the duty he owes to his family. No State will risk the issue of a war or even of a single battle for the sake of the interests of science, and the public prosecutor who suspects a scientist of having committed a crime will not hesitate to drag him from his study in order to put him in gaol. The French Revolution sent Lavoisier to the scaffold, and masonic fanaticism is incapable of respecting a monastic library.
We see, then, that the most enthusiastic admirers of science rate it as less important than family life, or national defence, or the suppression of crime, or even the gratification of political or antireligious passion—all things of the earth, earthly. Is faith only, which is heavenly, to be unable to ask the least sacrifice from science ? To make it a grievance against religion that it is opposed to the teaching of certain scientists is to prejudge it as false, and that is not scientific. It is to proclaim it useless, and that is to contradict the teaching of experience and the testimony of the human heart.
But we must not exaggerate the mischief. We must remember that it is confined to certain branches of science, whose votaries are divided by internal quarrels, and none of their conjectural discoveries have ever been considered indispensable to the happiness of the human race.
Let there be no mistake. Far be it from us to underrate the nobility of every intellectual effort, or the value of the services that may be rendered to the human race by historical discussion or philosophical speculation. Critical science has its rights. But in opposition to what has been called “hypo-criticism,” which is ridiculous if not inactive, there is an arrogant hyper-criticism, the object of which is not so much to examine and record facts as to interpret them in its own fashion and obtain notoriety. As Fustel de Coulanges justly remarks, it substitutes for the real aspect of the past its own personal and modern point of view.1 So others than ourselves have spoken of history as a “ mere conjectural science ”;2 and others, again, looking at the inordinate but disappointed pretensions of biological and philosophical sciences, have summed them up in one word—“bankruptcy.”
1 Questions Historiques, p. 408.
2 Lanson, Conference cited, p. 300.
It is not even true that every science is hampered by ecclesiastical restrictions, for the action of the Church does not affect all scientists. How much scientific labour and study is carried on outside the Church and without any regard for its decrees !1 It follows from this that if there have been individual restrictions laid upon such and such students, no science has lacked air and liberty. In calmer and perhaps happier times the Church allowed a wide liberty of speculation to its members ; the Congregation of the Index and the regular condemnations of suspected propositions date from the sixteenth century only. When the revolutionary proceedings of the Reformation compelled the Church to take vigorous measures for the protection of the true faith, science found in the secessions of those troublous times that latitude of study and research which it might have obtained at less cost from legitimate authority. Thus God knows how to bring good out of evil. Heresies, like all revolutions, may be an occasion of progress. It is not impossible that, in spite of their erratic course, they may discover new ways useful to human progress outside the beaten tracks.
1 We do not say “ in complete independence,” for that would imply something that we do not believe—namely, that in the unbelieving scientific world there are no lay dogmas, no fashionable prejudices, no victims of human respect.
How slight, then, is the scientific sacrifice which religion incidentally asks of science, and what immense benefits it confers upon science in return !
It is hardly correct to speak of sacrifice, and we should more properly rejoice over the services which religion and science mutually render to each other. The conflicts of religion and science are in reality the conflicts of the men who represent them, or, at least, profess to represent them. They arise in part from a solicitude which no one can blame, and which calls upon the worker to exercise that reserve, that modesty, and that circumspection, which are so appropriate in delicate and complicated matters, in which over-confident assurance is often followed by disappointment; they arise also from an excessive zeal, which fancies that it has discovered a fact opposed to some dogma, or a dogma opposed to some scientific assertion. There is no conflict between religion and science ; the only conflict is between two specimens of human infirmity and weakness. Infirmity and weakness are visible in everything with which man has to do, in institutions the most necessary to humanity, and therefore we may well say that no institution is without its drawbacks. But these disputes have their advantages. They make men more precise in their proofs, more guarded in their language, and they lead to a more complete and more lasting agreement than would have been possible if there had been no discussion. If they make men go more slowly afterwards, there is no harm in that; much more mischief is caused by over-haste than by caution.
