The Roman Index of Forbidden Books (Betten)/Section I/Chapter 10
10. Further Explanations.
A. Why an Author is Not Permitted to Defend His Book.
If an author could accompany every copy of his work that leaves the bookstore or library, he would be able to explain obscure passages and to show what meaning he wished doubtful phrases to convey to the reader. It is precisely because he cannot multiply himself that he employs printer's ink to convey his ideas to others. It must, therefore, be supposed that his words mean what he intends to say. The reader, at any rate, has no corrective. He has only the book, not the author to fall back upon. It is impossible to recur to the author when there is question of the correctness or incorrectness of a book. If the author has to be called upon to explain the meaning of his book, he should have left it unprinted.
Moreover, it is hardly credible, as Pope Benedict XIV points out, that anything an author might advance in his favor, should escape so many examiners without receiving due attention and emphasis.
The whole procedure is primarily not intended as a measure against the author, although pecuniary loss may ensue, but to protect the faithful. A condemnation is rather a warning to the would-be reader, than a punishment inflicted upon the author. It is not an act of jurisdiction. Were the author's personal views under investigation, he would be summoned personally before another tribunal and tried according to a method that would give him the amplest opportunity to defend himself.
These considerations also show that the condemnation of a book after its author's death is not unreasonable. A book remains what it is independently of its author. Nor would it change the nature of a book were the author afterwards to prove his orthodoxy to the satisfaction of the authorities, or to do penance in sackcloth and ashes, or for the rest of his mortal life consort with the Trappists. Were it morally certain, however, that almost all the copies of a book were destroyed, a prohibitory decree would fail of its purpose.
B. The Index Does Not Advertise Bad Books.
Now and then there is expressed an apprehension lest the Index, far from suppressing, rather advertises bad books and arouses a desire to read them. It is even maintained that in some cases evil-minded authors have intentionally written so as to get their books put on the Index.
Now, every prohibitory law may have the effect of increasing the inclination of men towards the prohibited thing or act. Thus a person may possibly feel a stronger appetite for meat on Friday than on any other day of the week. We have inherited this tendency from Eve, who, when tempted, saw that the forbidden fruit "was good to eat and fair to the eye and delightful to behold," and then proceeded to violate the first prohibitory law ever given. But is that a reason to do away with every prohibitory law?
Who does not see at once that the Index must prove a very poor advertising medium? Those who have it are certainly not the prospective buyers of immoral novels or of works which propagate heretical views in theology; while those who hanker after sensationalism or doubtful theology will not invest $2.25 for a book list which contains, e. g. for the year 1898, fully eight titles, four of which are German, and for 1903 fifteen, all French.
This side of the question, as we have remarked elsewhere, is also in each case carefully weighed by the Sacred Congregation, before it resolves upon a prohibition.
Even if the sale of a book should be increased by the fact of its condemnation, the Index would nevertheless achieve its main purpose, namely, to warn the faithful that the ideas advocated in the proscribed book are contrary to faith and morals. This is enough for all men of good will to enable them to shun the poison. Those who refuse to heed the warning will have to blame their own ignorance or malice if the reading of a condemned book results in spiritual hurt.
C. Index Decisions Not Omitted for Fear of Apostasies.
A book, we are reminded, often represents the opinions not only of its author, but of many of his disciples and admirers. By forbidding it and thus branding such opinions as erroneous, it is said, many influential men may become embittered and may even be driven into an attitude of open hostility.
However, the Church is in duty bound to exercise her guardianship; which she cannot do if every one is to have his own way. Nor can the Church neglect the mass of her children in order to accommodate this or that coterie or school, whose opinions are manifestly wrong.
Moreover, to be a trustworthy guide, the Church must state the truth clearly and unmistakably. The faithful are not guided by ambiguous circumlocutions, by terms that may be understood in two or perhaps more ways. Neither may she keep exclusively in the lofty heights of theory; but she must instruct with regard to the facts of everyday life. The dangers arising from books are concrete not abstract, and they must be met by concrete measures. This can be done effectively only by an energetic and unmistakable "thou shalt not," which makes men realize that they are "under authority."
