Now, in reply to all this, I think I may remark that even lay theologians know, or ought to know, that Papal Bulls are divided into two distinct classes—dogmatic and disciplinary. The first, according to the doctrine of the Catholic Church, are held to be infallible, but still only as regards the decisions on faith or morals therein laid down, and not in respect of the reasons alleged; the second stand in a totally different position, and are not considered, as a general rule, to be in any way infallible—in fact, they are liable at any time to be modified or recalled, as in the instance before us has actually happened. The Bull “Speculatores” is plainly a disciplinary one. But I may perhaps be allowed to quote one who is professedly a theologian—the Reverend Jeremiah Murphy, an Irish ecclesiastic of learning and ability—who, replying to Mr. Mivart in The Nineteenth Century of May, 1886, explains, at some length, the real nature of this Bull. He says: “This Bull, so far from being a special approbation of each decree contained in the Index to which it is prefixed, is not a special approbation of even one of them.... It is a re-issue, by public authority, of all these decrees (those of the Index), but it leaves each decree just as it was.... The Pope, after referring to the origin of the Index, says that at that time there was no catalogue, issued by public authority, embracing the prohibited books and condemned authors, on which account great confusion has arisen. Accordingly, with the advice of the Cardinals, the Pope, as he states, has decreed to issue a new Index. This was done in order that people should ‘have a clear knowledge of all that was done from the beginning in this matter,’ also to facilitate references for readers and especially for booksellers. The Pope goes on to say that he ‘confirmed and approved this same general Index as aforesaid, composed and revised by our order, and printed at our apostolic press.’”
Mr. Murphy adds: “No new decree is issued, no new obligation imposed, no change in the character of any of the decrees is made by this Bull.... No Catholic theologian would for a moment regard this Bull as equivalent to an approbation, by special mandate, of any decree contained in the volume to which it is prefixed.... The Bull is a purely disciplinary act, perfectly valid until it is cancelled by an authority equal to that which issued it, but it condemns no new error, and defines no new truth.”
It may no doubt be urged that there have been certain indiscreet controversialists who have maintained that the Popes had nothing to do with the condemnation of Galileo or of the Copernican theory—that, in fact, it was all the work of the Cardinals.
The Bull “Speculatores” is a good argumentum ad hominem addressed to such persons, but no one who knows the facts of the case can take up or ought to take up such a position. As a matter of discipline, the Popes did give their sanction to the condemnation in question. The Congregations of the Index and of the Inquisition have no authority at all except so far as the Pope confers it on them; and whether he gives them the authority beforehand, or confirms their acts by subsequent approval, the principle is essentially the same. He delegates to them certain disciplinary powers, but he does not delegate, and has not the power to delegate, his prerogative of defining dogma, and enforcing its belief on the whole Catholic world.
I should not have dwelt at so much length on this particular point had it not been urged, with what I fear I must call much perverted ingenuity, by Mr. Roberts that the Copernican theory was condemned ex cathedrâ, as if it were a heresy, by the Pope himself; nor, again, is it willingly that I quote so frequently the same author’s arguments with a view to their refutation. He has, however, stated the anti-Roman case with ability, and without descending to vulgar claptrap. If, then, his arguments are satisfactorily answered, there is no need of combating other antagonists.
But I do not at all shrink from considering another and most important question. I have shown clearly and conclusively that the decrees against Copernicanism were not definitions of faith; but I am bound to state now what I believe to have been the effect of them in their own undoubted sphere, that of ecclesiastical discipline. And here there are two distinct questions to deal with, which are perhaps sometimes mixed up together, but which ought to be kept separate.
One is this: What should have been the conduct of contemporary Catholics, supposed to be scientific men, during the period that the decrees were in force? The other: What opinion ought we now to form upon the whole transaction, viewing it retrospectively?
To begin with the first of these two. I have little doubt as to what ought to have been the conduct of such Catholics—viz., implicit obedience to the disciplinary rules of the Church so long as the superior authorities thought fit to enforce them. Thus no good Catholic could have read the forbidden books, whether by Galileo or by any other author, without obtaining the requisite permission—a permission which in these days, at any rate, is given with great readiness to well-educated persons. Still less could a conscientious Catholic publish a work advocating the Copernican theory as the true one, or as most probably the true one. What I think he might have done is to publish a treatise stating any purely astronomical or mathematical arguments which seemed to favour Copernicanism as a hypothesis, and, at the same time, professing his entire submission to the ecclesiastical authorities, and explicitly disclaiming any attempt to meddle with the interpretation of Scripture. A protest of some such nature as this was inserted in an edition of the “Principia” which was allowed to be published by two Fathers of the order of Minims, Le Seur and Jacquier, in the year 1742, when the decrees were still in force.
But the first step, and that the most fitting and becoming, would have been to submit privately to the Roman authorities all the scientific arguments which the Catholic astronomer—supposing such to be the case—had discovered as throwing fresh light on the question. No one has a right to infer from the instance of Galileo, whose arguments were not all of them sound or convincing, that such an astronomer as I have imagined would have been treated with contempt or neglect, especially if he made it evident that he was wholly submissive to the decrees of the Index, or other Roman Congregations.
Some writers, and notably the late Dr. Ward, have maintained that besides outward submission, a certain “interior assent” was due to the decision of the Congregation of the Index—such assent, however, being different in kind from that given to an article of Faith.