Protestantism and Catholicity

If you deprive the human mind of the support of authority of some kind or other, on what can it depend? Abandoned to its own delirious dreams, it is forced again into the gloomy paths which led the philosophers of the ancient schools to chaos. Reason and experience are here agreed. If you substitute the private judgment of Protestants for the authority of the Church, all the great questions respecting God and man remain without solution. All the difficulties are left; the mind is in darkness, and seeks in vain for a light to guide it in safety: stunned by the voices of a hundred schools, who dispute without being able to throw any light on the subject, it relapses into that state of discouragement and prostration in which Christianity found it, and from which, with so much exertion, she had withdrawn it. Doubt, pyrrhonism, and indifference become the lot of the greatest minds; vain theories, hypothetical systems, and dreams take possession of men of more moderate abilities; the ignorant are reduced to superstitions and absurdities.

Of what use, then, would Christianity have been on the earth, and what would have been the progress of humanity? Happily for the human race, the Christian religion was not abandoned to the whirlwind of Protestant sects. In Catholic authority she has found ample means of resisting the attacks of sophistry and error. What would have become of her without it? Would the sublimity of her doctrines, the wisdom of her precepts, the unction of her counsels, have been now any thing more than a beautiful dream, related in enchanting language by a great philosopher? Yes, I must repeat, without the authority of the Church there is no security for faith; the divinity of Jesus Christ becomes a matter of doubt; His mission is disputed; in fact, the Christian religion disappears. If she cannot show us her heavenly titles, give us full certainty that she has come from the bosom of the Eternal, that her words are those of God Himself, and that He has condescended to appear on earth for the salvation of men, she has then lost her right to demand our veneration. Reduced to the level of human ideas, she must, then, submit to our judgment like other mere opinions; at the tribunal of philosophy she may endeavor to maintain her doctrines as more or less reasonable; but she will always be liable to the reproach of having wished to deceive us, by passing herself off as divine when she was only human; and in all discussions on the truth of her doctrines, she will have this fatal presumption against her, viz. that the account of her origin was an imposture.

Protestants boast of their independence of mind, and reproach the Catholic religion with violating the most sacred rights, by demanding a submission which outrages the dignity of man. Here extravagant declamation about the strength of our understanding is introduced with good effect; and a few seductive images and expressions, such as "bold flights" and "glittering wings," &c., are enough to delude many readers.

Let the human mind enjoy all its rights; let it boast of possessing that spark of divinity called the intellect; let it pass over all nature in triumph, observing all the beings by which it is surrounded, and congratulate itself on its own immense superiority, in the midst of the wonders with which it has known how to embellish its abode; let it point out, as proofs of its strength and grandeur, the changes which are everywhere worked by its presence; by its intellectual force and boldness it has acquired the complete mastery over nature. Let us acknowledge the dignity and elevation of our minds to show our gratitude to our Creator, but let us not forget our weakness and defects. Why should we deceive ourselves by fancying that we know what we are really ignorant of? Why forget the inconstancy and variableness of our minds, and conceal the fact, that with respect to many things, even of those with which we are supposed to be acquainted, we have but confused ideas? How delusive is our knowledge, and what exaggerated notions we have of our progress in information? Does not one day contradict what another had affirmed? Time runs its course, laughs at our predictions, destroys our plans, and clearly shows how vain are our projects.

What have those geniuses who have descended to the foundations of science, and risen by the boldest flights to the loftiest speculations, told us? After having reached the utmost limits of the space which it is permitted to the human mind to range over, – after having trodden the most secret paths of science, and sailed on the vast ocean of moral and physical nature, the greatest minds of all ages have returned dissatisfied with the results. They have seen a beautiful illusion appear before their eyes, – the brilliant image which enchanted them has vanished; when they thought they were about to enter a region of light, they have found themselves surrounded with darkness, and they have viewed with affright the extent of their ignorance. It is for this reason that the greatest minds have so little confidence in the strength of the human intellect, although they cannot but be fully aware that they are superior to other men. The sciences, in the profound observation of Pascal, have two extremes which meet each other: the first is, the pure natural state of ignorance in which men are at their birth; the other extreme is, that at which great minds arrive when, having reached the utmost extent of human knowledge, they find that they know nothing, and that they are still in the same state of ignorance as at first. (Pensées, 1 partie, art. 6.)

Catholicism says to man, "Thy intellect is weak, thou hast need of a guide in many things." Protestantism says to him, "Thou art surrounded by light, walk as thou wilt; thou canst not have a better guide than thyself." Which of the two religions is most in accordance with the lessons of the highest philosophy?

