III.
A second time day-dawn called up Martin and his wig for new projects. It was a glorious morning. There was something exhilarating in that yellow flood of light which promised success. It was so cosmopolitan—that sunlight! It gave to all things such a gloss of delicate beauty. First, it just touched with gold the spires, and tallest trees and chimney-tops; then it slid down the house-side to peep in my lady's chamber; then it poured a glow all over the pavement, and made merry and warm all the little things, animate and inanimate, which but for that would have been dark and cold. Into this atmosphere of joyousness walked forth now Martin Tryterlittle to find something to do, some fellow-creature with a want unfilled.
It is surprising that any one ever begins to do any thing in this world, where every avenue to success is crowded, every necessity supplied, and every evil surrounded by a belt of antidotes; it takes immense penetration to discover where there is left any thing to be done.
"I must find a want," said he. And he turned to that dragon ever watchful of human interests—a newspaper. The wanted there were many—workers for metals, accountants for wealth, delvers for the riches of earth; but all these anticipated a certain previous training. Wanted, a teacher. "That's it," said Martin. "I think I am fitted for that." So he moved on to the field of action—the institute.
The building was easily found—a large brick pile surrounded by grass, or rather, what would have been grass had juvenile footsteps permitted. To point the searcher for knowledge to the proper entrance, its name was displayed there in conspicuous letters.
The master was not so accessible; and he sat a long time in the parlor with several other visitors, and listened to the tinkling of sundry little bells, and saw passing in the distance sundry little processions armed with books and slates, until they were all properly impressed with an idea of the extent of the establishment and the awful responsibility of conducting it. At length, slowly and with dignity, entered Mr. Pushem.
"A teacher, you want?" modestly inquired Martin.
"Yes, sir," was the laconic reply; and a little silence ensued.
"For what, sir?" again modestly asked Martin.
"Well, sir, for several things; in fact, sir, for most any thing."
So, as Martin announced himself au fait on all subjects, and the salary, without decided specification, was declared by the dignified principal to be unquestionably liberal, and the duties could not well be defined until he entered upon them; and as the only positive point was that he was to be niggard never in either time or labor, for the reason that time and labor were dust in the balance compared with the progress of immortal minds, the applicant was regularly enlisted under the banner of the Institute. He was to pay his board and lodging of course, said Mr. Pushem; and, of course, Martin did not expect to board and lodge without pay, though he had some remembrance of having done so occasionally; and so the matter was settled, and he returned home.
It took him small time to pack his bundle. His trunk had been detained a long time ago by a savage old dame for rent; and, knowing that the same gulf yawned ever for all succeeding trunks, he had never replaced it. So, packing his little bundle, I say, and leaving a kind message for his landlady with a fellow-lodger, to the purport that he would come back and pay her as soon as he could, he vanished from his old abode as effectually as if he had gone to another planet.
Loving parents tell us there is nothing so delightful as watching the daily progress of children in learning the alphabet of life. Not that villainous regiment called A B C, which merits execration as the first herald of toil and sorrow to the infantile heart, but that beautiful alphabet of rosy hues and rainbow colors, stamped on leaf, and flower, and fruit, and wave, and hill-side, and which, in conning over, the little eye learns to see, and the ear to hear; and the touch refines itself, and fragrance grows to be an idea; and the little gourmand makes its first essay in luxurious living on peaches and berries. Every little incident here is delightful. But not so pleasant is it to note the later wanderings of human beings in quest of that vague thing—a living. The traveller on the highway of life has grown weary now, and stumbles and plunges ankle-deep in all things disagreeable. He has heard the bird of promise sing so falsely, he knows how little the song is worth—he has grown sad while growing wise; and thus plodded on Martin Tryterlittle.
Some months had passed now since the roof of the institute first sheltered him; and the bread and bones and watery tea of the institute first nourished him; and the boys harassed him, and made fun of him; and twigged his wig, and put nettles in his bed in more than a metaphorical sense. His master had kept him like a toad under a harrow, (to use an inelegant but expressive phrase,) always doing, never done; the salary was yet unsettled, and the duties undefined, when one night the wig claimed a hearing.
"I am growing shabby," said the wig, "and you are no richer."
Not that these words were uttered in an audible tone, but the thought passed to Martin and was comprehended.