A narrow and suspicious faith may produce a diffidence that paralyzes all a man’s faculties, and dogma, especially dogma imperfectly understood, may embarrass the Catholic worker. But this is not its natural influence. The true believer draws from the depth of his convictions all the confidence necessary for the most impartial research. No final result can make him uneasy, for none can shake a religion which might, perhaps, be better understood, but which can never be convicted of falsehood. In the duties which are imposed upon him by his faith he finds energy for honest and scientific labour, and courage to put aside all personal spite and animosity. The higher principles by which his faith is guided lead him willingly to undertake labour of which other men will reap the fruits ; they moderate that feverish hurry after success which is so fatal to true science. The brain of the scientist cannot, like an observatory, be isolated from all disturbing influences. The scientist is human, and his first enemies are his own fancies and passions. Religion helps him to overcome them. Let us imitate M. Lanson1 in his distrust of an excessive liberty which “ makes science the slave of individual caprice.” If liberty is necessary, so also is discipline; and the best is that of an enlightened religion. If dogma is a weight, it weighs like a ship’s ballast, which it is very dangerous to throw overboard.
1 Conf. cited, p. 306.
Let us take note of the eloquent testimony of the famous geologist, M. de Lapparent : “ I am glad to say that not only has my faith as a Catholic never been a hindrance to me in my scientific researches, but I have been strengthened by it both intellectually and morally, and that in the special sphere in which I have been employed I have received from it the most powerful encouragement to fulfil my duty as a man of science.”2
2 La Recherche Scientifique et la Foi, letter to the Revue Pratique d’Apologétique, 1906, t. 2, p. 266.
While religion thus gives the scientist courage to persevere in his work, it receives in its turn undeniable benefits from science. We speak of that impartial science of which Poincaré paints such an attractive picture.
More modest, because he knows more, the true scientist, in whatever rank he may be found,1 uses his irrefragable authority to expose the frauds and impostures of shallow sciolists. How many false oracles on our origin or our nature would be produced against religion, and would even obtain credit, if the true man of science were not there to bar the way by his decisive contradiction! We need not hesitate to place to the credit of science those discoveries which have modified our ideas as to the antiquity of the world, its construction and its motion. Instead of looking at these as so many rebuffs, we may see in them new aids to the progress of religion. No scientific discovery has thrown any doubt on the existence of God as the primary cause of all things. Every new one, on the contrary, has shown us more clearly how wonderful He is in all His works. By showing us how imperfectly we have hitherto understood those works, these discoveries make us more humble, and therefore more religious. By correcting our erroneous ideas, they purify the homage which we offer to God, and we offer it more acceptably because He is no longer unknown; by enlightening us on certain arguments hitherto drawn from Holy Scripture, they enable us to understand more fully the manner in which the Holy Spirit of God has co-operated in the work of men ; and there is still a further service which science renders to theology in warning those who are engaged in the latter study to approach with the greatest care all matters which touch upon human science.
1 We except the rabid fanatics ; they, however, only attack religion when they leave the branch of science in which they have earned distinction.
In the Conference which we have already referred to, Poincaré declares that Pasteur’s faith was as fresh and vigorous in the normal school as in surroundings most antagonistic to scientific culture.1 He congratulates Pasteur on having given enlightened minds to the service of humanity, and, speaking of the Catholic pupils of the famous chemist, he says : “ Whatever may be their opinions, they are our friends ; and if all the rest were like these, we could live on good terms with them.”2 It could not be more clearly admitted that there is no reason why science should break with religion, and we may well return the compliment, and say of the scientists that Poincaré describes : “ In spite of their opinions, these men are not our enemies ; and if all the rest were like them, we could live on good terms with them.”
1 Conf. cited, p. 288. 2 Conf. cited, p. 298.
In their final results science and religion cannot contradict one another ; and instead of having to be limited one by the other, due freedom is given to each, so that they may render each other mutual help.
