European civilization : Protestantism and Catholicity compared in their effects on the civilization of Europe

European Civilization.

Protestantism and Catholicity

COMPARED IN THEIR EFFECTS ON THE CIVILIZATION OF EUKOPE.

BY REV. J. BALMES.

JOHN MURPHY COMPANY,

PUBLISHERS.
BALTIMORE, MD. : NEW YORK,

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

AMCNG the many and important evils which have been the necessary
:esult of the profound revolutions of modern times, there appears a good
extremely valuable to science, and which will probably have a beneficial
influence on the human race, — I mean the love of studies having for
.heir object man and society. The shocks have been so rude, that the
3arth has, as it ~vere, opened under our feet; and the human mind,
which, full of pride and haughtiness, but lately advanced on a triumphal
car amid acclamations and cries of victory, has been alarmed and
stopped in its career. Absorbed by an important thought, overcome by
a profound reflection, it has asked itself, "What am I? whence do I
come? what is my destination?" Religious questions have regained
thei: hi^h importance; and when they might have been supposed t-j
have oeen scattered by the breath of indifference, or almost annihilated
by the astonishing development of material interests, by the progress of
the natural and exact sciences, by the continually increasing ardour of
political debates, — we have seen that, so far from having been stifled by
the immense weight which seemed to have overwhelmed them, they have
reappeared on a sudden in all their magnitude, in their gigantic form,
predominant over society, and reaching from the heavens to the abyss.

This disposition of men's minds naturally drew their attention to the
religious revolution of the sixteenth century; it was natural that they
should ask what this revolution had done to promote the interests o" hu
manity. Unhappily, great mistakes have been made in this inquiry.
Either because they have looked at the facts through the distorted me
dium of sectarian prejudice, or because they have only considered them
superficially, men have arrived at the conclusion, that the reformers
of the sixteenth century conferred a signal benefit on the nations of
Europe, by contributing to the development of science, of the arts, of
f.uman liberty, and of every thing which is comprised in the word
civilization

What do history and philosophy say on this subject? How has man,
either individually or collectively, considered in a religious, social, politi
cal, or literary point of view, been benefited by the reform of the six
teenth century? Did Europe, under the exclusive influence of
city, pursue a prosperous career? Did Catholicity impose a sin

IV PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.

on the movements of civilization ' This is the examination \vnich J
propose to make in this work. Every age has its peculiar wants , and
it is much to be wished that all Catholic writers were convinced, that the
complete examination of these questions is one of the most urgent neces
sities of the times in which we live. Bellarmine and Bossuet have done
what was required for their times ; we ought to do the same foi ours
J am fully aware of the immense extent of the questions I have adverted
to, and I do not flatter myself that I shall be able to elucidate them as
they deserve ; but, however this may be, I promise to enter on my task
with the courage which is inspired by a love of truth ; and when my
strength shall be exhausted, I shall sit down with tranquillity of mind, in
expectation that another, more vigorous than myself, will carry into
effect so important an enterprise.

PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION,

THE work of Balmes on the comparative influence of Protestantism
and Catholicity on European civilization, which is now presented to the
American public, was written in Spanish, and won for the author among
his own countrymen a very high reputation. A French edition was pub
lished simultaneously with the Spanish, and the work has since been
translated into the Italian and English languages, and been widely cir
culated as one of the most learned productions of the age, and most ad
mirably suited to the exigencies of our times. When Protestantism could
no longer maintain its position in the field of theology, compelling its
votaries by its endless variations to espouse open infidelity, or to fall
back upon the ancient church, it adopted a new mode of defence, in
pointing to its pretended achievements as the liberator of the human
mind, the friend of civil and religious freedom, the patron of science anc
the arts; in a word, the active element in all social ameliorations. This
is the cherished idea and boasted argument of those who attempt to up-
nold Protestantism as a system. They claim for it the merit of having
freed the intellect of man from a degrading bondage, given a nobler im
pulse to enterprise and industry, and sown in every direction the seed
of national and individual prosperity. Looking at facts superficially, or
through the distorted medium of prejudice, they tell us that the reformers
ol tLe 16th century contributed much to the development of science and