"You are growing shabby," sighed Martin, ruthfully gazing, "and I am no richer."
"O master mine!" quoth the wig, "do you see how you are walking on? You are growing poorer, not richer! What is to you all the glory of this concern, when you own not even a nail in the wall? You are just the stone they step on who mount up over you. What do you get for it? O master mine! you are an ass to stay!"
Martin was not inaccessible to reason; he was impressed daily more and more with the good sense of his old friend Horace.
"Et genus et virtus, nisi cum re, vilior algâ est."[168]
His rusty garments and diminished bundle told him that the wig spoke truth, and he prepared, not for a hegira, but for an official resignation. It took no long time for this, and his little hard bed in its windy corner was left empty the very next night. The boys felt that a great source of amusement had departed, and sincerely regretted his loss; and Mr. Pushem, after due astonishment at such blindness to advantages, disbursed to him the smallest possible sum as balance due, and advertised for another teacher.
O gold, gold! Slave of the dark and dirty mine! what need to record how often thou didst beckon on luckless Martin Tryterlittle, only to flit from him further than ever? What matters how he slept in back offices and front basements, dreaming of mines somewhere at the antipodes, of which he was to have such a glittering slice—or of lovely landscapes away off in the vast wilderness of which he would one day be landed proprietor?—that is, as soon as he could persuade certain people into certain projects which seemed in theory mighty attractive, but proved in practice to have no attractions whatever—suffice to say that at last, quite desponding, he invested most part of his few remaining coin in the prepayment of an attic, and seated himself sadly at its window.
"I shall never be rich," quoth he; "fame and fortune!—well, let them go." His heart threw a sigh to the other one of the trio, and the wig took it up. "I was born for love," said the wig; "the first sweet words I remember came from the rosy lips of our pretty shop-girl, What a love of a wig! I have never yet had a fair chance in life. What care those bankers and old money-scrapers for good looks? They are all gray and bald and wrinkled before their time. Put me on my own field, master, and SEE what I can do!"
Perhaps this prompted Martin to lean further out of his window, and thus give his wig the full benefit of sunlight and the chance of making acquaintances; at least he did so; and doing so, he glanced across the street to a window nearly as high as his own, and saw there—what? Why, two bright eyes looking intently at him! He drew back; for Martin was diffident with the fair sex, and being, besides, innately a gentleman, it did not occur to him to embarrass the damsel with a rude stare. So he retreated; and the bright eyes also retreated and what was worse than all, a little, plump, white hand came out and closed the shutters.
Nothing more was seen all day; but he had ample occupation in conjecturing who it could be. No toil-worn seamstress ever had such a laughing glance and such a plump little hand; no, it was evidently a maiden quite above care for the morrow. Most anxiously he awaited the following morning, when about the same hour—that is, early day—could he believe his senses?—again the shutter was opened, and the bright eyes glanced up at him as if they too remembered. The little fairy was evidently a household fairy engaged in some fairy-like duties about the chamber, and ever and anon, as these brought her near the window, she glanced up at Martin.
That any loving and lovable woman should bestow a thought on him was a leaf of paradise painted in dreams sometimes on the far-off days to come, when he should be rich and renowned; but that such bright, happy eyes should seek and rest on poor Martin Tryterlittle was hardly credible; as soon would he have expected Luna to step down from her orbit, peep into his attic, and say, "Good evening to you, Martin;" but so it was.
"It is my doing," said the wig; "all mine!"
One day was the story of the next, and the next, and several more beyond. It is surprising how much may be learned of the inhabitants of a house from its exterior. As the beatific vision lasted but a short time each morning, a long day and night was left him to study its surroundings, and in a brief space of time he read the whole plain as a book. It was a handsome mansion, and a private one. There was a sensible housekeeping mistress there; for the railings were black and the knocker bright, and the steps were clean and the housemaids tidy; even the pavements were a pattern to the neighbors. There were order and industry throughout the establishment, evidently. All this and more besides he deciphered by processes whose intricate premises laughed to scorn quadratic equations, and yet he was never tired.
Martin had done, here and there and everywhere in his lifetime, a deal more head-work than he had ever been paid for, rather by compulsion; but now he labored con amore on the loveliest subject life affords; and so far from wearying him, his wits grew brighter, his ideas received a new impetus, and, strange to say, the beneficial influence extended to his purse.
