It must now be obvious to the attentive reader why most of the books put on the Index are works on theology, or on the history and government of the Church, and [17] ]why (as may be expected in the case of such publications), a considerable percentage are written in Latin. However, a goodly number of books are on the Index because they are detrimental to good morals. There are very few there which treat of the natural sciences. The Index will not busy itself with publications on electricity or X-rays, unless an author on a subject of this sort devote a considerable part of his work to attacks upon religion.
There are some well-meaning people who, while agreeing that the productions of Zola, Dumas and other writers of the same sort, fully deserve condemnation, cannot understand why works like Ranke’s History of the Popes, which is an acknowledged authority in its line, should be proscribed. Such works are not on the Index for the good things they contain, but for the poison they mix with the wholesome food so cleverly that it takes more than ordinary scholarship and discretion to separate the one from the other.
The Roman Committee of Cardinals, which has charge of this part of ecclesiastical [18] ]discipline, is not at all bent on proscribing books. Works like the one mentioned are never put on the Index unless it is quite clear that the mischief to be feared from them will far outweigh the good they may do. Scholars and students well grounded in their faith, who have a real and legitimate cause for reading a forbidden book can easily obtain a dispensation.
It is clear from the preceding explanations that a book may sometimes be dropped from the Index. This is done when a book has long ceased to be dangerous, or a cause of dissension, or if it has fallen into oblivion. Thus Pope Leo XIII caused to be expunged about a thousand titles. This does not imply a reproach for the authorities of former centuries, much less the giving up of an iota of the old principles.
6. Duties Imposed by Law and by Nature.
Suppose a person were so well grounded in faith and virtue, so thoroughly versed in theology, philosophy, and the natural sciences, that the reading of books e. g. [19] ]on Christian Science, or the works of Voltaire, would not harm him. The Index prohibits these books; would he whom they could not harm be allowed to read them? As we put the case, he would, by reading them, not commit the sin of seriously endangering his soul. Yet he would sin by disregarding a positive law of the Church. These laws are like the precautionary measures taken by the civil authorities in times of epidemic; if they are to have the desired effect, they must be observed by all. When the community is under quarantine, those who declare themselves free from the disease must observe the regulations as well as the rest.
Let those who think they have a good reason for reading a forbidden book, and who are not mistaken in supposing that there is no danger for them, humbly ask for permission, as did the Saints. By doing so they declare that the standpoint of the Church is theirs, and that they willingly submit to a power which was entrusted with the care of “teaching to observe whatsoever I have commanded you.” “We [20] ]have to develop a loving habit of loyalty and obedience to the Church as to Christ, our Savior.”
Suppose, on the other hand, there were no Church laws prohibiting pernicious reading. In that case should we be allowed to read any book we pleased? By no means. We should then, it is true, by reading, e. g., Zola’s novels, not commit an act of disobedience to the Church. But, as already hinted, there is another duty imposed on us by God Himself—the grave duty to guard our soul from serious danger. This duty does not depend on any positive law or decree of authority, and it equally binds the Christian and the non-Christian. It is expressed in the fifth commandment: “Thou shalt not kill.” This duty corresponds on our part to what we ask of God in the sixth petition of the Our Father: “Lead us not into temptation.” We should undoubtedly violate it by reading Zola’s filthy works. The prohibition of these works by the Church merely adds another obligation to that imposed by the natural law, thereby considerably strengthening [21] ]our will and enabling us to resist every enticement to read what can be read only at a serious risk to our soul.
This grave duty, therefore, is not imposed by the Church and cannot be taken away by the Church. It is a natural duty and as such remains in force even after we are granted a formal permission, which is neither intended nor able to suppress temptations that may arise from the perusal of bad books. If we have a good reason to apply for permission—curiosity is not a good reason—then and then only can we expect a special protection from Divine Providence. Of course, this protection does not dispense us from the necessity of using all the means of self-protection, both natural and supernatural.
I know of a priest who was in every way a model man. He fell suddenly away from the Church, married, and is now a foremost champion in the ranks of the enemy. His apostasy is, not without reason, attributed to the reading of infidel books, though no doubt he had the necessary dispensation.