Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Blaise Pascal & Thomas M’Crie
Paris, February 9, 1658
SIR,
I have just received your letter; and, at the same time, there was
brought me a copy of the censure in manuscript. I find that I am as
well treated in the former as M. Arnauld is ill treated in the latter.
I am afraid there is some extravagance in both cases and that
neither of us is sufficiently well known by our judges. Sure I am
that, were we better known, M. Arnauld would merit the approval of the
Sorbonne, and I the censure of the Academy. Thus our interests are
quite at variance with each other. It is his interest to make
himself known, to vindicate his innocence; whereas it is mine to
remain in the dark, for fear of forfeiting my reputation. Prevented,
therefore, from showing my face, I must devolve on you the task of
making my acknowledgments to my illustrious admirers, while I
undertake that of furnishing you with the news of the censure.
I assure you, sir, it has filled me with astonishment. I
expected to find it condemning the most shocking heresy in the
world, but your wonder will equal mine, when informed that these
alarming preparations, when on the point of producing the grand effect
anticipated, have all ended in smoke.
To understand the whole affair in a pleasant way, only
recollect, I beseech you, the strange impressions which, for a long
time past, we have been taught to form of the Jansenists. Recall to
mind the cabals, the factions, the errors, the schisms, the
outrages, with which they have been so long charged; the manner in
which they have been denounced and vilified from the pulpit and the
press; and the degree to which this torrent of abuse, so remarkable
for its violence and duration, has swollen of late years, when they
have been openly and publicly accused of being not only heretics and
schismatics, but apostates and infidels- with "denying the mystery
of transubstantiation, and renouncing Jesus Christ and the Gospel."
After having published these startling accusations, it was
resolved to examine their writings, in order to pronounce judgement on
them. For this purpose the second letter of M. Arnauld, which was
reported to be full of the greatest errors, is selected. The examiners
appointed are his most open and avowed enemies. They employ all
their learning to discover something that they might lay hold upon,
and at length they produce one proposition of a doctrinal character,
which they exhibit for censure.
What else could any one infer from such proceedings than that this
proposition, selected under such remarkable circumstances, would
contain the essence of the blackest heresies imaginable. And yet the
proposition so entirely agrees with what is clearly and formally
expressed in the passages from the fathers quoted by M. Arnauld that I
have not met with a single individual who could comprehend the
difference between them. Still, however, it might be imagined that
there was a very great difference; for the passages from the fathers
being unquestionably Catholic, the proposition of M. Arnauld, if
heretical, must be widely opposed to them.
Such was the difficulty which the Sorbonne was expected to clear
up. All Christendom waited, with wide-opened eyes, to discover, in the
censure of these learned doctors, the point of difference which had
proved imperceptible to ordinary mortals. Meanwhile M. Arnauld gave in
his defences, placing his own proposition and the passages of the
fathers from which he had drawn it in parallel columns, so as to
make the agreement between them apparent to the most obtuse
understandings.
He shows, for example, that St. Augustine says in one passage that
"Jesus Christ points out to us, in the person of St. Peter, a
righteous man warning us by his fall to avoid presumption." He cites
another passage from the same father, in which he says "that God, in
order to show us that without grace we can do nothing, left St.
Peter without grace." He produces a third, from St. Chrysostom, who
says, "that the fall of St. Peter happened, not through any coldness
towards Jesus Christ, but because grace failed him; and that he
fell, not so much through his own negligence as through the
withdrawment of God, as a lesson to the whole Church, that without God
we can do nothing." He then gives his own accused proposition, which
is as follows: "The fathers point out to us, in the person of St.
Peter, a righteous man to whom that grace without which we can do
nothing was wanting."
In vain did people attempt to discover how it could possibly be
that M. Arnauld's expression differed from those of the fathers as
much as the truth from error and faith from heresy. For where was
the difference to be found? Could it be in these words: "that the
fathers point out to us, in the person of St. Peter, a righteous man"?
St. Augustine has said the same thing in so many words. Is it
because he says "that grace had failed him"? The same St. Augustine
who had said that "St. Peter was a righteous man," says "that he had
not had grace on that occasion." Is it, then, for his having said
"that without grace we can do nothing"? Why, is not this just what St.
Augustine says in the same place, and what St. Chrysostom had said
before him, with this difference only, that he expresses it in much
stronger language, as when he says "that his fall did not happen
through his own coldness or negligence, but through the failure of
grace, and the withdrawment of God"?
Such considerations as these kept everybody in a state of
breathless suspense to learn in what this diversity could consist,
when at length, after a great many meetings, this famous and
long-looked-for censure made its appearance. But, alas! it has sadly
baulked our expectation. Whether it be that the Molinist doctors would
not condescend so far as to enlighten us on the point, or for some
other mysterious reason, the fact is they have done nothing more
than pronounce these words: "This proposition is rash, impious,
blasphemous, accursed, and heretical!"