PREFACE TO THt, AMERICAN EDITION. V

the arts, of human liberty, and of every thing which is comprised m the
word civilization. To combat this delusion, so well calculated to en
snare the minds of men in this materialistic and utilitarian age, the
author undertook the work, a translation of which is here presented to the
public. " What do history and philosophy say on this subject? How has
man, either individually or collectively, considered in a religious, social,
political, or literary point of view, been benefited by the reform of the 16th
century? Did Europe, under the exclusive influence of Catholicity, pursue
a prosperous career? Did Catholicity impose a single fetter on the move
ments of civilization?" Such is the important investigation which the au
thor proposed to himself, and it must be admitted that he has accomplished
his task with the most brilliant' success ? Possessed of a penetrating
mind, cultivated by profound study and adorned with the most varied
erudition, and guided by a fearless love of truth, he traverses the whole
Christian- era, comparing the gigantic achievements of Catholicity, in
curing the evils of mankind, elevating human nature, and diffusing light
and happiness, with the results of which Protestantism may boast; and
he proves, with the torch of history and philosophy in his hand, that the
latler, far from having exerted any beneficial influence upon society, has
retarded the great work of civilization which Catholicity commenced, an 1
which was advancing so prosperously under her auspicious guidance
He does not say that nothing has been done for civilization by Protest
ants, but he asserts and proves that Protestantism has been greatly un
favorable, and even injurious to it.

By thus exposing the short-comings, or rather evils of Protestantism,
m a social and political point of view, as Bossuet and others had exhi
bited them under the theological aspect, Balmes has rendered a most im
portant service to Catholic literature. He has supplied the age with a
work, which is peculiarly adapted to its wants, and which must command
a general attention in the United States. The Catholic, in perusing its
pages, will learn to admire still more the glorious character of the faith
which he professes: the Protestant, if sir cere, will open his eyes to the
incompatibility of his principles with the happiness of mankind : while
the scholar in general will find in it a vast amount of information, on the
most vital and interesting topics, and presented in a style of eloquence
seldom equalled.

<; The reader is requested to bear in mind that the author was a native
of Spain, and therefore he must not be surprised to find much that re
lates more particularly to that country. In fact, the fear that Protestant

VI I'ilKFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.

ism might be introduced there seems to have been the motive which in
duced him to undertake the work. He was evidently a man of strong
national as well as religious feeling, and he dreaded its introduction both
politically and religiously, as he considered that it would be injurious to
his country in both points of view. He thought that it would destroy
*he national unity, as it certainly did in other countries.

"A very interesting part of the work is that where he states tne rela
tions of religion and political freedom ; shows that Catholicity is by ric
means adverse to the latter, but, on the contrary, highly favorable to it ;
and proves by extracts from St. Thomas Aquinas and other great Catho
lic divines, that they entertained the most enlightened political views
On the other hand, he shows that Protestantism was unfavorable to civil
liberty, as is evidenced by the fact, that arbitrary power made great pro
gress in various countries of Europe soon after its appearance. The
reason of this was, that the moral control of religion being taken away,
physical restraint became the more necessary." The author, on this sub
ject, naturally expresses a preference for monarchy, it being a cherislied
inheritance from his forefathers ; but, it will be noticed that the prinei
pies which he lays down as essential to a right administration of civi
affairs, regard the substance and not the form of government; are as ne
cessary under a republican as under the monarchical system ; and, if
duly observed, they cannot fail to ensure the happiness of the people.
This portion of the volume will be read with peculiar interest in this
country, and ought to command an attentive consideration.

In preparing this edition of the work from the English translation by
Messrs. Hanford and Kershaw, care has been taken to revise the whole
of it, to compare it with the original French, and to correct the various
errors, particularly the mistakes in translation. A biographical notice of
the illustrious writer has also been prefixed to the volume, to give the
reader an insight into his eminent character, and the valuable services
he has rendered to his country and to society at large.

BAI.I MORE, November 1, 1850.

NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR

BALMES was born at Vich, a small city in Catalonia, m Spain
on the 28th of August, 1810. His parents were poor, but noted for thei
i idustry and religion, and they took care to train him from his childhooc
to habits of rigid piety. Every morning, after the holy sacrifice of mass,
his mother prostrate before an altar dedicated to St. Thomas of Aquin,
implored this illustrious doctor to obtain for her son the gifts of sanctitj
and knowledge. Her prayers were not disappointed.

From seven to ten years of age, Balmes applied himself with great
ardor to the study of Latin. The two following years were devoted to
a course of rhetoric, and three years more were allotted to philosophy;
a ninth year was occupied with the prolegomena of theology. Such
was the order of studies in the seminary of Vich. While thus laboring
to store his mind with knowledge, Balmes preserved an irreproachable
line of conduct. Called to the ecclesiastical state, he submitted readily
to the strict discipline which this vocation required, and he was seen
nowhere but under the parental roof, at the church, in some religious
community, or in the episcopal library. At the age of fourteen he was
admitted to a benefice, the revenue of which, though small, enabled him
to complete his education. In 1826, he went to the University of Cer-
vera, which at that time was the centre of public instruction in that part
of Spain. It numbered four colleges, in all of which an enlightened
piety prevailed, affording the young Balmes a most favorable opportunity
of developing his rare qualities. Here, the frame and habit of his mind
were observable to all, in his deep and animated look, in his grave and
modest demeanor, and in his method of study. He would read a few
pages over a table, his head resting upon his hands ; then, wrapt in his
mantle, he would spend a long time in reflection. " The true method of
study," he used to say, " is to read little, to select good authors, and *o
think much. If we confined ourselves to a knowledge of what is con
tained in books, the sciences would never advance a step. We must
learn what others have not known. During my meditations in the dark,
my thoughts ferment, and my brain burns like a boiling cauldron."

