Glad to see him come to the point to which I had been drawing him on, I expressed my satisfaction, and requested him to explain what was meant by a probable opinion?[[142]]
“That,” he replied, “our authors will answer better than I can do. The generality of them, and, among others, our four-and-twenty elders, describe it thus: ‘An opinion is called probable, when it is founded upon reasons of some consideration. Hence it may sometimes happen that a single very grave doctor may render an opinion probable.’ The reason is added: ‘For a man particularly given to study would not adhere to an opinion unless he was drawn to it by a good and sufficient reason.’”
“So it would appear,” I observed, with a smile, “that a single doctor may turn consciences round about and upside down as he pleases, and yet always land them in a safe position.”
“You must not laugh at it, sir,” returned the monk; “nor need you attempt to combat the doctrine. The Jansenists tried this; but they might have saved themselves the trouble—it is too firmly established. Hear Sanchez, one of the most famous of our fathers: ‘You may doubt, perhaps, whether the authority of a single good and learned doctor renders an opinion probable. I answer, that it does; and this is confirmed by Angelus, Sylvester Navarre, Emanuel Sa, &c. It is proved thus: A probable opinion is one that has a considerable foundation. Now the authority of a learned and pious man is entitled to very great consideration; because (mark the reason), if the testimony of such a man has great influence in convincing us that such and such an event occurred, say at Rome, for example, why should it not have the same weight in the case of a question in morals?’”
“An odd comparison this,” interrupted I, “between the concerns of the world and those of conscience!”
“Have a little patience,” rejoined the monk; “Sanchez answers that in the very next sentence: ‘Nor can I assent to the qualification made here by some writers, namely, that the authority of such a doctor, though sufficient in matters of human right, is not so in those of divine right. It is of vast weight in both cases.’”
“Well, father,” said I, frankly, “I really cannot admire that rule. Who can assure me, considering the freedom your doctors claim to examine everything by reason, that what appears safe to one may seem so to all the rest? The diversity of judgments is so great”—
“You don’t understand it,” said he, interrupting me; “no doubt they are often of different sentiments, but what signifies that?—each renders his own opinion probable and safe. We all know well enough that they are far from being of the same mind; what is more, there is hardly an instance in which they ever agree. There are very few questions, indeed, in which you do not find the one saying Yes, and the other saying No. Still, in all these cases, each of the contrary opinions is probable. And hence Diana says on a certain subject: ‘Ponce and Sanchez hold opposite views of it; but, as they are both learned men, each renders his own opinion probable.’”
“But, father,” I remarked, “a person must be sadly embarrassed in choosing between them!”—“Not at all,” he rejoined; “he has only to follow the opinion which suits him best.”—“What! if the other is more probable?” “It does not signify.”—“And if the other is the safer?” “It does not signify,” repeated the monk; “this is made quite plain by Emanuel Sa, of our Society, in his Aphorisms: ‘A person may do what he considers allowable according to a probable opinion, though the contrary may be the safer one. The opinion of a single grave doctor is all that is requisite.’”
“And if an opinion be at once the less probable and the less safe, is it allowable to follow it,” I asked, “even in the way of rejecting one which we believe to be more probable and safe?”