A superficial glance may lead us to imagine an antagonism between the religious ideal and the scientific ideal, but a more careful examination will reveal them to us as parallels. True science and true religion alike call for the judicious use of our intellectual powers, the one on the natural phenomenal world—that is to say, the world which is perceived by the senses—the other on what we might call the supernatural phenomenal world, the word of God, which is contained in the double treasury of the Scriptures and tradition, and to which we give the assent of faith. By the aid of superficial observations the ordinary man, like the scientist, gathers a first stock of ideas and impressions, like the fruits of the earth, which we gather with our hands. The supernatural world is simi- larly revealed with its dogmas to all believers. Scientific observation of the natural world enriches our minds with the knowledge of forces and laws which are called new, not because they have only just come into existence, but because they have hitherto escaped our notice. Scientific study, applied to the supernatural world, and here specially aided by God, brings to light truths hitherto hidden in the Divine deposit. These are the new dogmas. Thus is fulfilled the desire expressed in such eloquent language by the declaration of the Vatican Council (Sess. iii. de fide, cap. 4) : “ Let knowledge, science, and wisdom grow with the course of times and centuries, in individuals as well as in the community, in each man as in the whole Church, but in the proper manner—i.e., in the same dogma, in the same meaning, in the same understanding.” In the natural world, the scientist constructs his logical theories, his catalogue, as M. Poincaré would say, in which various phenomena are shown to be so connected as to form one harmonious whole ; but he cannot give to his classifications the force of objective truth.
In a similar manner the theologian looks to philosophy for a rational system to co-ordinate dogmas. If he does not deny the objective value of his deductions, he nevertheless refrains from making them articles of faith : they are not new dogmas. But for those mysteries which are beyond his reason he gives up, like the scientist, the objective explanation, and is content with analogical images and symbols, which do away with the objection that faith is opposed to reason. After a period of hesitation between various systems of philosophy, the theologian ended by adopting the system of Aristotle, as being the best adapted for his purpose. Does not the scientist in the same manner choose the theory which promises to be of most use to him ? But while his theory is being perfected, and new laws are discovered to confirm it, the scientist is conscious that he is making progress ; he feels, not without emotion, that he is approaching that solid ground of absolute reality which is in no way cognizable by him: for at that point there would be an end of progress. In the same way the theologian, elaborating and perfecting his explanations, feels that he is drawing nearer to a truth which is altogether beyond the bounds of human cognition. The succession of theological systems on the Real Presence, the causality of the sacraments, etc., shows clearly that there is a process of development in religious science.
The last complaint against religion—at least, against positive religion—may also receive a complete answer. Religion, we are told, imposes an act of faith, and habits of faith produce intellectual degradation. But are the attitude of the believer and the attitude of the scientist necessarily opposed, and does one destroy the other ? Let us set aside the immense difference there is between an act of Divine faith and an act of human faith, more or less strictly understood, as this difference is hardly relevant to the present issue ; and let us note what are the characteristics of the attitude of the believer and the attitude of the scientist. In the former we find a disposition to accept, on the word of another, something that the believer cannot verify personally ; the latter is a tendency to inquire and see for oneself.
Thus understood, each attitude is the complement of the other, and humanity cannot do without either. Every man, being at the same time an independent individual, and a member of the human race, must both see for himself and also make use of the eyes of another. If he refuses to see for himself, he is false to his rational nature ; if he refuses to believe, he is false to his social nature. The child must believe in his father, his mother, his masters ; the sick man must obey his physician ; the people must listen to men who are better informed than themselves.1
1 Too often, unfortunately, they follow leaders who are not at all trustworthy.
No man can refuse to the knowledge and honesty of some other man that trust which is dictated by the act of faith ; and scientists are bound to believe in one another, for they take up the work left unfinished by others. If they wish to proceed farther with it, they must accept the results already arrived at; and what enormous proportions their faith assumes in certain branches of science, especially in that of history !
Science discovers, faith retains ; science is the element of progress, faith is the element of stability ; science presents us with new facts, faith represents tradition; strict science, which is - personal and individualist, and only desires to see for itself, would divide men ; faith keeps them together, grouped round a central authority. But science cannot exist without the co-operation of many, and consequently requires mutual faith. Faith, being more receptive in its acquisition of knowledge, reserves its activity for works ; it makes use of the discoveries of science, and applies the lever at the fixed point which science indicates ; it procures for the scientist the honour due to him, and the disciples who encourage him in his labour. Science seeks to create faith, for every scientist desires to be believed ; and so human nature goes on, constantly sustained by science and faith.