"I must have some honest occupation now," cried he; "it will never do to introduce myself as lounger in an attic window!" Yes! he really dreamed of an introduction.
"Let me see," (and he picked up his old dragon friend the newspaper;) "wants, wants—small salary, etc.; well, I will try." So he speedily bargained himself away to—no matter what, so it was honest, and went to work with a good-will.
It was pleasant, too, (strange he had never thought of it before;) it was pleasant to have a defined place among his fellow-mortals, and to feel that he could not now, as heretofore, be blown away on some windy day, and no one miss him.
Great changes are not wrought in a day. It took him some time to straighten out his line of existence and untie all the knots he had always been tying in it; to settle up scores with the past, and open accounts with the future—but it was all accomplished; and see now the life of Martin Tryterlittle.
He rose betimes, drank an elixir from those bright eyes perfectly intoxicating, and speeded to business. At eventide—where think you he spent his evenings? Why, in the back-parlor of that same handsome mansion, with little household fairy at his side, and papa smiling approval. He was no longer threadbare and shabby, and the only bit of deception about him—his wig—had been long ago confessed and forgiven.
"I'm a deal better than any hair that ever grew on any man's head," said the wig; "for if you live to be a hundred years old, I shall never be bald or gray."
"You will never be bald or gray," said Martin.
"It will never be bald or gray," laughed the little fairy.
On a certain evening about a year after this, Martin and his wig sat down for the last time to their dual converse; the next day a little lady was to be admitted, and the partnership would be a trio. Martin reclined on a sofa in his own domicil this night, and looked on a soft, bright carpet. His purse had filled up; nor was he unknown to fame—at least to a holy fame born of benevolence, which in after years lighted up many a desolated heart and hearth, and carved his name on structures where the homeless were sheltered and the hungry fed.
"Master mine," said the wig, "we mistook our track. Human life was not bestowed for the hoarding up of money—or men would have been all born with pockets; nor yet for a chase after fame. There are innate, loftier, and purer aspirations to be satisfied—the living soul craves something to love, and craves to be loved; and like sunshine to earth, that brings forth golden grain and sweet flowers, so pure love, the household sunshine, calls out wealth of thought and energy of action; and so comes fame, and so comes money!"
"Just so," said Martin; "you talk like a book!"
THE POPE AND THE COUNCIL, BY JANUS.
II.
As the reader will have seen in our previous article, it became necessary to interrogate history at some length in order to elucidate and substantiate our arguments on the two points we have already set forth, namely, the real purpose of Janus, and the orthodoxy which the authors of this work profess. We have thus prepared the way for our examination of the historical and critical parts of Janus, for which he has found so many ardent admirers who would assign him a "position in the very front rank of science."
Janus is principally hailed as a work of history, and as such, makes by no means ordinary or modest pretensions. That promiscuous array of matter presented to the reader in the third chapter, subdivided into thirty-three paragraphs with those numerous references to "original authorities," has dazzled so many eyes and overpowered so many minds, that they could not "help feeling convinced of its veracity." He has been held up as a "thorough Catholic" and a "learned canonist," and whether or not by any legitimate and scientific criterion Janus merits these encomiums, the reader can infer from the unexceptionable authorities we have advanced.
We now ask the simple question, Has Janus shown himself to be "a faithful and discriminating historian"? Having already appealed to the verdict of history on points of the very first importance, we may confine ourselves exclusively to the historical merits of Janus's work. It cannot be expected that, within the space allowed to such an examination, we can touch upon every point; yet we trust to be able to make such selections as will be sufficient to clear up the most important historical questions upon which Janus himself lays most stress. The following extract gives the key to the historical edifice of Janus:
"In this book the first attempt has been made to give a history of the hypothesis of papal infallibility, from its first beginnings to the end of the sixteenth century, when it appears in its complete form." (P. 24.)