Would you believe it, sir, that most people, finding themselves
deceived in their expectations, have got into bad humor, and begin
to fall foul upon the censors themselves? They are drawing strange
inferences from their conduct in favour of M. Arnauld's innocence.
"What!" they are saying, "is this all that could be achieved, during
all this time, by so many doctors joining in a furious attack on one
individual? Can they find nothing in all his works worthy of
reprehension, but three lines, and these extracted, word for word,
from the greatest doctors of the Greek and Latin Churches? Is there
any author whatever whose writings, were it intended to ruin him,
would not furnish a more specious pretext for the purpose? And what
higher proof could be furnished of the orthodoxy of this illustrious
accused?
"How comes it to pass," they add, "that so many denunciations
are launched in this censure, into which they have crowded such
terms as 'poison, pestilence, horror, rashness, impiety, blasphemy,
abomination, execration, anathema, heresy'- the most dreadful epithets
that could be used against Arius, or Antichrist himself; and all to
combat an imperceptible heresy, and that, moreover, without telling as
what it is? If it be against the words of the fathers that they
inveigh in this style, where is the faith and tradition? If against M.
Arnauld's proposition, let them point out the difference between the
two; for we can see nothing but the most perfect harmony between them.
As soon as we have discovered the evil of the proposition, we shall
hold it in abhorrence; but so long as we do not see it, or rather
see nothing in the statement but the sentiments of the holy fathers,
conceived and expressed in their own terms, how can we possibly regard
it with any other feelings than those of holy veneration?"
Such is the specimen of the way in which they are giving vent to
their feelings. But these are by far too deep-thinking people. You and
I, who make no pretensions to such extraordinary penetration, may keep
ourselves quite easy about the whole affair. What! would we be wiser
than our masters? No: let us take example from them, and not undertake
what they have not ventured upon. We would be sure to get boggled in
such an attempt. Why it would be the easiest thing imaginable, to
render this censure itself heretical. Truth, we know, is so delicate
that, if we make the slightest deviation from it, we fall into
error; but this alleged error is so extremely finespun that, if we
diverge from it in the slightest degree, we fall back upon the
truth. There is positively nothing between this obnoxious
proposition and the truth but an imperceptible point. The distance
between them is so impalpable that I was in terror lest, from pure
inability to perceive it, I might, in my over-anxiety to agree with
the doctors of the Sorbonne, place myself in opposition to the doctors
of the Church. Under this apprehension, I judged it expedient to
consult one of those who, through policy, was neutral on the first
question, that from him I might learn the real state of the matter.
I have accordingly had an interview with one of the most intelligent
of that party, whom I requested to point out to me the difference
between the two things, at the same time frankly owning to him that
I could see none.
He appeared to be amused at my simplicity and replied, with a
smile: "How simple it is in you to believe that there is any
difference! Why, where could it be? Do you imagine that, if they could
have found out any discrepancy between M. Arnauld and the fathers,
they would not have boldly pointed it out and been delighted with
the opportunity of exposing it before the public, in whose eyes they
are so anxious to depreciate that gentleman?"
I could easily perceive, from these few words, that those who
had been neutral on the first question would not all prove so on the
second; but, anxious to hear his reasons, I asked: "Why, then, have
they attacked this unfortunate proposition?"
"Is it possible," he replied, "you can be ignorant of these two
things, which I thought had been known to the veriest tyro in these
matters? that, on the one hand, M. Arnauld has uniformly avoided
advancing a single tenet which is not powerfully supported by the
tradition of the Church; and that, on the other hand, his enemies have
determined, cost what it may, to cut that ground from under him;
and, accordingly, that as the writings of the former afforded no
handle to the designs of the latter, they have been obliged, in
order to satiate their revenge, to seize on some proposition, it
mattered not what, and to condemn it without telling why or wherefore.
Do not you know how the keep them in check, and annoy them so
desperately that they cannot drop the slightest word against the
principles of the fathers without being incontinently overwhelmed with
whole volumes, under the pressure of which they are forced to succumb?
So that, after a great many proofs of their weakness, they have judged
it more to the purpose, and much less troublesome, to censure than
to reply- it being a much easier matter with them to find monks than
reasons."
"Why then," said I, "if this be the case, their censure is not
worth a straw; for who will pay any regard to it, when they see it
to be without foundation, and refuted, as it no doubt will be, by
the answers given to it?"
"If you knew the temper of people," replied my friend the
doctor, "you would talk in another sort of way. Their censure,
censurable as it is, will produce nearly all its designed effect for a
time; and although, by the force of demonstration, it is certain that,
in course of time, its invalidity will be made apparent, it is equally
true that, at first, it will tell as effectually on the minds of
most people as if it had been the most righteous sentence in the
world. Let it only be cried about the streets: 'Here you have the
censure of M. Arnauld!- here you have the condemnation of the
Jansenists!' and the Jesuits will find their account in it. How few
will ever read it! How few, of them who do read, will understand it!