Moreover, at the very basis of scientific researches there is a conviction which is incapable of proof, a belief without sight, which resembles the act of faith, strictly so called. Poincare and M. Duhem are agreed on this point. The former says : “ Every generalization presupposes, in a certain measure, a belief in the unity and the simplicity of Nature ”;1 and the latter : “ It is all very well for the natural philosopher to be convinced that his theories have no power to grasp the reality ... he affirms his faith in a real order, of which his theories have an image which every day grows clearer and more like the reality.”1 And what a support it is for the true believer in the course of his labour, while so many sceptical voices are raised to scoff at his pains and deny the necessity for them, to feel that his scientific efforts are made under the aegis of convictions which cannot fail!2 Lastly, faith tends to be changed into knowledge. The child, as he grows up, believes less and sees more ; and his sight often confirms, but sometimes corrects, the teaching of an authority which is fallible, as all human authority must necessarily be.
1 La Science et l’Hypothèse, p. 172.
1 La Théorie Physique, son Objet et sa Structure, p. 38.
2 A. de Lapparent, La Recherche Scientifique et la Foi, in the Revue Pratique d’Apologétique, t. 2, p. 269.
God, then, has not done violence to our nature, but has satisfied its most intimate aspirations by teaching us, like a father who can never deceive us, vital truths which we could not acquire for ourselves. This faith, also, will one day be changed into sight, a sight which will justify it in the most perfect happiness ; but that sight is reserved for that ripe and perfect age which we shall attain in the other life. And in the meantime this faith calls science to its aid to explore its object, to verify its sources of information, and to discriminate better between what is Divine and what is human ; and in exchange it gives to science a force and an extension of activity, and counsels of prudence which preserve it from a crowd of errors.
Human science and faith, human as well as Divine, are given to us that we may receive light from both ; and it is our own fault if they seem to contradict each other. These imaginary conflicts are not imputable to science or to faith, but to ourselves, who are too ready to say, I believe, or I know. Reason affirms this, and experience proves it; and the more reality there is in science, and the more purity in faith, the rarer will be these conflicts, and the easier of solution. Counterfeit science presumptuously sets itself up in opposition to the Church and Divine faith. The liberty of true science has neither the will nor the power to harm them.
Man, in his intellectual and moral life, as in his physical life, must combine the use of the different forces of which he is composed. The alliance of science and faith is imposed upon humanity as a difficult problem, it may be, but one that is necessary, and fruitful in glorious results. As it realizes this alliance, the human race makes progress towards perfection, for it cannot give up either the one or the other. Our intellectual curiosity is too lively to be satisfied without science, and the world only rejects faith to fall into credulity. The first falsehood that it blindly accepts is the dogma of its emancipation; and what a tissue of incoherent absurdities is put forward as the creed of the world by the false prophets of the school, the Press, and the senate!
Let us do justice to both science and faith ; and as we are obliged so often to believe in men, let us not, under the pretext of science or scientific liberty, refuse to believe in God, or to reject a priori a faith which comes to us as the gift of the Author of Divine Revelation.
V. The Genesis of Civil Tolerance.
Summary : Effective tolerance is much more a concession made to necessity and to material or political interests than a fruit of philosophic or religious doctrines.— Influence of humanism, of the school of natural law, and of scepticism.—Is tolerance a fruit of the Protestant Reformation ?
Tolerance exists as a fact, more or less extended, but real; as a right, recorded in codes of law and even in constitutions; and as a popular ideal. It will, then, be convenient to investigate its origin, or, rather, to put it in evidence, for the preceding pages, in describing doctrines and events and the order of their succession, have already given a substantial account of it.
In the New World, as in the Old World, treaties of tolerance have been concluded, edicts have been published, and laws enacted, as an inevitable consequence of the divisions which have separated the peoples into different Christian bodies, and have necessitated the recognition and regulation of various forms of worship on the same territory. Christians have had to live with Jews ; henceforth Christians of different denominations must live in peace together. Material interests, too, the voice of which is almost always listened to, plead the cause of tolerance. We must also add political considerations. Merchants of different nationalities and beliefs must be enabled to meet in the same markets ; and in North America it became necessary for the different religious bodies, established side by side on the same territory, to come to an understanding, in order to obtain political unity, and finally complete independence. For the Old World we may mention, as an example, the secret treaties admitting heretical merchants into the Spanish Netherlands ; for the New World it will be enough to quote the testimony of Hägermann. In a study specially intended to show the influence of the religious factor on the libertarian movement in America, that learned writer comes to the distinct conclusion that decrees of toleration have often had economic or political circumstances as their first cause.1
1 Die Erklärungen der Menschen- und Bürgerrechte in den ersten Amerikanischen Staatsverfassungen; Berlin, 1910 (Historische Studien herausgegeben von E. Ebering, No. 78).