To take away all historical basis from "ultramontanism," the authors go over the whole field of ecclesiastical history, and particularly the lives, both private and public, of the popes, together with their acts of administration, whether referring to the religious or civil government; in short, any thing and every thing is gathered "to bring forward a very dark side of the history of the papacy." The authors pledge themselves to oppose what they term the "ultramontane scheme," to which they will never submit, and hence their appeal to history, which should show that, since the ninth century, the constitution of the church has undergone a transformation neither sound nor natural, because in contradiction with that of the "ancient church." But the question which naturally suggests itself is, Who is responsible for this movement in the church, "preparing, like an advancing flood-tide, to take possession of its whole organic life"? A "powerful party which, in ignorance of past history or by deliberately falsifying it," is now about to complete its system and surround itself with an "impregnable bulwark," by the doctrine of infallibility. To ward off so fatal a catastrophe, Janus enters this protest, based on history.
"Only when a universal conflagration of libraries had destroyed all historical documents, when easterns and westerns knew no more of their own early history than the Maories in New Zealand know of theirs now, and when, by a miracle, great nations had abjured their whole intellectual character and habits of thought, then, and not till then, would such a submission be possible." (P. 26.)
We have thus fairly stated the whole issue. True enough, the ultramontanes were not wise when they did not give over to the flames all libraries, with the exception of the Isidorian decretals, as the Mohammedans are known to have done with the library of Alexandria. Yet we are happy to say that such an expedient measure has not been resorted to, being thereby enabled to trace the truth or falsehood of this "mighty programme" of ultramontanism which Janus is pleased to honor with the name of "Papalism."
We can easily dispense with the alleged historical misconceptions of the middle ages, and draw upon the very same historical documents with which Janus so confidently proclaims his victory. Attention has already been directed to the peculiar mode of warfare pursued by Janus, namely, to its purely negative and destructive character. The third chapter bears the title of "Papal Infallibility," (pp. 31-346,) and hence we are led to expect a clear, authentic, and fair exposition of the doctrine in question, and then all other arguments which, either from scripture and patristic authority or from history, could be brought to bear against such a doctrine. No reasonable man, much less a theologian, could object to such a mode of proceeding. The authors of Janus, wishing to cede to none in their loyal devotion to Catholic truth, could make ample use of that liberty of scientific discussion and historical investigation for or against the question of infallibility, and no charge of "radical aversion," as they seemed to apprehend, could be brought against their work.
Since Janus openly avows his purpose of disproving the doctrine of infallibility, why does he not give such an explanation of it as is taught by its most able and acknowledged defenders? What right has he to produce a version of it to suit his own fancy? Why bring up arguments militating, indeed, against his own theory, but in nowise conclusive against the doctrine as laid down by its own exponents? That it may not appear as if we made unfounded charges against Janus, we will subjoin his own definition and development of the doctrine he sees fit to attack:
"When we speak of the church, we mean the pope, says the Jesuit Gretser. Taken by itself as the community of believers, clergy and bishops, the church, according to Cardinal Cajetan, is the slave of the pope." (P. 31.)
Apparently, our authors would make this the ultramontanist tenet: henceforward the "l'église c'est moi" would be the genuine expression of papal infallibility. We know of no theologian who sustains any such thesis as the above, and we had expected a reference to the authorities quoted; but none is given, and we little heed the utterances attributed to them. Nothing, indeed, is easier than to place a question in a false point of view, either by exaggeration or misrepresentation, in order to make it appear ludicrous and absurd.
"It is a fundamental principle of the ultramontane view that, when we speak of the church, its rights and its action, we always mean the pope, and the pope only." (P. 31.)
There is no treatise on the church in which any such definition is to be found, or any author who declares the pope alone to be the church, in any possible sense or conception. Janus delights to cite Bellarmine as one of such ultramontane view. Now, we confidently assert that nowhere in his elaborate treatises on the Roman Pontiff or the Church Militant any similar definition to the one alleged can be found. Who is there who does not know that clear and concise notion given by Bellarmine, in which he has been followed by all standard works? For he says,
"Nostra autem sententia est, Ecclesiam unam et veram esse cœtum hominum ejusdem Christianæ fidei professione, et eorundem sacramentorum communione colligatum sub regimine legitumorum pastorum ac præcipue unius Christi in terris Vicarii Romani Pontificis."[169]
"Our doctrine is, that the one true church is that society of men which is bound together by the profession of the same Christian faith under the government of their lawful pastors, and especially of one vicar of Christ on the earth, the Roman pontiff."