How few will observe that it answers no objections! How few will
take the matter to heart, or attempt to sift it to the bottom! Mark,
then, how much advantage this gives to the enemies of the
Jansenists. They are sure to make a triumph of it, though a vain
one, as usual, for some months at least- and that is a great matter
for them, they will look out afterwards for some new means of
subsistence. They live from hand to mouth, sir. It is in this way they
have contrived to maintain themselves down to the present day.
Sometimes it is by a catechism in which a child is made to condemn
their opponents; then it is by a procession, in which sufficient grace
leads the efficacious in triumph; again it is by a comedy, in which
Jansenius is represented as carried off by devils; at another time
it is by an almanac; and now it is by this censure."
"In good sooth," said I "I was on the point of finding fault
with the conduct of the Molinists; but after what you have told me,
I must say I admire their prudence and their policy. I see perfectly
well that they could not have followed a safer or more Judicious
course."
"You are right," returned he; "their safest policy has always been
to keep silent; and this led a certain learned divine to remark, 'that
the cleverest among them are those who intrigue much, speak little,
and write nothing.'
"It is on this principle that, from the commencement of the
meetings, they prudently ordained that, if M. Arnauld came into the
Sorbonne, it must be simply to explain what he believed, and not to
enter the lists of controversy with any one. The examiners, having
ventured to depart a little from this prudent arrangement, suffered
for their temerity. They found themselves rather too vigourously
refuted by his second apology.
"On the same principle, they had recourse to that rare and very
novel device of the half-hour and the sand-glass. By this means they
rid themselves of the importunity of those troublesome doctors, who
might undertake to refute all their arguments, to produce books
which might convict them of forgery, to insist on a reply, and
reduce them to the predicament of having none to give.
"It is not that they were so blind as not to see that this
encroachment on liberty, which has induced so many doctors to withdraw
from the meetings, would do no good to their censure; and that the
protest of nullity, taken on this ground by M. Arnauld before it was
concluded, would be a bad preamble for securing it a favourable
reception. They know very well that unprejudiced persons place fully
as much weight on the judgement of seventy doctors, who had nothing to
gain by defending M. Arnauld, as on that of a hundred others who had
nothing to lose by condemning him. But, upon the whole, they
considered that it would be of vast importance to have a censure,
although it should be the act of a party only in the Sorbonne, and not
of the whole body; although it should be carried with little or no
freedom of debate and obtained by a great many small manoeuvres not
exactly according to order; although it should give no explanation
of the matter in dispute; although it should not point out in what
this heresy consists, and should say as little as possible about it,
for fear of committing a mistake. This very silence is a mystery in
the eyes of the simple; and the censure will reap this singular
advantage from it, that they may defy the most critical and subtle
theologians to find in it a single weak argument.
"Keep yourself easy, then, and do not be afraid of being set
down as a heretic, though you should make use of the condemned
proposition. It is bad, I assure you, only as occurring in the
second letter of M. Arnauld. If you will not believe this statement on
my word, I refer you to M. le Moine, the most zealous of the
examiners, who, in the course of conversation with a doctor of my
acquaintance this very morning, on being asked by him where lay the
point of difference in dispute, and if one would no longer be
allowed to say what the fathers had said before him, made the
following exquisite reply: 'This proposition would be orthodox in
the mouth of any other- it is only as coming from M. Arnauld that
the Sorbonne has condemned it!' You must now be prepared to admire the
machinery of Molinism, which can produce such prodigious
overturnings in the Church- that what is Catholic in the fathers
becomes heretical in M. Arnauld- that what is heretical in the
Semi-Pelagians becomes orthodox in the writings of the Jesuits; the
ancient doctrine of St. Augustine becomes an intolerable innovation,
and new inventions, daily fabricated before our eyes, pass for the
ancient faith of the Church." So saying, he took his leave of me.
This information has satisfied my purpose. I gather from it that
this same heresy is one of an entirely new species. It is not the
sentiments of M. Arnauld that are heretical; it is only his person.
This is a personal heresy. He is not a heretic for anything he has
said or written, but simply because he is M. Arnauld. This is all they
have to say against him. Do what he may, unless he cease to be, he
will never be a good Catholic. The grace of St. Augustine will never
be the true grace, so long as he continues to defend it. It would
become so at once, were he to take it into his head to impugn it. That
would be a sure stroke, and almost the only plan for establishing
the truth and demolishing Molinism; such is the fatality attending all
the opinions which he embraces.
Let us leave them, then, to settle their own differences. These
are the disputes of theologians, not of theology. We, who are no
doctors, have nothing to do with their quarrels. Tell our friends
the news of the censure, and love me while I am, &c.