Considered as satisfying a right of man, civil tolerance does not originate from any desire to promote peace, or any process of intellectual reasoning. It was only in 1776 that America proclaimed the right to religious liberty ; but this liberty had already found its way into public life, as a means of settling disputes entirely unconnected with religion. Thus we sum up the observations of M. Adalbert Wacht.2
2 Zur Geschichte der Menschenrechte (Historische Zeit- schrift, 1909, t. 103, p. 82).
We must not, however, neglect to make allowance for the rise of new ideas on the subject of religion, or underrate their influence. When supernatural faith and life grow weaker, concepts of religion are formed which contain the germ of a more radical tolerantist doctrine, and the exigencies of facts at the same time become more and more pressing.
From our point of view we can thus distinguish three periods or stages, corresponding to medieval Catholicism, the modern Renaissance, and the contemporary Revolution.
For ages after the triumph of Christianity, all education was given and all edification perfected on the basis of Revelation. Only one religion was known—the religion given by God. It reigned in undisputed sovereignty, and sciences and politics alike took their inspiration from it.
As long as this faith was supreme in men’s minds, it was impossible to speak against religion without offering an outrageous insult to God ; and the idea of putting human error and Divine truth on an equality was rejected as blasphemous. Faith would have incited even the believer to violence and fanaticism if the meekness of Christ had not intervened, as it always does in true Christianity, to forbid hatred, to moderate anger, and to prevent violent excesses.
In the second period of pagan renaissance, cultivated minds took their stand on human reason rather than on faith, moulded their style on classic models, and sought to establish on the principles of natural law the rules of political government, and the rights and duties of Sovereigns and subjects. Without precisely denying revealed religion, they compared its claims with those of natural religion ; they endeavoured to define the authority in religious matters that the Sovereign would have exercised if it had not been for the institution of the Church, and to show the influence of that institution on the juridical position of Governments.
Natural religion is no longer Divine, except in its object. It is human in its developments ; and the mind, in taking natural religion for its base, by degrees becomes accustomed to consider different religions as so many human constructions springing from the religious foundation laid in our hearts. The idea of giving equal treatment to different forms of worship meets with less resistance, and soon the religion which asks for favours or privileges, or a monopoly, will be looked upon as giving way to jealousy and setting up an unjust claim.
On the other hand, the duties of the Sovereign with regard to religion are no longer estimated according to revealed commandments, but according to the indications of Nature. He protects religion less for God or for its own sake than for the sake of society ; and thence it begins to be discussed how far a single religion—that is, a State religion—is necessary. Men write on the mutual rights of the conscience and the Sovereign, and easily end by restricting the authority of the latter to outward and public worship. Men no longer trouble themselves so much about truth or about social unity, and so heretics come to be defined as “ Christians who obstinately refuse to join in the profession of faith officially received and approved in the State.”1
1 Karl Fuhrmann, Dissertatio inauguralis juridica de Tolerantiæ religiosæ effectibus civilibus ; Halle, 1762.
This indifference shown to the various forms of religion—at least, to those which are called “ Christian ”—is, in fact, a mild form of scepticism ; and partial scepticism bears within it the germ of more complete scepticism, which degenerates from diluted Christianity into philosophic Deism, only to end in simple atheism.
Political tolerance is obliged to enlarge the scope of its concessions, for men are not agreed even as to the existence of God. Atheists claim to be recognized, and even those who are not atheists desire to establish society on a purely human foundation. That was the spirit of the French Revolution. With it all reason for intolerance had disappeared. By that we mean the intolerance which was exercised in favour of religion ; but a new form of intolerance remained possible, and its first edicts were signed by the French Revolution. This is the intolerance which persecutes religion, and specially the Catholic Church, in the name of a vague secular dogma, which is sometimes dignified by the honourable name of “ progress.”