The following passages would exhibit the ultramontane doctrine of infallibility and its consequences:
"God has gone to sleep, because in his place his ever-wakeful and infallible vicar on earth rules, as lord of the world, and dispenser of grace and punishment." (P. 32.)
"The inevitable result of the principle would speedily bring us to this point, that the essence of infallibility consists in the pope's signature to a decree hastily drawn up by a congregation or a single theologian." (Preface, xxv.)
"Rome is an ecclesiastical address and inquiry-office, or rather, a standing oracle, which can give at once an infallible solution of every doubt, speculative and practical.... With ultramontanes, the authority of Rome, and the typical example of Roman morals and customs, are the embodiment of the moral and ecclesiastical law." (P. 35.)
"What is called Catholicity can only be attained in the eyes of the court of Rome, by every one translating himself and his ideas, on every subject that has any connection with religion, into Italian." (P. 37.)
"Infallibility is a principle which will extend its dominion over men's minds more and more, till it has coerced them into subjection to every papal pronouncement in matters of religion, morals, politics, and social science."
"Every pope, however ignorant of theology, will be free to make what use he likes of his power of dogmatic creativeness, and to erect his own thoughts into the common belief, binding on the whole church." (P. 39.)
"A papal decision, itself the result of a direct divine inspiration."
"Every other authority will pale beside the living oracle of the Tiber, which speaks with plenary inspiration."
"What use in tedious investigation of Scripture, what use in wasting time on the difficult study of tradition, which requires so many kinds of preliminary knowledge, when a single utterance of the infallible pope ... and a telegraphic message becomes an axiom and article of faith?" (P. 40.)
"And how will it be in the future?" asks Janus; "the rabbis say, on every apostrophe in the Bible hang whole mountains of hidden sense, and this will apply equally to papal bulls." (P. 41.)
We have been rather copious in our extracts from Janus in order to give him a fair hearing. The question which first presents itself to a candid mind is, Has Janus given a just and authentic explanation of the doctrine of infallibility? We answer most emphatically, No! Never has a doctrine been more unfairly represented than this "ultramontane" one by our authors. No one will choose to call it fair and equitable to disfigure and distort in divers ways the doctrine of an opponent, how much soever it may be against our own convictions. Those who make parade of their "scientific criticism" can least resort to such tactics with a view to seek popularity and win the smiles of the uninformed and ignorant among their readers, as the authors of Janus have done. Who would fain recognize this doctrine under the colors and shades of this portrait sketched by Janus? Bellarmine is the great champion of infallibility. (P. 318.) Yet, nowhere does this eminent divine teach that a papal decision is the result of divine inspiration, nor does he attribute to the pope any power of dogmatic creativeness—much less that he can erect his own thoughts into universal belief binding the church. "The sovereign pontiff," says Bellarmine,[170] "when he teaches the universal church, cannot err either in his decrees of faith or in moral precepts which are binding on the whole church, and in such things as are necessary to salvation and in themselves, that is, essentially good or evil." Another authority well known has the following clear exposé of this question: "The subject-matter of such irreformable judgments of the sovereign pontiff is limited to questions of dogmatic and moral import. We distinguish a two-fold character in the pope, namely, considering him as a private individual or doctor privatus, and by virtue of his office as chief pastor and as the universal doctor and teacher of all the faithful, appointed by Christ. The pope is considered as universal teacher when, using his public authority as the supreme guide of the church, (supremus ecclesiæ magister,) he proposes something to the whole church, obliging all the faithful under anathema, or pain of heresy, to believe the article thus proposed with internal assent and divine faith. The pope when teaching under these conditions is said to speak ex cathedra. We do not here speak of the pope as an individual teacher, (doctor privatus,) since every one agrees on this, that the pope, just as well as other men, is liable to err, and his judgment may be reversed."[171]