No one has ever stated the truth more clearly, more unmistakably than Christ our Lord. Was it not precisely for this very fact that "many of His disciples went back and walked no more with him"? (John 6, 67.)
D. The "Good Catholic."
"I am a Catholic. I live up to my religion and go regularly to the sacraments. I have had a good Catholic education and hear a sermon every Sunday. I do not see why I should be afraid to read any book, even if it belonged to those forbidden by the Index."
You may do so; but you may fare in consequence as David fared—David who was a saint and yet committed adultery and murder. If you read a forbidden book without permission, you are as good a Catholic as one who eats meat on Friday. The object of the law of abstinence is to make sure that every Christian performs at least a certain minimum of penance. Now there are saintly persons who, in imitation of our crucified Savior, do more penance on ordinary days than the average Catholic does by abstaining from meat on twenty or more Fridays; and yet they are not exempted from the law of abstinence and would be the last to claim such an exemption.
Similarly the object of the Index is to make sure that every Christian avoids at least the worst books. By obeying its laws we declare that our standpoint is that of the Church of God. This result cannot be obtained unless the prohibition is made universal, exempting no one, no matter how pious or learned he may be. Therefore, all Christians, good and bad, priests, religious and lay people, students and professors, unless they have a dispensation, are bound by the ecclesiastical laws regarding books. By asking for a dispensation we implicitly acknowledge and approve of the official position of the Church on the subject of wicked books, and, so far as in us lies, ratify and sanction the reasons which lead to their condemnation.
You say you are a good Catholic, and therefore this law does not bind you. Are there any commandments of the Church that bind only bad Catholics?
E. A Mortal Sin.
"I am told that a transgression of the Index law is a mortal sin. Can it be true that the Church, the kindest of mothers, should load us down with such a severe obligation?"
According to the theologians, the reading of a forbidden book, or part of it, is a mortal sin. (See p. 51, Rule 1.) The selection of the books on which our souls feed is a matter of no small importance. True, the Church is the kindest of mothers; but she is also the wisest. To direct the consciences of her children and "to restrain them from the reading of bad books as front a deadly poison," is the great object of her legislation. Under the leadership of a mastermind like that of Leo XIII, the Roman authorities have labored for years in formulating the present ecclesiastical laws about books. These laws are the voice of the supreme pastor, the successor of St. Peter. Let us not spurn it like the heathen and the publican.
F. The Galileo Case.
The Roman Congregations are no more infallible than our bishops and pastors. And yet there is practically but one case, during more than three centuries, in which they are accused of having made a mistake. It is the condemnation, by both the Holy Office and the Index, of Galileo Galilei (died 1639) for defending the theory that the earth moves around its own axis and around the sun.
This teaching was according to the common belief of Catholics and Protestants, at that time, clearly opposed to Holy Scripture, which the Church was bound to vindicate. If Galileo's theory was true, the traditional interpretation of sundry Bible texts would have had to be abandoned.
The Church had weighty reasons for not allowing this. The new theory was not at all certain. Galileo himself admitted he could not establish more than a probability. Several very obvious objections he was unable to explain satisfactorily. None of the real proofs used in our days were known to him. He was told by the Jesuit Cardinal Bellarmin, if he could advance any convincing proof for his theory, the traditional interpretation of those passages would be given up. But all Galileo had to offer was an ingenious hypothesis. Had he advocated it as such with due respect for the time-honored interpretation of the Book of Books, had he not used bold, sometimes bitter and defying language, no steps would have been taken against him, who had until then been a favorite of the pope and of many dignitaries. As matters stood, "the Church could wait for the elucidation of a physical system, but she could not allow a change in the universally accepted interpretation of Scripture, before the necessity of such a change was proved." (Guggenberger, History of the Christian Era. Vol. II, pp. 456, etc.) The decree was repealed in 1757 (Cath. Encycl. under "Boscovich").
"The marvelous unanimity of the enemies of the Church in concentrating all their attacks against the Roman Congregation on the case of Galileo, is a striking negative testimony to the value of the decisions of courts which have been at work for centuries."