It is not, therefore, surprising that the greatest minds among Protestants have all felt a certain tendency towards Catholicism, and have seen the wisdom of subjecting the human mind, in some things, to the decision of an infallible authority. Indeed, if an authority can be found uniting in its origin, its duration, its doctrines, and its conduct, all the characteristics of divinity, why should the mind refuse to submit to her; and what has it to gain by wandering, at the mercy of its illusions, on the most serious subjects, in paths where it only meets with recollections of errors, with warnings and delusions?

If the human mind has conceived too great an esteem for itself, let it study its own history, in order to see and understand how little security is to be found in its own strength. Abounding in systems, inexhaustible in subtilties; as ready in conceiving a project as incapable of maintaining it; full of ideas which arise, agitate, and destroy each other, like the insects which abound in lakes; now raising itself on the wings of sublime inspiration, and now creeping like a reptile on the face of the earth; as able and willing to destroy the works of others, as it is impotent to construct any durable ones of its own; urged on by the violence of passion, swollen with pride, confounded by the infinite variety of objects which present themselves to it; confused by so many false lights and so many deceptive appearances, the human mind, when left entirely to itself, resembles those brilliant meteors which dart at random through the immensity of the heavens, assume a thousand eccentric forms, send forth a thousand sparks, dazzle for a moment by their fantastic splendour, and disappear without leaving even a reflected light to illuminate the darkness.

Behold the history of man's knowledge! In that immense and confused heap of truth, error, sublimity, absurdity, wisdom, and folly, are collected the proofs of my assertions, and to that do I refer any one who may be inclined to accuse me of having overcharged the picture.7

CHAPTER V.

INSTINCT OF FAITH IN THE SCIENCES

The truth of what I have just advanced with respect to the weakness of our intellect, is proved by the fact that the hand of God has placed at the bottom of our souls a preservative against the excessive changeability of our minds, even in things which do not regard religion. Without this preservative all social institutions would be destroyed, or rather never would have had existence; without it the sciences would not have advanced a step, and when it had disappeared from the human heart, individuals and society would have been swallowed up by chaos. I allude to a certain tendency to defer to authority – to the instinct of faith, if I may so call it – an instinct which we ought to examine with great attention, if we wish to know any thing of the human mind, and the history of its development.

It has often been observed that it is impossible to comply with the most urgent necessities, or perform the most ordinary acts of life, without respecting the authority of the statement of others; it is easy to understand that, without this faith, all the treasures of history and experience would soon be dissipated, and that even the foundation of all knowledge would disappear.

These important observations are calculated to show how vain is the charge against the Catholic religion, of requiring nothing but faith; but this is not my only object here; I wish to present the matter under another aspect, and place the question in such a position as to make this truth gain in extent and interest, without losing any thing of its immovable firmness. In looking over the history of human knowledge, and glancing at the opinions of our contemporaries, we constantly observe that the men who boast the most of their spirit of inquiry and freedom of thought, only echo the opinions of others. If we examine with attention that great study which, under the name of science, has made so much noise in the world, we shall observe that it contains at bottom a large portion of authority; and that if a perfectly free spirit of inquiry were to be introduced into it, even with respect to points of pure reason, the greatest part of the edifice of science would be destroyed, and very few men would remain in possession of its secrets.

No branch of knowledge, whatever may be the clearness and exactitude of which it boasts, is an exception to this rule. Do not the natural and exact sciences, rich as they are in evident principles, rigorous in their deductions, abounding in observation and experience, depend, nevertheless, for a great many of their truths, upon other truths of a higher nature; the knowledge of which necessarily requires a delicacy of observation, a power of calculation, a clear and penetrating coup d'œil, which belongs to few?

When Newton proclaimed to the scientific world the fruit of his profound calculations, how many of his disciples could flatter themselves that they were able to confirm them by their own convictions? I do not except from this question many of those who, by laborious efforts, had been able to comprehend something of this great man; they had followed the mathematician in his calculations, they had a full knowledge of the mass of facts and experience which the naturalist exposed to their view; they had listened to the reasons on which the philosopher rested his conjectures; in this way they thought that they were fully convinced, and that they did not owe their assent to any thing but the force of reason and evidence. Well, take away the name of Newton, efface from the mind the profound impression made by the authority of the man who made so extraordinary a discovery, and has employed so much genius in supporting it, – take away, I repeat it, the shade of Newton, and you will directly see, in the minds of his disciples, their principles vacillate, their reasonings become less convincing and exact, and their observations appear less in accordance with the facts. Then, he who thought himself a perfectly impartial observer, a perfectly independent thinker, will see and understand to how great an extent he was enthralled by the force of authority, by the ascendency of genius; he will find that, on a variety of points, he assented without being convinced; and that, instead of being a perfectly independent philosopher, he was only an obedient and accomplished pupil.