Now, Janus does away with this distinction by comparing it to "wooden iron" invented merely as an expedient hypothesis, whereas all theologians of repute agree on this difference, as well as on the essential conditions of the ex cathedra decisions. If there be some difficulties and minor differences among theologians on papal decrees, this by no means affects the value of this important and necessary distinction itself. Even the decrees of an œcumenical council may give rise to similar differences among theologians. It is nothing less than a falsehood on the part of Janus that the cause of this inerrancy claimed for the pope as universal teacher is due to direct divine and plenary inspiration. All theologians are unanimous in asserting merely a divine assistance to guard against error, just as the church herself is divinely guided by the Holy Spirit, promised by Christ to reside with her for ever. There cannot be any necessity for substituting inspiration or a new revelation, since the infallible magisterium in the church is exercised in the two-fold duty of teaching and preserving all those truths which she has received as a sacred deposit from her divine Founder. Moreover, it is supposed that the pope when issuing such decrees to the universal church, binding all the faithful, proceeds with that caution and prudence which such weighty acts demand, that he has full liberty to assure himself of all human counsel and human means to find the true and genuine sense of Scripture and tradition. Alluding, therefore, to ignorant popes making use of their power of dogmatic creativeness and erecting their "own thoughts" into dogmas of faith, is an appeal to prejudice and commonplace mockery wholly unworthy of writers who would be admired for their calm and dignified scientific labors. Other opponents of papal infallibility have never gainsaid that at least this doctrine has always found many and able adherents, who have advanced strong arguments claiming the serious consideration of every theologian and thinking Christian, and therefore recommended by most respectable authority. But Janus comes forward to stamp this "ultramontane doctrine" with the stigma of absurdity and ridicule, and declares its advocates to be miserable sycophants, devoid of all learning or honesty of intention. (P. 320.)
The references we have given exhibit the doctrine of infallibility in such colors as scarcely to be recognized, and all advocates of the doctrine will repudiate such an unfair and arbitrary statement. The cunning insinuation that infallibility invests the popes with personal sanctity and integrity of morals, is no less captious and shallow. To what purpose those tirades on the private lives of the popes, or the extravagances of the Curia, and the administrative measures of the civil government, etc.? The supposition as though the whole church, that is, all the faithful, would have to accept falsehood for truth, vice for virtue, is a play of Janus's imagination. For those who uphold papal infallibility exclude the possibility of such an issue on account of the intimate union necessarily existing between the church and its spiritual head. According to the promises of Christ, that union—eminently one of faith—will never be severed, since Christ himself commanded this obedience of the flock to Peter and his successors. It cannot for a moment be supposed that the wise Lord of his vineyard sanctioned an obligation to accept falsehood for truth, or vice for virtue. The infallible magisterium of the church would be fatally compromised if the faithful were commanded by lawful authority to give interior assent to a false doctrine. So much for the intrinsic falsehood of the hypothesis of Janus. Yet he attempts to surround it with an authoritative garb by citing Bellarmine as maintaining "that if the pope were to err by prescribing sins and forbidding virtues, the church would be bound to consider sins good and virtues evil, unless she chose to sin against conscience." (P. 318.)
Who does not at once see this terrible alternative by which Janus triumphantly proves from the author quoted "that whatever doctrine it pleases the pope to prescribe, the church must receive"? Having the work of Bellarmine before our eyes, with the above passage in the context, we were greatly amazed, to say the least, to see how the entire proposition conveys just the very opposite meaning of what Janus would induce his readers to believe. Here is the argument in question:
"The pope cannot err in teaching doctrines of faith, nor is he liable to err in giving moral precepts binding the whole church in matters of essential good and evil. For if this were the case, that is, if the pope erred in matters of essential good or evil, he would necessarily err also in faith; for Catholic faith teaches that every virtue is good and every vice evil. Now, if the pope erred by commanding vices or prohibiting virtues, the church would be bound to believe vices good and virtues evil, unless she chose to sin against conscience."[172]
Bellarmine's meaning evidently is that such an issue becomes impossible. This reductio ad absurdum, or showing to what contradiction a denial of his thesis would lead, has been exhibited by our authors as a bona fide tenet of Bellarmine! The passage itself is partly transcribed with minute reference, so that it is beyond the courtesy of even a mild critique to exonerate Janus from the charge of deliberate dishonesty in this instance.
