04-24-2026, 09:49 AM
Mgr. Louis de Ségur: Short Answers to Common Objections Against Religion
ELEVENTH OBJECTION. THERE ARE MANY LEARNED MEN AND PEOPLE OF MIND WHO DO NOT BELIEVE IN RELIGION.
Answer. What is to be concluded from this, except that it is not enough to have profane learning or to possess talent, in order to be a Christian, and to receive from God the gift of faith; but that something more is required; namely, a pure and upright heart, humble, well-regulated, willing to make those sacrifices that the knowledge of truth imposes.
Now, this is just what is wanting among those learned men (and they are few) who are irreligious.
1st. Either they are indifferent and ignorant in matters of religion; absorbed in their mathematical, astronomical, physical studies, they think neither of God nor of their soul; and hence it is not surprising that they know nothing of religion. In what concerns religion they are ignorant, and their judgment on it is worth no more than that of a hodcarrier about music and painting.
There are some learned men who are more ignorant of religion than a child of ten years old, who is assiduous in learning his catechism.
2d. Or else, what happens oftener, they are haughty spirits who presume to judge God, to argue with Him as an equal, and to measure His word by the dimensions of their feeble reason. Pride is the profoundest in its malice of all the vices. Therefore, they are justly rejected as presumptuous minds, and deprived of that light which is given only to simple and humble hearts. God does not love proud rebels.
3d. Or else, what happens still oftener, and is generally accompanied by the other two vices, these learned men cherish some bad passions of which they will not rid themselves, and which they know to be incompatible with the Christian religion.
Moreover, if one will only weigh the number and value of the witnesses, the difficulty entirely disappears.
One may affirm that, for the last eighteen hundred years, among the eminent men of each century there has not been more than one in twenty who was a freethinker.
And in this trivial number one may also affirm that the majority were not steadily incredulous, but before their death took refuge in the arms of that religion which they had so often blasphemed. Such were, among others, some of the leaders of the Voltarian school of the eighteenth century, Montesquieu, Buffon, la Harpe, etc.
Voltaire himself, when illness overtook him in Paris, sent for the rector of St. Sulpice about a month before his death. The danger passed, and with the danger the fear of God, which it had inspired. But a second crisis came on: all the impious companions of the sick man hastened to his side. His physician, an eye-witness of the scene, attests that Voltaire again called for the assistance of religion, but this time in vain; the priest was not allowed to approach the dying man, who expired a prey to the most horrible despair!
D'Alembert also was anxious to confess his sins; and he was prevented, just as his master had been, by the philosophers surrounding his bedside. "If we had not been there," one of them afterwards said, "he would have played the coward just like the others!"
What moral value have these men? And what does their irreligion prove, above all if you oppose to them the enlightened faith of the most learned men, the great geniuses, the men most worthy of our veneration that have ever appeared on earth?
Their faith required of these great men, as it does of all men, disagreeable restraints and imperative duties. The evidence of the truth of Christianity alone could have compelled them to give in their adhesion to its teachings.
Not to speak of those admirable doctors of the Church, called Fathers, and who were almost the only philosophers and savants of the first fifteen centuries, such as St. Athanasius, St. Ambrose, St. Gregory the Great, St. Jerome, St. Augustine, St. Bernard, St. Thomas of Aquinas (the most extraordinary man who has ever existed, perhaps), how many illustrious names may not religion count among her children?
Roger Bacon, Copernicus, Descartes, Pascal, Malebranche, d'Aguesseau, Lamoignon, Mathew Mole, Cujas, Domat, de Maistre, de Bonald, etc., among the great philosophers, jurisconsults, and erudite of the world.
Bossuet, Fenelon, Bourdaloue, Massillon, among great orators.
Corneille, Racine, Dante, Tasso, Boileau, Chateaubriand, etc., among men of letters and poets.
And our military glories, are they not for the most part blended with religion? Was not Charlemagne a Christian? Godfrey of Bouillon, Tancred, Bayard, du Guesclin, Joan of Arc, Crillon, Vauban, Villars, Catinat, etc., did they not bend before religion their illustrious brows, bound with the laurels of a thousand victories? Henry IV., Louis XIV., were Christians. Turenne was a Christian, he had received the Holy Communion the very day of his death. The Great Condé was a Christian. And above all these, St. Louis, that real hero, that prince so perfect and so amiable, the glory alike of France and of the Church.