I appeal with confidence to the testimony, not of the ignorant, not of those who have only a smattering of scientific knowledge, but of real men of learning, of those who have devoted much time to the various branches of study. Let them look into their own minds, let them examine anew what they call their scientific convictions, let them ask themselves, with perfect calmness and impartiality, whether, even on those subjects in which they consider themselves the most advanced, their minds are not frequently controlled by the ascendency of some author of the first rank. I believe they will be compelled to acknowledge that, if they strictly applied the method of Descartes even to some of the questions which they have studied the most, they would find that they believe rather than are convinced. Such always has been, and such always will be, the case. It is a thing deeply rooted in the nature of our minds, and it cannot be prevented. Perhaps the regulation is a matter of absolute necessity; perhaps it contains much of that instinct of preservation which God, with so much wisdom, has diffused throughout society; perhaps it is intended to counteract the many elements of dissolution which society contains within its bosom. Undoubtedly, it is often very much to be regretted that men servilely follow in the footsteps of others, and injurious consequences not unfrequently are the result. But it would be still worse, if men constantly held themselves in an attitude of resistance to all others, for fear of deception. Woe to man and to society, if the philosophic mania of wishing to submit all matters to a rigorous examination were to become general in the world; and woe to science, if this rigorous, scrupulous, and independent scrutiny were extended to every thing.

I admire the genius of Descartes, and acknowledge the signal services which he has rendered to science; but I have more than once thought that, if his method of doubting became general for any time, society would be destroyed. And it seems to me that, among learned men themselves, among impartial philosophers, this method would do great harm; at least, it may be supposed that the number of men devoid of sense in the scientific world would be considerably increased.

Happily there is no danger of this being the case. If it be true that there is always in man a certain tendency towards folly, there is also always to be found there a fund of good sense which cannot be destroyed. When certain individuals of heated imaginations attempt to involve society in their delirium, society answers with a smile of derision; or if it allows itself to be seduced for a moment, it soon returns to its senses, and repels with indignation those who have endeavored to lead it astray. Passionate declamation against vulgar prejudice, against docility in following others and willingness to believe all without examination, is only considered as worthy of contempt by those who are intimately acquainted with human nature. Are not these feelings participated in by many who belong not to the vulgar? Are not the sciences full of gratuitous suppositions, and have they not their weak points, with which, however, we are satisfied, as if they afforded a firm basis to rest upon?

The right of possession and prescription is also one of the peculiarities which the sciences present to us; and it is well worthy of remark that, without ever having borne the name, this right has been acknowledged by a tacit but unanimous consent. How can this be? Study the history of the sciences, and you will find at every step this right acknowledged and established. How is it, amid the continual disputes which have divided philosophers, that we see an old opinion make a long resistance to a new one, and sometimes succeed in preventing its establishment? It is because the old opinion was in possession, and was strengthened by the right of prescription. It is of no importance that the words were not used, the result was the same; this is the reason why discoverers have so often been despised, opposed, and even persecuted.

It is necessary to make this avowal, although it may be repugnant to our pride, and may scandalize some sincere admirers of the progress of knowledge. These advances have been numerous; the field over which the human mind has exercised itself, and its sphere of action, are immense; the works by which it has proved its power are admirable; but there is always in all this a large portion of exaggeration, and it is necessary to make a considerable allowance, especially in the moral sciences. It cannot justly be inferred, from these exaggerated statements, that our intellect is capable of advancing in every path with perfect ease and activity; no deduction can be drawn from it to contradict the fact which we have just established, viz. the mind of man is almost always in subjection, even imperceptibly, to the authority of other men.

In every age there appear a small number of privileged spirits, who, by nature superior to all the rest, serve as guides in the various careers; a numerous crowd, who think themselves learned, follow them with precipitation, and, fixing their eyes on the standard which has been raised, rush breathlessly after it; and yet, strange as it is, they all boast of their independence, and flatter themselves that they are distinguishing themselves by pursuing the new path; one would imagine that they had discovered it, and that they were walking in it guided by their own light and inspirations. Necessity, taste, or a thousand other circumstances, lead us to cultivate this or that branch of knowledge; our own weakness constantly tells us that we have no creative power; that we cannot produce any thing of our own, and that we are incapable of striking out a new path; but we flatter ourselves that we share some part of the glory belonging to the illustrious chief whose banner we follow; we sometimes will succeed in persuading ourselves, in the midst of these reveries, that we do not fight under anybody's standard, and that we are only rendering homage to our own convictions, when, in reality, we are the proselytes of others.

