The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 90

[Footnote 95: Because, if we conceive of any essence that it is not spiritual, we can conceive of one that is more perfect, namely, that which has these two attributes; and if we conceive of one that is finite in intelligence, we can conceive of one that is superior, or has greater plenitude of being, until we reach the infinite. The very conception of being in plenitude is being that excludes the conception of the possibility of that which is greater than itself.]

From this point the way is clear and easy to verify all that theologians teach respecting the essential attributes of G.o.d. We have merely to explicate the idea of intelligent spirit possessing being in its plenitude. All that has being--that is, every kind of good and perfection that the mind can apprehend in the divine essence by means of creatures--must be attributed to G.o.d in the absolute and infinite sense. We cannot grasp plenitude of being fully under one aspect or form. We are obliged to discriminate and distinguish qualities or attributes of being in G.o.d. But this is not by the way of addition or composition of these attributes with the idea of the simple essence of G.o.d. It is by the way of identification. Thus, being is identified with the intelligible and with intelligence. All the attributes of G.o.d are identified with each other and with his being.

This is what is meant by saying that G.o.d is most simple being, _ens simplicissimum_. The pure and simple idea of being contains in itself every possible predicate: hence we can predicate nothing of it that can add to it, or combine with it, to make a composite idea greater than the idea of being in its simplicity. It comes to the same, when we say that G.o.d is most pure act, _actus purissimus_, which merely ascribes to him actual being in eternity to the utmost limit of possibility, or to the ultimate comprehensibility of the idea of being by the infinite intelligence of G.o.d.

In the first place, then, we demonstrate the unity of G.o.d. There can be but one infinite being. For the intelligible being of G.o.d is the adequate object of his intelligence. Therefore there is no other infinite, intelligible object of infinite intelligence.

G.o.d is absolutely good. For his own being is the adequate object of his volition, and the definition of good is adequate object of volition, so that being is identical with good.

G.o.d is all-powerful. For there is no intelligible idea of power, which transcends the knowledge G.o.d has of his own being as including the ability to create.

G.o.d is infinitely holy. For the intellect and the will of G.o.d terminate upon the same object, that is, upon his {526} own being, and consequently agree with each other; and the very notion of the sanct.i.ty of G.o.d is the perfect harmony of his intellect and will in infinite good.

G.o.d is immutable. For any change or progression implies a movement toward the absolute plenitude of being, and is inconsistent with the necessary and eternal possession of this plenitude.

G.o.d is infinite and eternal; above all categories of limitation, succession, time or s.p.a.ce; for this is only to say that he is most simple being, and most pure act.

G.o.d is absolute truth and beauty, for these are identical with being.

He is infinite love, for he is the infinite object of his own intelligence comprehended as the term of his own volition.

For the same reason, he is infinite beat.i.tude, since beat.i.tude simply expresses the repose and complacency of intelligence and will in their adequate object and is identical with love.

G.o.d is an ocean of boundless, unfathomable good and perfection, to whom everything must be attributed that can increase our mental conception of his infinite being. We can go on indefinitely, explicating this conception, and every proposition we can make which contains the statement of anything positive and intelligible, is self-evident; requiring no separate proof, but merely verification as truly identifying something with the idea of being. "We shall say much and yet shall want words; but the sum of our words is, HE IS ALL."

[Footnote 96] Nevertheless, our reason is not brought face to face with G.o.d by any direct intuition or vision of his intimate, personal essence. Every word, every conception, every thought expressing the most complete and vivid act of the reflective consciousness on the idea of G.o.d is derived from the creation, and gives only a speculative and enigmatical representation of the being of G.o.d itself, as mirrored in the perfections of created, contingent existences. Though we see all things by its light, the sun itself, the original source of intelligible light, is not within our rational horizon. The creation is illuminated by it with the light of intelligibility, and by this light we become spectators of the creative act of G.o.d.

[Footnote 96: Ecclus. xiiii. 99.]

The creative act is not a transient effort of power, but a durable, continuous, ever-present act, by which G.o.d is always creating the universe. The creation has its being not in itself but in G.o.d. All that we witness therefore and come in contact with, is but the radiation of light, life, truth, beauty, happiness; physical, mental, and spiritual existence; from G.o.d, the source of being. We see the architecture which proceeds from his mighty designs; we behold the infinitely varied and ever s.h.i.+fting pictures and sculptures in which he embodies his infinite idea of his own beauty. We hear the harmonies that echo his eternal blessedness; the colossal machinery of worlds plays regularly and resistlessly by the force which he communicates around us; his signs, emblems, and hieroglyphics are impressed on our senses; the perpetual affirmation of his being is always making itself heard in the depth of our reason. The perpetual influx of creative force from him is every instant giving life and existence to our body.

We breathe in it, and see by it, and move through its energy. It is every instant creating our soul. When our soul first came out of nothing into existence, it was created by a whisper of the divine word, which simultaneously gave it existence and the faculty of apprehending that whisper, by which it was made. G.o.d whispered in the soul the affirmation of his own being as the author of all existence.