Such, in short, it seems to us, is the genesis of civil tolerance. An unfortunate event made it necessary, and an increasing contempt for religion made an idol of it. Its history, or three-fourths of it, is the history of religious decay.
The tolerance which is admitted and professed by Catholics is a matter of necessity ; but it is, nevertheless, sincere and loyal and constant.
And what of Protestantism, it will be asked ? The leaders of the Reformation were certainly anything but tolerant. They persecuted wherever they had the power. Some of them, like Zwingli and Calvin, hankered after a pitiless theocracy modelled on that of the Old Testament, and all the more terrible because it gave up everything to the head of the State. As late as the second half of the seventeenth century, Thomasius continually taxed the Protestant ministers with continuing the traditions of Popery.1
1 See, for instance, his Dialogue, An Hæresis sit Crimen; and he frequently returns to this idea in his other works.
They certainly can take no credit for the spread of tolerance ; but did they not help it unconsciously ? Was not civil tolerance a necessary result of Protestant teaching ?
Opinions on this point are divided; and in the Catholic camp, as in the Protestant, some persons admit and others deny that tolerance is a logical postulate of Protestantism.
It is not, say some ; and they appeal to the theocratic concept of the Reformers and their acts.2 Others say that it is, and point to the principle of private judgment, which Protestantism substituted for the principle of authority, even in religion.
2 See this opinion very seriously defended by Nicolaus Paulus in Protestantismus und Toleranz im 16 Jahrhundert, n. 25. The author specially quotes the recent words of Eberhard Gothein, In den neuen evangelischen Konfessionen lag an sich kein Element der Toleranz (Die Kultur der Gegen- wart, part ii., p. 194; Berlin, 1908).
There is something to be said on both sides. Nothing in orthodox Protestantism, which retained a belief in Christ and Holy Scripture, logically contained a dogma of absolute tolerance ; but a limited tolerance seems necessarily to follow from the individualist principle of private judgment. This principle inevitably led to the disruption of Christianity into rival sects, no one of which had any claim to supremacy over the others. It produced a diversity of opinions, which was afterwards, with great inconsistency, denounced and condemned. Thus we soon see Protestant writers rising against the oppression of one sect by another, and showing that they are of one mind on essential points.
This tolerance, which was limited to Christian sects without being extended even to all of them, was opposed by reasons of State, the rights of the Sovereign, and that alienation of personal rights which was implied by a theory much in favour with the jurists of the Reformation—the theory of the social contract.
But complete tolerance is not by any means the result of Protestantism. Friedberg expresses himself in these terms : “ In tolerance, as we understand it, we must, before all things, recognize a product of the school of natural law, of the period of the Aufklärung,1 and, to some extent, of religious indifference in general.”2 In short, it is rooted in humanism, rationalism, and irreligion. Dollinger wrote in 1861 : “ Historically there is no greater mistake than to consider the Reformation as a movement in favour of liberty of conscience. The exact opposite is the truth.”3
1 The Germans use this word to denote the rationalistic renaissance of law and philosophy which took place in Germany in the eighteenth century.
2 Deutsche Zeitschrift für Kirchenrecht, 1905, xxxvii. 477.
3 Kirche und Kirchen, p. 68.
VI. What Agreement is Possible ?
Summary : Modern maxims of liberty.—They do not disclose any new political principle : their application is not even constant.—Their popularity depends on another appreciation of the common good.—But it is with a view to this good that men now, as formerly, grant or restrict civil liberties.—Between believers and unbelievers the conflict is not political, but religious. —On what basis can a mutual understanding be promoted ?—On a convention of practical tolerance, inspired and sustained by charity.—Ephemeral reign of doctrinal liberalism.—What it has taught Catholics.
