I HAVE said enough to show that it is altogether a mistake to identify the morals, not only of the Church, but of her schools and writers, with casuistic morals. In theological works, morals are dealt with in three ways: viz., the speculative or really scientific, the ascetic-mystical, and, lastly, the casuistic manner. The last is based partly upon the judicial side of the duties imposed by the Church and partly upon the needs of the confessional. The beginnings of its former element are found in the collections of decretals of the early Middle Ages, and in the libri poenitentiales of the same period, In the latter part of the Middle Ages the mass of ethical, canonistic, and liturgical matter was gathered for the pastor of souls systematically or alphabetically in the so-called Summae casuum or Summulae confessionales. The results of scholastic investigations into the underlying principles of moral actions, virtues, etc., afterwards came to be more or less interwoven with these practical Summae, so that in the period following the Council of Trent, Theologia Moralis had become a union of scholastic principles with a great amount of casuistry. Actual morals are treated chiefly as instruction on duty, for those intrusted with the charge of souls are required to know upon what to insist as an indispensable duty, and what must be mentioned in confession because it is a grievous sin. It is obvious that in works of this kind little attention is paid to the bright side of Christian life, viz., to efforts to attain perfection.{1}
A kind of moral teaching that lays stress on the idea of duty, and allows no tampering with the fearful nature of mortal sin, cannot possibly regard lightly any question as to degree of obligation; duty is once for all the backbone of morality. In Holy Scripture we read of some sins that deprive a man of the state of grace and of his right to the kingdom of heaven, and of others to which even the friends of God are liable. This shows us at once the importance of distinguishing mortal and venial sins. The fact that they are distinguished, and that a minimum of morality is required even of the weakest of mortals, does not mean that everything else is left to one's own discretion, any more than the fact that a foundation is laid indicates that the building is completed. A physician is glad when a patient is out of danger and he can watch his recovery without any great anxiety, and in the same way a director of souls feels relief when a penitent honestly renounces grievous sin which made him unworthy of God's friendship. However carefully a priest is bound to discriminate when it is a question of giving or withholding absolution, he does not need special deliberation or advice from some theologian to decide what is better, expedient, and honourable. The border line is often difficult to see, but what lies beyond it on either side is perfectly clear. A confessor refers to books on morals, not in order to find pious exhortations on the beauty of virtue and condemnation of vice, but in order to obtain information in doubtful cases. The authors of such books would altogether fail to attain their object if they were to do what Harnack requires (p. 748), viz., "with the vigour of the prophet call down upon the burden of evil a still heavier burden of judgment." If a sinner stands in need of such admonition and of being filled with fear, a conscientious confessor will supply what is needed. These Latin books are not put into the hands of penitents, and their clerical readers are supposed to possess enough knowledge of Holy Scripture and of the doctrines of faith to enable them to utter an impressive admonition. As far as the duties of a confessor are discussed at all, it is impressed upon him very emphatically that he is to be not only a judge, but a father, physician, and teacher, and that it is his business not merely to hear confessions and give absolution, but also to awaken a horror of sin and to prescribe remedies for sin and passion.
In his "Praxis confessarii" St. Alphonsus gives instructions of this kind, full of earnestness and genuinely paternal zeal for souls. He suggests to the confessor to use earnest words of encouragement so as to awaken a true contrition that will proceed from love rather than from mere fear of God. In admonishing a penitent he is to reveal his detestation of sin and also his hearty sympathy with the sinner. As a rule a Catholic priest, especially one educated along modern lines, does not need paradigms of this sort to help him to follow the prophet's example and, according to circumstances, either to terrify the sinner or to soothe him, to rouse him, or to console him. The ascetic training that he has received as a student in the seminary, and the atmosphere in which he lives as a priest, will suggest suitable words. Moreover, as I have already pointed out, there exist in abundance works of an ascetic, mystical, and homiletic character, bearing on the positive side of morality.