All know the sentiments of the great Napoleon touching Christianity. In the intoxication of power and ambition, he neglected the practical duties of religion, I admit; but he always preserved his belief in it and respect for it: "I am a Christian, a Roman Catholic," he said; "so is my son. I would be much grieved if my grandson should not be the same." . . . "The greatest service I have ever rendered to France," he also added, "is the re-establishment of the Catholic religion." "Without religion, to what would men come? They would cut one another's throats for the prettiest woman, or for the largest pear!" When he found himself alone, at St. Helena, he began to reflect on the faith of his childhood, and in his profound genius Napoleon found the Catholic faith to be both real and holy. He asked of religion its last consolations.
He sent for a Catholic priest to come to St. Helena, and attended the Mass which was celebrated in his apartments. He desired that on abstinence days no flesh-meat should be served at his table. He surprised the companions of his exile by the force with which he set forth, in conversation, the fundamental doctrines of Catholicism.
When near to death he sent away the physicians, begged to see the Abbé Vignali, his chaplain, and said to him: "I believe in God; I was born in the Catholic religion; and I wish to fulfill the duties which it imposes, and to receive the last aid that it affords us."
And the emperor confessed, received the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction. "I am happy to have fulfilled my duties," he said to General Montholon. "I wish you, at your death, the same happiness, general. I never practiced them when on the throne, because power dazzles the mind. But I have always had faith; the sound of church-bells is agreeable to my ears, and the sight of a priest affects me. I wanted to make a mystery of all this, but that is a weakness. I desire to render glory to God!"
He then gave orders himself that an altar should be erected in the next room, so that there might be an Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and the Forty Hours devotion.
Thus died Napoleon, as a Christian.
We should not be afraid of deceiving ourselves in following the example of all those great men, the number of whom, and their religious knowledge, but above all their moral worth, prevails far over those few men who have chosen to despise Christianity.
Pride, the passion for profane knowledge which absorbed them entirely, and other passions yet more degrading and headstrong, are more than sufficient reasons to explain their unbelief; while the truth of religion alone has been powerful enough to bow the necks of the others under the sacred yoke of Catholicism!
ELEVENTH OBJECTION. THERE ARE MANY LEARNED MEN AND PEOPLE OF MIND WHO DO NOT BELIEVE IN RELIGION.
Answer. What is to be concluded from this, except that it is not enough to have profane learning or to possess talent, in order to be a Christian, and to receive from God the gift of faith; but that something more is required; namely, a pure and upright heart, humble, well-regulated, willing to make those sacrifices that the knowledge of truth imposes.
Now, this is just what is wanting among those learned men (and they are few) who are irreligious.
1st. Either they are indifferent and ignorant in matters of religion; absorbed in their mathematical, astronomical, physical studies, they think neither of God nor of their soul; and hence it is not surprising that they know nothing of religion. In what concerns religion they are ignorant, and their judgment on it is worth no more than that of a hodcarrier about music and painting.
There are some learned men who are more ignorant of religion than a child of ten years old, who is assiduous in learning his catechism.
2d. Or else, what happens oftener, they are haughty spirits who presume to judge God, to argue with Him as an equal, and to measure His word by the dimensions of their feeble reason. Pride is the profoundest in its malice of all the vices. Therefore, they are justly rejected as presumptuous minds, and deprived of that light which is given only to simple and humble hearts. God does not love proud rebels.
3d. Or else, what happens still oftener, and is generally accompanied by the other two vices, these learned men cherish some bad passions of which they will not rid themselves, and which they know to be incompatible with the Christian religion.
Moreover, if one will only weigh the number and value of the witnesses, the difficulty entirely disappears.
One may affirm that, for the last eighteen hundred years, among the eminent men of each century there has not been more than one in twenty who was a freethinker.
And in this trivial number one may also affirm that the majority were not steadily incredulous, but before their death took refuge in the arms of that religion which they had so often blasphemed. Such were, among others, some of the leaders of the Voltarian school of the eighteenth century, Montesquieu, Buffon, la Harpe, etc.
Voltaire himself, when illness overtook him in Paris, sent for the rector of St. Sulpice about a month before his death. The danger passed, and with the danger the fear of God, which it had inspired. But a second crisis came on: all the impious companions of the sick man hastened to his side. His physician, an eye-witness of the scene, attests that Voltaire again called for the assistance of religion, but this time in vain; the priest was not allowed to approach the dying man, who expired a prey to the most horrible despair!