Hitherto we have confined ourselves to a critical examination of a doctrine against which Janus directs his assaults. In the first place, we submitted his version of the same, and afterward the authentic explanation by those whom our authors acknowledge to be its most able exponents. The inevitable conclusion which forces itself on every mind is, that Janus has developed the doctrine of infallibility to suit his own fancy, and consequently the arguments he brings forward, supposing them true for discussion's sake, would indeed undermine the position assumed by himself, but in no way affect the genuine one propounded by his opponents. In order to make good his arguments from church history and canonical sources against the stand-point taken by the acknowledged advocates of infallibility, these three conditions must be verified, 1st. That the pope acted in his capacity of universal teacher, using his public authority as supreme head of the church; 2d. That his judgments appertain to matters of doctrinal belief and moral law necessary to salvation. 3d. That he proposes such things to the faithful, under pain of heresy, to be believed with interior assent as of divine faith, that is, a revealed truth. There is the simple issue between Janus and his adversaries. Has he advanced one single decree of any pope, invested with these essential conditions, obliging to believe falsehood and heresy or commanding to commit an evil and absolutely vicious action under the name of virtue? We doubt whether any candid and discriminating historian will maintain that Janus has accomplished any such task. However, that the reader may not suspect us of narrowing the domain of papal infallibility, we will quote a passage from an able and warm adherent of this doctrine, whose writings are well known as by no means liable to any suspicion of under-statement:
"In the case of any given document, we have to consider, from the context and circumstances, which portion of it expresses such doctrine; for many statements, even doctrinal, may be introduced, not as authoritative determinations, but in the way of argument and illustration. Many papal pronouncements, though they may introduce doctrinal reasons, yet are not doctrinal pronouncements at all, but disciplinary enactments; the pope's immediate end in issuing them is, not that certain things may be believed, but that certain things may be done. If the doctrinal reasons, even for a doctrinal declaration, are not infallible, much less can infallibility be claimed for the doctrinal reasons of a disciplinarian enactment. Then again, the pope may give some doctrinal decision as head of the church, and yet not as universal teacher. Some individual may ask at his hands, and receive, practical direction on the doctrine to be followed in a particular case, while yet the pope has no thought whatever of determining the question for the whole church and for all time. Much less, as Benedict XIV. remarks, does the fact of his acting officially on some moral opinion fix on it the seal of infallibility as certainly true. Nor, lastly, can any conclusive inference be drawn in favor of some doctrinal practice, from the fact of its not having been censured or prohibited. The pontiff of the day, whether from intellectual or moral defect, may even omit censures and prohibitions which are greatly desirable in the church's interest, or enact laws of an unwise and prejudicial character."[173]
As we have already insinuated, Janus makes this infallibility extend to the private conduct of the popes, to their particular sayings and to all other things which were merely preliminary steps to their official measures. Now, it is certain, as is frequently urged by ultramontanes, that the pope, in becoming pope, does not cease to be a man, and to have his own private opinions, and not being infallible in these, by the very force of terms, they may be erroneous.
What we might thus far have conceded to Janus without great injury to the doctrine he opposes, we now proceed to question, and examine this "history of the hypothesis of papal infallibility, from its first beginnings to the end of the sixteenth century." He has indeed resuscitated weighty questions, and not unfrequently antiquated difficulties which we could point out from works printed for three hundred years and more. In order to be brief and clear, we shall begin with the alleged "forgeries" upon which Janus insists throughout his book, and thereafter interrogate history as to the many "papal errors," usurpations, and encroachments.
Note.—The terms "faith," "heresy," and "under anathema," in the foregoing article, must be understood in their general and not their restricted sense. That is to say, whenever the pope declares or defines any thing which is to be believed with absolute interior assent, this is to be considered as belonging to faith, whether it be technically a proposition de fide, or one which is only virtually and implicitly contained in a dogma. So, also, when he condemns an opinion which is indirectly and virtually contrary to a dogma of faith, this condemnation is of equal authority with the condemnation of an opinion technically called heretical. The anathema need not be formally expressed, or a special censure annexed, if it is made manifest that all Catholics are forbidden to hold the opinion condemned under pain of grievous sin. The monition of the Council of the Vatican at the end of the decree on Catholic faith expressly enjoins on all Catholics the duty of rejecting not only all heresies, that is, opinions in point-blank contradiction to the dogmas of Catholic faith, but all errors approaching more or less to heresy which are condemned by the holy see.—Editor of Catholic World.