Any one who overlooked this powerful tendency in Catholic teaching of morality would form a totally false idea of our moral theology. It is the oldest form of ecclesiastical moral literature; the Fathers of the Church never ceased to inculcate the practice of virtue and the performance of duty from the time when the treatise on the "Duo Viae" and the "Shepherd of Hermas" were written. In the Middle Ages mysticism flourished alongside of scholasticism, and the greatest theologians, men like St. Bernard and St. Bonaventure, discussed moral questions in a vigorous and lively manner, whilst Tauler, Suso, and Thomas à Kempis knew how to subject the innermost life of the soul to the purifying influence of the Christian idea of perfection. After the Council of Trent this side of moral teaching was by no means neglected; St. Louis of Granada, St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa, St. Ignatius, St. Francis of Sales, and many other less famous writers may be mentioned in proof of this statement. The men who in their works on casuistry discussed ethical questions with apparent indifference knew well enough how to use the language of unction and enthusiasm in their ascetic writings, and St. Alphonsus and Lessius belong to this class. There is also a very extensive homiletic literature in which what is ideal and positive is as prominent as what is negative.{2}
This kind of literature has a far more general and permanent influence. It is not intended exclusively for confessors, but appeals to Christians of every rank. Being regularly read, it has a more lasting effect upon the spiritual life than any books of reference can have; it imparts its definite moral character to the province of sentiment, that is of so much importance in our actions. "This mysticism," says Linsenmann,{3} "actually contains the Christian teaching on the subject of morals."
No one will maintain that either our higher or lower devotional literature encourages moral laxity, neglects the inner life of the soul, upholds liberty rather than duty, or dwells on particulars to the neglect of the general spirit. Every one will admit that it inculcates strict conscientiousness, stern self-discipline, a religious view of things, both great and small, and often heroic love and delight in self-sacrifice.
Some may regret that this wealth of more pleasing and helpful ethical teaching is quite distinct from works concerned with casuistry. It is, however, not a sign of poverty, but of wealth, that the desire for holiness and perfection has called into existence a distinct kind of literature in such abundance. In any case there is no excuse for our opponents if, in criticising Catholic morals, they overlook a class of works so important, so well adapted to the needs of the time, and so widely diffused.
The elimination from our handbooks on morals of all that is emotional or that appeals to the heart, and the absence of prophetic force and unction, are due, as I have already said, to the purpose that these works are intended to serve. There is, however, another historical reason, that applies also to the third method of dealing with morals, which still remains to be mentioned. Ever since the time of scholasticism, theologians have refrained from introducing into their discussions any emotional element. The method adopted by the great thinkers of the Middle Ages is not that of Plato, in whom thought and poetry meet, nor that of St. Augustine, whose thought turned into prayer, but they followed Aristotle, the sober, impassionate thinker, as the "master of those who know." Their investigations aimed simply at truth, not at moral improvement or edification, and in their opinion truth was to be found, not in the variety of phenomena, but in the everlasting truths. In ethics and psychology, as well as in the abstract questions of metaphysics, they tried to pass beyond the fluctuations of the empirical to clear and firm conceptions, and to discover their intellectual associations.
Such being the stern trend of their thought, they, like Kant at a later date, assigned greater value to sobriety and lucidity of language than to any rousing of the affections, however praiseworthy. Hence St. Thomas Aquinas speaks of the highest and the lowest things with indifference, and no expression of inward enthusiasm or indignation is to be found in his most clearly expressed thought. He remarks theoretically that in searching after truth it is detrimental to arouse the emotions, although it is expedient to do so in practising it. It does not follow that to men of this type Christianity was only a scheme of thought or the Christian life a barren syllogism. On the contrary, they believed that in their writings they ought to record not their piety so much as their intellectual labours, precisely because their lives were full of religious enthusiasm, and because the Esthetic and emotional side of Christianity was visible to all in a time when art had reached its highest development.
No one judging St. Thomas Aquinas by his learned works would think him capable of the fervour and tenderness of feeling that he displays in his eucharistic hymns and in many touching incidents of his life. Other instances show no less plainly that true scholasticism, in spite of its cold, intellectual style, was the sister, not the opponent, of mysticism. Still it is no doubt due to the influence of scholasticism upon later writers in the Church that a cold and purely intellectual method prevails in Catholic theology. Thoughts are presented plainly, there is no attempt at rhetorical persuasion or edification. Even in learned works a Protestant theologian is accustomed to give expression much more freely to his subjective feelings, and he may dislike this reserve on the part of Catholic authors. He ought not, however, to say that scholasticism, and the moral teaching of the Church subsequent to the Council of Trent which is based upon scholasticism, deal with the most terrible subjects unfeelingly. He ought to take into account the historical reasons for this peculiarity of style to which he objects. There is a good deal of evidence showing that, even at the present day, scholastic dryness contributes more than pious effusions to dearness in the discussion of moral problems.