“ No one shall be molested on account of his opinions, even his religious opinions, and no one shall incur any incapacity or disability on that account. Everyone is at liberty to express and spread his opinions, even his religious opinions, and to associate himself with others, provided that they conform to the laws relating to associations, and do not disturb the public peace.” Do these provisions, which are found in many laws and constitutions, prove the existence of that radical antagonism between the political principles of Catholics and those of the modern State which is alleged by many persons, and to which they even appeal as a reason for excluding Catholics from power and official position, or for inducing them to withdraw voluntarily ? Our study of doctrines and facts since the French Revolution has shown us that they do not. If these formulæ are intended to indicate a new policy, they should be derived from a principle both absolute and new, which we cannot find anywhere— certainly not in the conscience, the inviolability of which has always existed without any such declaration of liberty, for throughout the ages no one has defended it more eloquently than the Church by the blood of her martyrs and the voice of her most illustrious doctors ; not in the Declaration of the Rights of Man, “ which no one has ever applied, which its authors were the first to contravene, and which on the least pretext is put aside altogether.”1
1 Victor Jacobs, Les Droits Naturels de l’Homme, p. 681.
In more than one country Catholics are left to hope that some day they will see a more liberal and more equitable application of these provisions in their favour ; and they learn to their cost the unsubstantial character of the sacrosanct principle that gives liberty to every opinion. There are other significant exceptions to the rule. The idea which suggests the commission of a crime is an opinion, but who will justify the propagation of that opinion ? And what are we to think of the attacks made upon principles considered as essential to existing society ? Ought the civil power to disregard them ? “ The question remains open, and in practice is not susceptible of any but temporary solutions.” Such is the astonishing but instructive reply of an authorized representative of contemporary rationalistic politics, M. Bouché-Leclercq. Ten lines earlier the same author had written that the State “condemned nothing but acts!”2 The question remains open, in spite of the natural rights of man and their immortal Declaration, in spite of the much-vaunted abolition of the crime of opinion. And would not many vote against liberty of discussion of the general policy of laicization and of laws proclaimed unalterable ? To prove this, see the discourses of French Members of Parliament. And what would become of liberty of opinions and their public expression in days of revolutionary effervescence, when tribunals are set up to search for suspected persons ?1 Is not the fact that a palpable material interest is in danger enough to make the rationalist Press and the accredited organs of modern politics complain of mischievous and dangerous theories ; to make them use the language of former days, and show themselves ready to ratify the most violent measures of proscription ?2 If anyone ventured to express astonishment, they would reply by appealing to social necessities.
2 L’Intolérance Religieuse et la Politique, pp. 354, 355.
1 Let us remember 1793, and let us observe what is actually going on in Portugal.
2 To be convinced of this, we have only to read some of the articles published in certain newspapers of the Left at the time of the French railway strikes in 1911.
And now they come round to the Catholic point of view, which considers civil liberties valuable in proportion as they conduce to the public good. Men have varied in the idea of what is good, but all honest policy is directed to the attainment of that end. Modern philosophers and politicians, on the one hand, considering religion as a thing of no value to the community, and, on the other hand, intoxicated with evolutionism and relativist opinions, were led to look for the principles of a new order in ideas now considered subversive of all order, and to make free discussion an essential condition of progress ; and they naturally declared for liberty of opinions and their expression, and the most absolute religious tolerance. But for what reason ? For the sake of some right of man or some new philosophy ? It would seem so at first sight, but this is not the case really. The true reason was that they looked upon all religious tolerance as socially inoffensive, and the tolerance of opinions as socially useful. Thus, when facts speak too loudly, and an opinion seems to endanger social order as they imagine it, their declarations are ignored, and their dogma of absolute tolerance is entirely forgotten.
The policy of the modern State, then, has no supreme positive principle peculiar to itself, for the principle of the rights of man is neither supreme nor even effective. Society may be deceived as to its foundations and its essential principles; but it remains true that “every society is intolerant in regard to what attacks its foundations,” and absolute liberty in religious and philosophical matters is “ a system of anarchy which never has existed, and never will exist anywhere.”1 “Absolute liberalism is a sociological heresy, for it misunderstands the essential conditions of social life ; and for that very reason it is an impossible and purely Utopian idea.” M. L. de la Vallée-Poussin thus concludes the reflections suggested by M. Goblet d’Alviella’s work on the congresses of religion.2
1 V. Jacobs, article above quoted.
2 Revue Pratique d’Apologétique, December 1, 1910.
Between believers and unbelievers the discord is not political, but religious. If unbelievers were converted to-morrow, if they looked upon religion as we look upon it, the dogma of religious tolerance would have no more adherents, and all men would understand tolerance as we do.
