“It would cost you no great pains to do that,” replied the monk; “it is visibly probable already. The difficulty lies in discovering probability in the converse of opinions manifestly good; and this is a feat which none but great men can achieve. Father Bauny shines in this department. It is really delightful to see that learned casuist examining with characteristic ingenuity and subtlety, the negative and affirmative of the same question, and proving both of them to be right! Thus in the matter of priests, he says in one place: ‘No law can be made to oblige the curates to say mass every day; for such a law would unquestionably (haud dubiè) expose them to the danger of saying it sometimes in mortal sin.’ And yet in another part of the same treatise, he says, ‘that priests who have received money for saying mass every day ought to say it every day, and that they cannot excuse themselves on the ground that they are not always in a fit state for the service; because it is in their power at all times to do penance, and if they neglect this they have themselves to blame for it, and not the person who made them say mass.’ And to relieve their minds from all scruples on the subject, he thus resolves the question: ‘May a priest say mass on the same day in which he has committed a mortal sin of the worst kind, in the way of confessing himself beforehand?’ Villabolos says No, because of his impurity; but Sancius says, He may without any sin; and I hold his opinion to be safe, and one which may be followed in practice—et tuta et sequenda in praxi.”[[158]]
“Follow this opinion in practice!” cried I. “Will any priest who has fallen into such irregularities, have the assurance on the same day to approach the altar, on the mere word of Father Bauny? Is he not bound to submit to the ancient laws of the Church, which debarred from the sacrifice forever, or at least for a long time, priests who had committed sins of that description—instead of following the modern opinions of casuists, who would admit him to it on the very day that witnessed his fall?”
“You have a very short memory,” returned the monk. “Did I not inform you a little ago that, according to our fathers Cellot and Reginald, ‘in matters of morality we are to follow, not the ancient fathers, but the modern casuists?’”
“I remember it perfectly,” said I; “but we have something more here: we have the laws of the Church.”
“True,” he replied; “but this shows you do not know another capital maxim of our fathers, ‘that the laws of the Church lose their authority when they have gone into desuetude’—cum jam desuetudine abierunt—as Filiutius says.[[159]] We know the present exigencies of the Church much better than the ancients could do. Were we to be so strict in excluding priests from the altar, you can understand there would not be such a great number of masses. Now a multitude of masses brings such a revenue of glory to God and of good to souls, that I may venture to say, with Father Cellot, that there would not be too many priests, ‘though not only all men and women, were that possible, but even inanimate bodies, and even brute beasts—bruta animalia—were transformed into priests to celebrate mass.’”[[160]]
I was so astounded at the extravagance of this imagination, that I could not utter a word, and allowed him to go on with his discourse. “Enough, however, about priests; I am afraid of getting tedious: let us come to the monks. The grand difficulty with them is the obedience they owe to their superiors; now observe the palliative which our fathers apply in this case. Castro Palao[[161]] of our Society has said: ‘Beyond all dispute, a monk who has a probable opinion of his own, is not bound to obey his superior, though the opinion of the latter is the more probable. For the monk is at liberty to adopt the opinion which is more agreeable to himself—quæ sibi gratior fuerit—as Sanchez says. And though the order of his superior be just, that does not oblige you to obey him, for it is not just at all points or in every respect—non undequaquè justè præcepit—but only probably so; and consequently, you are only probably bound to obey him, and probably not bound—probabiliter obligatus, et probabiliter deobligatus.’”
“Certainly, father,” said I, “it is impossible too highly to estimate this precious fruit of the double probability.”
“It is of great use indeed,” he replied; “but we must be brief. Let me only give you the following specimen of our famous Molina in favor of monks who are expelled from their convents for irregularities. Escobar quotes him thus: ‘Molina asserts that a monk expelled from his monastery is not obliged to reform in order to get back again, and that he is no longer bound by his vow of obedience.’”
“Well, father,” cried I, “this is all very comfortable for the clergy. Your casuists, I perceive, have been very indulgent to them, and no wonder—they were legislating, so to speak, for themselves. I am afraid people of other conditions are not so liberally treated. Every one for himself in this world.”
“There you do us wrong,” returned the monk; “they could not have been kinder to themselves than we have been to them. We treat all, from the highest to the lowest, with an even-handed charity, sir. And to prove this, you tempt me to tell you our maxims for servants. In reference to this class, we have taken into consideration the difficulty they must experience, when they are men of conscience, in serving profligate masters. For if they refuse to perform all the errands in which they are employed, they lose their places; and if they yield obedience, they have their scruples. To relieve them from these, our four-and-twenty fathers have specified the services which they may render with a safe conscience; such as, ‘carrying letters and presents, opening doors and windows, helping their master to reach the window, holding the ladder which he is mounting. All this,’ say they, ‘is allowable and indifferent; it is true that, as to holding the ladder, they must be threatened, more than usually, with being punished for refusing; for it is doing an injury to the master of a house to enter it by the window.’ You perceive the judiciousness of that observation, of course?”