This whisper is perpetual, like the creative act. It const.i.tutes our rational life and activity. By its virtue we think and are conscious.

It concurs with every intellectual act. When the soul is stillest and its contemplation of truth the most profound, then it is most distinctly heard; but it cannot be drowned by any {527} tumult or clamor. "In G.o.d we live, and move, and have our being." We float in the divine idea as in an ocean. It meets us everywhere we turn. We cannot soar above it, dive beneath it, or sail in sight of its coasts.

It is our rational element, in which our rational existence was created, in which it was made to live, and we recognize it in the same act in which we recognize our own existence. It is necessary to the original act of self-consciousness, and enters into the indestructible essence of the soul, as immortal spirit.

The Creed, therefore, when it proposes its first article to a child who is capable of a complete rational act, only brings him face to face with himself, or with the idea of his own reason. It gives him a distinct image or reflection of that idea, a sign of it, a verbal expression for it, a formula by which his reflective faculty can work it out into a distinct conception. As soon as it is fairly apprehended, he perceives its truth with a rational cert.i.tude which reposes in the intimate depths of his own consciousness. It is true that he cannot arrange and express his conceptions, or distinctly a.n.a.lyze for himself the operations of his own mind, in the manner given above. This can only be done by one who is instructed in theology. But although he is no theologian or philosopher, he has nevertheless the substance of philosophy or _sapientia_, and of theology, in his intellect; deeper, broader and more sublime than all the measurements and signs of metaphysicians can express. We have taken the child as creditive subject in this exposition, in order to exhibit the ultimate rational basis of faith in its simplest act, and, so to speak, to show its _genesis_. But we do not profess to stop with this simple act which initiates the reason in its childhood into the order of rational intelligence and faith; rather we take it as only the terminus of starting in the prosecution of a thorough investigation of the complete development which the intelligent faith unfolds in the adult and instructed reason of a Christian fully educated in theological science. Hence we have given the conception G.o.d in its scientific form, but as the scientific form of that which is certainly and indubitably apprehended in its essential substance by every mind capable of making an explicit and complete act of rational faith in G.o.d as the creator of the world. In the language of Wordsworth, "The child is father of the man." A complete rational act in a child has in it the germ of all science. He is as certain that two and two make four, as is the consummate mathematician. A complete act of faith in a child is as infallible as the faith of a theologian, and has in it the germ of all theology. He is able to say "Credo in Deum" with a perfect rational cert.i.tude; and this conclusion is the goal toward which the whole preceding argument has been tending.

But here we are met with a difficulty. The principle of faith cannot itself fall under the dominion of faith, or be cla.s.sed with the _credenda_, which we believed on the veracity of G.o.d. How then can _Credo_ govern _Deum_. The necessity for an intelligible basis for faith has been established, and this basis located in the idea of G.o.d evolved into a conception demonstrable to reason from its own const.i.tutive principles. It would therefore seem that instead of saying "I believe in G.o.d," we ought to say "I know that G.o.d is, and is the infinite truth in himself, therefore I believe," etc. only on you.

This formula does really express a process of thought contained in the act of faith, and implied in the signification of _Credo_. _Credo_ includes in itself _intelligo_. Divine faith presupposes, and incorporates into itself, human intelligence and human faith, on that side of them which is an inchoate capacity for receiving its divine, elevating influence. Hence the propriety of using the word _Credo_, leaving _intelligo_ understood but not expressed. The symbol of faith is not intended to express any object of our knowledge, {528} except as united to the object of faith. For this reason it does not discriminate in the proposition of the verity of the being of G.o.d, that which is the direct object of intelligence, but presents it under one term with those propositions concerning G.o.d which are only the indirect object of intelligence through the medium of divine revelation. When we say _Credo in Deum_, if we consider in _Deum_ only that which is demonstrable by reason concerning G.o.d, the full sense of _Credo_ is suspended, until the revelation of the superintellible [sic] s introduced in the succeeding articles. The term _Deum_ terminates _Credo_, only inasmuch as it is qualified by the succeeding terms; that is, inasmuch as we profess our belief in G.o.d as the revealer of the truths contained in the subsequent articles.

The foregoing statement applies to the use of the word _Credo_ in relation with _Deum_ in the first article of the Creed, taking _Credo_ in its strictest and most exclusive sense of belief in revealed truths which are above the sphere of natural reason. In addition to this, it can be shown that there is a secondary and subordinate reason on account of which the mental apprehension of that which is naturally intelligible in G.o.d is included under the term faith, taken in a wider and more extensive sense.

This intelligible order of truth, or natural theology, was actually communicated to mankind in the beginning, together with the primitive revelation. We are, therefore, instructed in it, by the way of faith.

The conception of G.o.d, and the words which communicate to us that conception, and enable us to grasp it, come to us through tradition, and are received by the mind before its faculties are fully developed.