But while we are waiting for this conversion to take place, will not the irreconcilable religious conflict necessarily put citizens on a footing of mutual hostility ? How can we imagine civic peace among people who, while disagreeing as to the foundations of social order, are, nevertheless, agreed on the necessity of defending them ? If the first disagreement were complete, peace and fraternity could not exist at all. At present they are only rendered more difficult of attainment. A more fragile and more superficial peace may be established on a basis of ideas remaining common to both parties, and on a certain natural sense of honour and morality, which are admitted by all persons to be necessary, provided that Catholics do not seek to force upon others their ideas on religion, nor unbelievers their evolutionist doctrine, and consequently their dogma of tolerance, which is the fruit of that doctrine. This peace admits, and, indeed, peremptorily demands, a practical rule of tolerance, but a tolerance founded upon a principle of charity, and not upon a religious theory, which would be the negation of Catholicism. Still less does it demand the recognition of an absolute dogmatic tolerance, which is a myth, an idol without worshippers. Such a peace, immediately made and loyally observed, may ultimately lead to the restoration of religious unity.
Catholics have always been willing to conclude such a peace, and to observe its conditions, and so were the Liberals of the Belgian Constitution. But the death-knell of that Liberalism has sounded, and radical extremists claim to monopolize the idea of true progress, to set the pace for society, and so to proceed methodically and pitilessly, even by way of confiscation and banishment, to the elimination of the religious idea. Liberalism has passed away. False in principle, it has fallen into ruin, dragging with it its bigoted followers into the mire of irreligious demagoguism. But, like all error, it has left its portion of truth as a heritage to the Church and to Catholics.
God, indeed, who protects His Church, does not exempt it from the conditions of human life and progress, nor does He preserve it from all liability to failure. Infallible in her teaching authority, but not in her practical politics (at least, there is nothing to prove it), she learns from experience, which is sometimes happy and sometimes painful, how best to direct her steps towards her glorious end. And thus all ages, even the worst, have been fruitful in teaching for the Church.
Born on Calvary, hunted down and persecuted for more than three hundred years, the Church has retained from the first period of her history that aversion to bloodshed that we claim as her chief honour ; and she has proclaimed in the face of the whole world that faith must proceed from the will moved by the grace of God.
A second period showed her the lawfulness and expediency of outward coercion—not to produce convictions, but to preserve them, and sometimes to give them liberty ; less to force than to permit people to believe. Public authorities, under the pressure of circumstances, proceeded to measures of extreme severity, which received the approval of the heads of the Church. Then appeared the uselessness and impotence of severity. Neither wars nor courts of justice were able to prevent a disruption, but for which a wholly Catholic Europe would have formed a Christian universe. The Church had to pay very dearly for the services of the secular arm ; and, however lawful and necessary its intervention may have been, it has left behind it a prejudice and distrust from which we are still suffering. St. Augustine wrote in 512 : “ In times of turbulence and danger, moderation is looked upon as a sign of weakness or indifference ; but when once the excitement has passed away, the beauty of mercy is recognized, and men take pleasure in reading the annals in which it is recorded.”1 Noxious germs are always swarming in the air that surrounds our globe, and cause to feeble organisms harm that sometimes requires heroic remedies, while healthy bodies are able to resist their influence. If the reforming Council of Trent had been assembled a century earlier, it might have saved Christianity from that religious disaster which is still the greatest misfortune of the world.
1 Letter to Marcellinus (M.P.L., t. 33, p. 535).
A third period thus begins in the midst of rebellions and apostasies, in the course of which the Church devotes her attention to herself, applies herself with all her power to beautify and strengthen her inward position, and displays the immense resources that she possesses in the purity of her doctrine, the exemplary life of her ministers, the virtues of her faithful children, the enlightenment of her preaching, and the sweet unction of her sacraments. When outward help fails, she feels her own inward vigour increase ; when civil Governments refuse to stand by her, she pursues her own course unaided ; and what she loses in the prestige of physical force, she gains in a prestige of moral force more sublime, more impressive, more successful in winning hearts that long for enlightenment and peace.
Formed thus in the school of twenty centuries, that Church is now preparing, by the gentleness and the virtues of her mature age, to win back from anarchy that same world, now mad with licence, which, by the gentleness and the virtues of her infancy, she delivered from the degrading despotism of Cæsar.