Herein common sense shows itself to be wiser than our weak reason; and thus language, which gives such deep expression to things, where we find, without knowing whence they come, so much truth and exactitude, gives us a severe admonition on the subject of these vain pretensions. In spite of us, language calls things by their right names, and knows how to class us and our opinions according to the leader that we follow. What is the history of science but the history of the contests of a small number of illustrious men? If we glance over ancient and modern times, and bring into view the various branches of knowledge, we shall see a number of schools founded by a philosopher of the first rank, and then falling under the direction of another whose talents have made him worthy to succeed the founder. Thus the thing goes on, until circumstances having changed, or the spirit of vitality being gone, the school dies a natural death, unless a man of bold and independent mind appears, who takes the old school and destroys it, in order to establish his own doctrines on the ruins.

When Descartes dethroned Aristotle, did he not immediately take his place? Then philosophers pretended to independence – an independence which was contradicted by the very name they bore, that of Cartesians. Like nations who, in times of rebellion, cry out for liberty, dethrone their old king, and afterwards submit to the first man who has the boldness to seize the vacant throne.

It is thought in our age, as it has been in times gone by, that the human mind acts with perfect independence, owing to declamation against authority in scientific matters, and the exaltation of the freedom of thought. The opinion has become general that, in these times, the authority of any one man is worth nothing; it has been thought that every man of learning acts according to his own convictions alone. Moreover, systems and hypotheses have lost all credit, and a great desire for examination and analysis has become prevalent. This has made people believe not only that authority in scientific matters is completely gone, but that it is henceforth impossible.

At first sight there appears to be some truth in this; but if we look attentively around us, we shall observe that the number of leaders is only somewhat increased, and the time of their command somewhat shortened. Our age is truly one of commotions, literary and scientific revolutions, like those in politics, where nations imagine that they possess more liberty because the government is placed in the hands of a greater number of persons, and because they find more facility in getting rid of their rulers. They destroy those men to whom but a short time before they have given the names of fathers and liberators; then, the first transport being passed, they allow other men to impose upon them a yoke in reality not less heavy. Besides the examples afforded us by the history of the past century, at the present day we see only great names succeed each other, and the leaders of the human mind take each other's places.

In the field of politics, where one would imagine the spirit of freedom ought to have full scope, do we not see men who take the lead; and are they not looked upon as the generals of an army during a campaign? In the parliamentary arena, do we see any thing but two or three bodies of combatants, performing their evolutions under their respective chiefs with perfect regularity and discipline? These truths are well understood by those who occupy these high positions! They are acquainted with our weakness, and they know that men are commonly deceived by mere words. A thousand times must they have been tempted to smile, when, contemplating the field of their triumphs, and seeing themselves surrounded by followers who, proud of their own intelligence, admire and applaud them, they have heard one of the most ardent of their disciples boast of his unlimited freedom of thought, and of the complete independence of his opinions and his votes.

Such is man, as shown to us by history and the experience of every day. The inspiration of genius, that sublime force which raises the minds of some privileged men, will always exercise, not only over the ignorant, but even over the generality of men who devote themselves to science, a real fascination. Where, then, is the insult which the Catholic religion offers to reason when, presenting titles which prove her divinity, she asks for that faith which men grant so easily to other men in matters of various kinds, and even in things with which they consider themselves to be the best acquainted? Is it an insult to human reason to point out to him a fixed and certain rule with respect to matters of the greatest importance, while, on the other hand, she leaves him perfectly free to think as he pleases on all the various questions which God has left to his discretion? In this the Church only shows herself to be in accordance with the lessons of the highest philosophy. She shows a profound knowledge of the human mind, and she delivers it from all the evils which are inflicted by its fickleness, its inconstancy, and its ambition, combined as these qualities are with an extraordinary tendency to defer to the opinions of individuals. Who does not see that the Catholic Church puts thereby a check on the spirit of proselytism, of which society has had so much reason to complain? Since there is in man this irresistible tendency to follow the footsteps of another, does she not confer an eminent service on humanity, by showing it a sure way of following the example of a God incarnate? Does she not thus take human liberty under her protection, and at the same time save from shipwreck those branches of knowledge which are the most necessary to individuals and to society?8

CHAPTER VI.

DIFFERENCES IN THE RELIGIOUS WANTS OF NATIONS – MATHEMATICS – MORAL SCIENCES

The progress of society, and the high degree of civilization and refinement to which modern nations have attained, will no doubt be urged against the authority which seeks to exercise jurisdiction over the mind. In this way men will attempt to justify what they call the emancipation of the human mind. For my own part, this objection seems to have so little solidity, and to be so little supported by facts, that, from the progress of society, I should, on the contrary, conclude that there is the more need of that living rule which is deemed indispensable by Catholics.