We believe first, and understand afterward; and the greater part of men never actually attain to the full understanding of that which is in itself intelligible, but hold it confusedly, accepting with implicit trust in authority, many truths which the wise possess as science. Moreover, the term faith is often used to denote belief in any reality which lies in an order superior to nature and removed from the sphere of the sensible, although that reality may be demonstrable from rational principles. In a certain sense we may say that this region of truth is a common domain of faith and reason. But we have now approached that boundary line where the proper and peculiar empire of faith begins, and like Dante, left by his human guide on the coasts of the celestial world, we must endeavor under heavenly protection to ascend to this higher sphere of thought.

From Once a Week.

THE KING AND THE BISHOP.

Before Roskilde's sacred fane, (The first the land has known.) Attended by his courtier train, And decked, as on his throne, In costly raiment, glittering gay Beneath the noon-day sun; All fresh and fair, as though the day Had seen no slaughter done--

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As though the all-beholding eye Of that Omniscient Deity, Whom, turning from the downward way His heathen fathers trod, He guided by a purer ray, Hath chosen for his G.o.d-- Had seen no darker, dreader sight, Twixt yester morn and yester night,

Beheld by his approving eye, Who, now, would draw his altar nigh; Ay, fresh and fair as to his soul No taint of blood did cling, As though in heart and conscience whole, Stands Swend, the warrior-king.

On his, as on a maiden's cheek, (Though bearded and a knight,) The royal hues of Denmark speak [Footnote 97]-- The crimson and the white; But mark ye how the angry hue Keeps deepening, as he stands, And mark ye, too, the courtly crew, With lifted eyes and hands!

[Footnote 97: The Danish king, Swend, soon after his entrance into the Christian church, slew some of his "jaris" without a trial, and, on presenting himself, after the commission of this crime, at the portal of the newly-built cathedral of Roskilde, in Zealand, found it barred by the pastoral staff of the English missionary and bishop who had converted him. After receiving the rebuke given in the poem, and forbidding his attendants to molest the bishop, he returned whence he came, and shortly after, made his reappearance in the garb of a penitent, when he was received by the prelate, and, after a certain time of penance, absolved; after which they became fast friends.]

Across the portal, low and wide, A slender bar from side to side.

The bishop's staff is seen; And holding it, with reverent hands And head erect, the prelate stands, A man of stately mien.

"Go back!" he cries, and fronts the king.

Whilst clear and bold his accents ring Throughout the sacred fane-- And Echo seems their sound to bring Triumphant back again-- "Go back, nor dare, with impious tread, Into the presence pure and dread.

Thy guilty soul to bring, Impenitent--O thou, who art A murderer, though a king!"

A murmur, deepening to a roar, 'Mid those who were cl.u.s.t'ring round the door: A few disjointed but eager words-- A sudden glimmer of naked swords; And the bishop raised his longing eyes, In speechless praise, to the distant skies;

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For he thought his labor would soon be o'er.

And his bark at rest, on the peaceful sh.o.r.e; And he pictured the crown, the martyrs wear, Floating slowly down, on the voiceless air; Till he almost fancied he felt its weight On his brows--as he stood, and blessed his fate.

With a calm, sweet smile on his face, he bowed His reverend head to the raging crowd-- (Oh! the sight was fair to see!) And "Strike!" he cried, whilst they held their breath.

To hear his words; "For I fear not death For him who has died for me!"

King Swend looked up, with an angry glare, At the dauntless prelate, who braved him there, Though he deemed his hour near; And he saw, with one glance of his eagle eye.

That that beaming smile and that bearing high Were never the mask of fear!

Right against might had won the day;-- And he bade them sheathe their swords; then turned, Whilst an angry spot on his cheek still burned, From the house of G.o.d away.

Ere the hour had winged its flight, once more, Behold! there stood, at the temple door, A suppliant form, with its head bowed down.

And ashes were there, for the kingly crown; And the costly robes, which had made erewhile So gallant a show in the sunbeams' smile.

Had been cast aside, ere its glow was spent, For the sackcloth worn by the penitent!

The bishop came down the crowded nave; His smile was bright, though his face was grave, He paused at the portal, and raised his eyes.

Yet another time to those sapphire skies, But he thought not now, that the look he cast To that radiant heaven would be his last; And he thanked his Master again--but not For the martyrdom that should bless his lot; For the close to the day of life, whose sun Was to set in blood, on his rest was won: Far other than this was his theme of praise, As he murmured: "O thou, in thy works and ways As wonderful now as when Israel went Through the sea, which is Pharaoh's monument: Though I pictured death in the flas.h.i.+ng steel, And I looked for the glory it should reveal, Yet oh! if it be, as it seems to be, Thy will, that I stay to glorify thee, To add to thy jewels, one by one; Then, Father in heaven, that will be done!"

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Then on the monarch's humbled brow The kiss of peace he pressed.

And led him, as a brother, now, A little from the rest-- "Here, as is meet, thy penance do, And as thy penitence is true, So G.o.d will make it light!

Then mayst thou work with me, that thus The light that he hath given us May rise on Denmark's night!"

M. T. F.