D'Alembert also was anxious to confess his sins; and he was prevented, just as his master had been, by the philosophers surrounding his bedside. "If we had not been there," one of them afterwards said, "he would have played the coward just like the others!"
What moral value have these men? And what does their irreligion prove, above all if you oppose to them the enlightened faith of the most learned men, the great geniuses, the men most worthy of our veneration that have ever appeared on earth?
Their faith required of these great men, as it does of all men, disagreeable restraints and imperative duties. The evidence of the truth of Christianity alone could have compelled them to give in their adhesion to its teachings.
Not to speak of those admirable doctors of the Church, called Fathers, and who were almost the only philosophers and savants of the first fifteen centuries, such as St. Athanasius, St. Ambrose, St. Gregory the Great, St. Jerome, St. Augustine, St. Bernard, St. Thomas of Aquinas (the most extraordinary man who has ever existed, perhaps), how many illustrious names may not religion count among her children?
Roger Bacon, Copernicus, Descartes, Pascal, Malebranche, d'Aguesseau, Lamoignon, Mathew Mole, Cujas, Domat, de Maistre, de Bonald, etc., among the great philosophers, jurisconsults, and erudite of the world.
Bossuet, Fenelon, Bourdaloue, Massillon, among great orators.
Corneille, Racine, Dante, Tasso, Boileau, Chateaubriand, etc., among men of letters and poets.
And our military glories, are they not for the most part blended with religion? Was not Charlemagne a Christian? Godfrey of Bouillon, Tancred, Bayard, du Guesclin, Joan of Arc, Crillon, Vauban, Villars, Catinat, etc., did they not bend before religion their illustrious brows, bound with the laurels of a thousand victories? Henry IV., Louis XIV., were Christians. Turenne was a Christian, he had received the Holy Communion the very day of his death. The Great Condé was a Christian. And above all these, St. Louis, that real hero, that prince so perfect and so amiable, the glory alike of France and of the Church.
All know the sentiments of the great Napoleon touching Christianity. In the intoxication of power and ambition, he neglected the practical duties of religion, I admit; but he always preserved his belief in it and respect for it: "I am a Christian, a Roman Catholic," he said; "so is my son. I would be much grieved if my grandson should not be the same." . . . "The greatest service I have ever rendered to France," he also added, "is the re-establishment of the Catholic religion." "Without religion, to what would men come? They would cut one another's throats for the prettiest woman, or for the largest pear!" When he found himself alone, at St. Helena, he began to reflect on the faith of his childhood, and in his profound genius Napoleon found the Catholic faith to be both real and holy. He asked of religion its last consolations.
He sent for a Catholic priest to come to St. Helena, and attended the Mass which was celebrated in his apartments. He desired that on abstinence days no flesh-meat should be served at his table. He surprised the companions of his exile by the force with which he set forth, in conversation, the fundamental doctrines of Catholicism.
When near to death he sent away the physicians, begged to see the Abbé Vignali, his chaplain, and said to him: "I believe in God; I was born in the Catholic religion; and I wish to fulfill the duties which it imposes, and to receive the last aid that it affords us."
And the emperor confessed, received the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction. "I am happy to have fulfilled my duties," he said to General Montholon. "I wish you, at your death, the same happiness, general. I never practiced them when on the throne, because power dazzles the mind. But I have always had faith; the sound of church-bells is agreeable to my ears, and the sight of a priest affects me. I wanted to make a mystery of all this, but that is a weakness. I desire to render glory to God!"
He then gave orders himself that an altar should be erected in the next room, so that there might be an Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and the Forty Hours devotion.
Thus died Napoleon, as a Christian.
We should not be afraid of deceiving ourselves in following the example of all those great men, the number of whom, and their religious knowledge, but above all their moral worth, prevails far over those few men who have chosen to despise Christianity.
Pride, the passion for profane knowledge which absorbed them entirely, and other passions yet more degrading and headstrong, are more than sufficient reasons to explain their unbelief; while the truth of religion alone has been powerful enough to bow the necks of the others under the sacred yoke of Catholicism!
"So let us be confident, let us not be unprepared, let us not be outflanked, let us be wise, vigilant, fighting against those who are trying to tear the faith out of our souls and morality out of our hearts, so that we may remain Catholics, remain united to the Blessed Virgin Mary, remain united to the Roman Catholic Church, remain faithful children of the Church."- Abp. Lefebvre