G. State and Protestant Book laws.
As we have already remarked, Henry VIII continued his policy of proscribing books opposed to his views long after he had constituted himself the head of the English Church. Between 1526 and 1546 there were issued by the King's authority nine catalogues of books which Englishmen were forbidden to read. Among these books were the works of the continental "reformers"; for some years the English Bible; also writings against the King's matrimonial projects.
The Protestants on the continent followed the same system. Calvin condemned a Spanish physician, who happened to come to Geneva, to be burned at the stake, because he had written a heretical book. The Protestant princes and republics had each its special book-legislation, which was made to serve not only religious but also political purposes.
After the middle of the eighteenth century, in almost all Catholic countries, the civil power usurped the monopoly of proscribing books, and practiced it in a truly despotic way. Thus in Austria 639 books were forbidden within five years. No book was allowed to be printed without previous permission, not even on forestry or cattle-raising. Bishops were severely reproved for enforcing the prohibitions of the Roman Index in their seminaries.
Napoleon I had a publisher shot, practically without trial, for issuing a work contrary to his political plans. One book was publicly burned because it contained the picture of Pius VII. To enable the authorities to control the book trade more effectively, no printing establishment was allowed to have, in Paris more than four, and in the provinces more than two, presses.
Needless to remark, the civil authorities have the right to prohibit books that seriously endanger the common welfare. If they use this right in a reasonable way, their measures are likely to bring about good and prevent evil. We all have occasional opportunities to observe this in the measures taken against immoral literature by the police or the post-office department.
H. Some Examples of Submission to the Index.
The first Roman Index, that of 1559, was considered rather severe. One of the influential men who tried hard to have its provisions softened, was Blessed Peter Canisius, the "Second Apostle of Germany." Yet the very letters he wrote to Rome for this purpose show that he scrupulously observed all the regulations, though he himself, called the "Hammer of Heretics," surely incurred little personal risk by reading forbidden books.
About 1698, a book by Archbishop Fénelon was under investigation at Rome. Fénelon was a great scholar and one of the greatest preachers of all centuries, but he was also a loyal son of the Church. He knew a condemnation of his book would mean his own condemnation in the eyes of Catholic France. His friends as well as his antagonists were eagerly awaiting Rome's decision. At last the verdict was pronounced in the most solemn way by the Pope himself, and it was a condemnation. The great archbishop was just ascending his pulpit, March 25, 1699, when his brother broke the news to him. Without a moment's hesitation he proceeded to read to his own flock the papal document and preached an eloquent sermon on the obedience every Christian owes to his superiors. We can imagine what a profound impression his words must have made. His was a truly heroic example of self-abnegation.
In 1861 there died in Munich Ernest von Lasaulx, a famous professor of the University. In his writings he had now and then been very bold, and it was rumored that the Congregation of the Index thought of censuring some of his books. Von Lasaulx knew this. A few weeks before his death he made an implicit retraction of the errors he might have involuntarily committed, which was forwarded to Rome by his friends. Even some years earlier he had declared that he had never intended to contravene the doctrine of the Church, but that he feared there were many errors in his books. "If Rome would think it advisable to put my books on the Index, I should consider the verdict perfectly just, since I firmly believe that such measures are truly in the interest of the Catholic Church in our times." Four of his books were really condemned after his death.
In July, 1906, an Italian novel, Il Santo, (The Saint) by Fogazzaro, was put on the Index. The author "submitted himself." An American edition of the book had meanwhile appeared; "but the prohibition by the Roman authorities was duly respected by the publishers of the leading Catholic papers of America, which declined to accept advertisements of the book" (Putnam.)
Under date of June 12, 1911, the Congregation of the Index proscribed three writings of Dr. Ottokar Prohászka, Bishop of Stuhlweissenburg, in Hungary, a prelate highly esteemed for his zeal and energy. The news caused great commotion, and people eagerly looked forward to some explanation from the bishop. They did not have long to wait. On June 24 appeared a pastoral letter in which the bishop declared: "Since we acknowledge the Holy See to be the supreme teaching authority and obey the decisions and directions of its central organs, I comply with my duty by submitting to the judgment of the Holy See, and respectfully heeding the directions of the supreme teacher in the present-day conflict of truth with error, withdraw my books from the market." (Cath. Fortnightly Review, Vol. 18, page 48.)