A few words must be said regarding the scholastic and speculative treatment of morals. The great scholastics of the thirteenth century were as eminent for their ethical as for their metaphysical and dogmatic learning. St. Thomas, the greatest of them all, in the second part of his "Summa," created a system of morals that wins the admiration and respect of every serious student, so deep are its foundations, so clear and uniform is its design, so harmonious are its parts, and so exquisite are its details.{4}
This magnificent achievement as a whole has never been surpassed, and its spirit has never ceased to influence Catholic theology; but, as the means of acquiring knowledge have increased, the results attained by individual workers in separate departments of learning show a considerable advance upon St. Thomas. The philosophical spirit in which he dealt with questions of ethical principles was retained in the schools; the significance of ideas and principles was examined with infinite acumen, and whatever has appeared incontestable after these battles of thought undoubtedly possesses the strongest possible guarantee of truth. Hugo Grotius expresses his conviction that this is the case particularly with regard to morals, and extols not only the intellectual modesty of the scholastics, but their great powers of thought. "Ubi in re morali consentiunt, vix est, ut errent." {5}
With a detailed discussion of questions of principle the theologians subsequent to the Council of Trent have combined that of questions then for the first time arising on the subjects of natural law and economics. They include a great deal of canonistic and patristic matter in their special works, and deal with it in a way that displays a rare combination of logical keenness with juristic and theological training.
No one can study the great commentaries produced by the Thomists, or the ethical works of men like Suarez, Vasquez, and Molina, and carry away an impression that their views are fragmentary and unscientific; he will rather be astonished at their thoroughness and comprehensiveness. Particular cases are seen to be merely extensions of the speculative development of thought, serving to illustrate the doctrine taught or to solve practical difficulties. Hence it is not surprising that these scholars enjoyed a great reputation even outside the Church; the ethical works produced by the Jesuit Order have had considerable influence upon Protestant theologians, and for some time Suarez was preferred to Melanchthon at Protestant universities.{6} If the assailants of Catholic teaching on morals wish to learn its real nature and spirit, why do they not use these scientific statements of moral principles, which explain the connection and true value of the duties of individuals?
Is it because, in its later development, morality has abandoned its philosophical and dogmatic basis and lost itself in casuistry? No, such a mistake would have been averted by the respect shown by Catholic scholars for traditional methods, and the value that they ascribe to the philosophical foundation of theology. Moreover, in the present century there is a great revival of enthusiasm for St. Thomas. It is true that these discussions of the fundamental principles and ideas of Catholic morality do not often occur in our current compendia on the subject; but there are many works on moral philosophy and natural law that contain clear statements regarding the natural principles of morality. The larger works also on dogma, after the fashion of the mediaeval Summae, deal more or less with the practical side of revelation and include apologetic and historical discussions on some special departments of ethics. It is, therefore, by no means impossible for non-Catholics to obtain a deeper insight into the scientific groundwork and the inner spirit of Catholic moral teaching.
Whether it is a mistake or not to exclude this higher morality from books intended for the use of confessors is a question apart, and various arguments can be adduced both in support of and against the practice. As a matter of fact, in many books the casuistic element predominates to a considerable extent. What are merely extensions and lines of demarcation in the larger works to which I have referred, are presented here as the chief objects of interest, apart from the ideas suggesting and controlling them. An early writer on casuistry remarks that his aim has been to collect the fruits of others' labour, so that the reader can gather the harvest without having toiled with the scholars preceding him. We must not overlook the fact that this division is only a relative one; even the handbooks on casuistry allude briefly to the principles of morality and to the more concrete grounds for it, based on reason and Revelation. If these books do not contain special arguments in defence of these principles, and if the principles seem to an unaccustomed eye to be lost in the maze of questions on doubts, this is not because slight importance is attached to them, but because the principles themselves are taken as a matter of course by the readers of such works and by every Catholic, whereas there may easily be some obscurity as to their concrete application in cases where duties are in conflict with one another. The authors of such books knew that their readers had studied the principles and spirit of morality, both theoretically, through the channels of moral philosophy and dogma, and practically, in the course of their ascetic training and education.{7} Such authors reckon also upon oral lectures to complete their work in the case of theological students, since the lecturer must inevitably lay stress upon principles, in order to bring his aphoristic theses and illustrations into connection. Most critics, however, shut their eyes to the plain tenets -- which are stated as the rule and are to be regarded as such -- and single out certain exceptions, claiming that these are the rule, in order thus to be able to charge casuistry with being nothing but moral scepticism.
One word more regarding this "complete ethical scepticism," which is supposed to have been restored in modern casuistic morals, and indirectly also in dogma.{8} It seems as if such a charge could not seriously be brought against the Catholic Church at a time when she stands almost alone in maintaining the objective, permanent character of knowledge in logic, in morals, in ethics, and in dogma; and when she is accused on all sides of realism, of overestimating thought, and of an unhistorical, rigid view of morality and religion, just because she preserves this anti-sceptical attitude.
In discussions on moral philosophy at the present day, Catholic moral philosophers are the most decided opponents of ethical scepticism. On every point where opinions are openly in conflict, as on questions regarding duelling and divorce, any politician knows that the Catholic conception of law is unalterable. In every book on morals a number of things such as calumny, suicide, duelling, and unchastity are represented as objectively sinful under all circumstances, although modern ethics easily finds excuses for them, and even Protestant moral writers do not always display sufficient energy in condemning them.
Far from succumbing to the attacks of sceptics, Catholic morality, including that of the casuists, is firmly based upon an inward conviction of the unchanging importance and sanctity of morals. It deduces the binding character of all morality and a whole series of particular rules from the very nature of things, the inner force of ideas, originating in God yet independent even of God's freedom of choice. It attributes to every deliberate moral decision an infinite importance, affecting our eternal happiness or misery. It reveals God, the guardian of morality, as the God also of love, as our Father and Redeemer; it regards the whole moral life of man as evidence of his being the child of God and of his association with the Son of God. All these ideas have, outside the Church, either vanished altogether or have become obscured, but within her they retain their original force and life. Just because on the vital points of moral life she emphasizes her demands, and unfolds aid to improvement and perfection in so very many forms, she can allow some amount of leniency on less important matters. Because she attaches such infinite importance to real duties and leaves no ambiguity regarding their absolute character, she must be careful to scrutinize things closely before declaring them to be duties. A strong man may use his power with moderation, a weak man, aware of his weakness, is apt to overexert it. All those systems that tamper with the foundations of morality, either by ignoring the moral forces in man or by separating morality from God, are impelled to compensate for the loss of what is really the quintessence of morality by displaying great strictness in estimating the importance of individual duties, especially of those belonging to external honesty and truthfulness. And at first sight this appears to be better than the "lax moral teaching of the Jesuits." The difference is this: Catholic morality, including its casuistic form, is in its kernel vigorous, full, and complete; any defects and uncertainties that there may be are on the periphery. But modern Protestant morality gives an impression of being ideal and strict on the periphery, whilst the kernel is rotten and decaying.{9}
{1} This is acknowledged by J. Werner, a Protestant theologian, who writes as follows: "Justice requires me to say at this point that the real object of those writers on moral theology is often overlooked. . . . They have no intention of stating what is morally right and good, but of supplying the confessor with the knowledge which he requires in order to judge of the moral shortcomings of his penitents, assuming such moral shortcomings to exist" (Theol. Rundschau, 1902, p. 382).
{2} Stäudlin, Gesch. der christl. Moral seit dem Wiederaufleben der Wissensch., Gött., 1808, p. 607. "Mysticism had now (i.e., in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) a very prolific period in the Catholic Church, and developed vigorously at the same time as the moral teaching of casuists and Jesuits. It occupied a great number of authors, and some of them attained to a high degree of excellence and are numbered amongst the most intellectual writers of their time." Ziegler (Gesch. der Ethik, II, Strassb., 1886, p. 531) and Ritschl ascribe to the Protestants of the seventeenth century, until the age of Pietism, a limited intellectual ability due to their "unfamiliarity with sentiment in general and its conditions and bearing upon the spiritual life."
{3} Moraltheologie, p. 27.
{4} Cf. Gass, Gesch. der christi. Ethik., Berlin, 1881, p. 347, seq.
{5} De iure belli et pacis, Proleg., 52.
{6} Stäudlin, ut supra, pp. 257, 260; K. Werner, Suarez, Rgb., 1861, I, 284, note.
{7} Even at the present day a whole year is devoted in the seminaries of religious orders to the study of ethics before the students begin moral theology.
{8} Harnack, p. 755.
{9} Sell regards casuistry as a compromise-morality combating "the natural rigorism of conscience, which, when in a state of true contrition, is inclined to accuse itself more severely than necessary" (p. 270). We see here again how the motives and points of view of casuistry are unduly narrowed down. The fact is that casuistry is not intended to combat either rigorism or laxity, as personal tendencies; it does combat false and inaccurate thought in interpreting moral rules. We are not now concerned with the question whether rigorism -- i.e., an excessively severe manner of judging things -- is to be encouraged or resisted. A bare statement of the truth can of itself never be harmful, and it is useful to a confessor in as far as it supplies him with objective standards by which to judge, whilst at the same time it remains left to his discretion to stir or soothe the feelings of contrition in his penitent.