Devoted to the acquisition of knowledge, he cultivated retirement as a
means of facilitating the attainment of his object. His tHrst for leirn

IVOTI-E OF THE AUTHOR

ing was so intense, that it held him under absolute sway, and he found
it necessary at a later period to offer a systematic resistance to its ex
clusive demands. Pursuing his favorite method of study, Balmes re
mained four years at the University of Cervera, reading no other works
than the Sum of St. Thomas, and the commentaries upon it by Bellar-
mine, Suarez and -Cajetan. If he made any exception from this rule,
it was in favor of Chateaubriand's Genie du Christanisme. "Evsry
thing," said he, " is to be found in St. Thomas ; philosophy, religion,
politics : his writings are an inexhaustible mine." Having thus strength
ened his mind by a due application to philosophical and theological stu
dies, he proceeded to enlarge his sphere of knowledge by reading a
greater variety of authors. In taking up a work, he first looked at the
table of contents, and when it suggested an idea or fact which seemed
to open before him a new path, he read that part of the volume which
developed this idea or fact; the rest was overlooked. In this way, he
accumulated a rich store of varied erudition. At the age of twenty-two
he knew by memory the tabular contents of an extraordinary number of
volumes ; he had learned the French language ; he spoke and wrote
Latin better than his native tongue, and had been admitted successively
to the degrees of bachelor and licentiate in theology. The virtues of
his youth, far from having been weakened by these studies, had acquired
greater strength and maturity. As he approached the solemn period of
his ordination, he became still more remarkable for the gravity and mo
desty of his deportment. He prepared himself for his elevation to the
priesthood by a retreat of one hundred days. After his promotion to the
sacerdotal dignity, which took place in his native city, he returned to
the University of Cervera, where he continued his studies, and performed
the duties of assistant professor. Here also he began to manifest his
political views ; but, always with that discretion and moderation for
which the Spanish clergy have been with few exceptions distinguished
during the last twenty years. At that period Spain was agitated by two
conflicting parties, that of Maria Christina and the other of Don Carlos.
Balmes avoided all questions which were rather calculated to encourage
the spirit of faction than promote the general interest of the country.
In 1835 he evinced this circumspection in a remarkable degree, when
the doctorate which had been conferred upon him, required him to de
liver an address in honor of the reigning monarch. Maria Christina was.
then the queen regent, and civil war was about to commence in the
mountains of Catalonia ; but Balmes performed his task without allusion
to politics, and without offending the adherents of either party.

After two years of study at Cervera, where he applied himself to
theology and law, our author returned to Vich, where he determined to
spend four years more in retirement, for the purpose of maturing his
'haracter and knowledge. In this solitude, he devoted himself to his

NOT1CL OK THt AUTHuK. IS

tory, poeiry and politics, but principally to mathematics, of whicn ne ob
tained a professorship in 1837. During" aL these literary labors, Balmes
was actuated by a lively faith, and a sincere, unassuming piety. Religious
meditation, intermingled with scientific reflections, wras the constant oc
cupation of his mind ; he did not neglect, however, the exterior prac
tices of devotion. Besides the celebration of the holy sacrifice, he fre
quently visited the blessed sacrament, and paid his homage to the 13.
Virgin in some solitary chapel. The Following of Christ, the Sum oi
the angelic doctor, and the Holy Scriptures, were always in his hands,
j»nd he took pleasure in reading the ascetic writers of his own country,
[n this way did he prepare himself, until the age of thirty, to become
one of the most solid 'and gifted minds of our time, and to act the im
portant part to which he was called by Divine Providence.

The first literary effort of Balmes before the public, was a prize essay
which he wrote on clerical celibacy. This was soon followed by another
production of his pen, entitled " Observations on the Property of the
Clergy, in a social, political, and commercial point of view," which was
elicited by the clamoring of the revolutionary army under Espartero for
the spoliation of the clergy. The learning, philosophy and eloquence
of the writer in this work, excited the wonder and admiration of the
nost distinguished statesmen in the country. Some months after, he
)ublished his " Political Considerations on the Condition of Spain," in
which he had the courage to defend the rights of both parties in the
•,ountry, and to suggest means of a conciliatory nature for restoring pub
.ic order and tranquillity.

Amidst these political efforts, Balmes did not lay aside his peculiar
functions as a minister of God. The edification of the faithful, the reli
gious instruction of youth, and the defence of the faith against the
assaults of heresy and rationalism, were constant objects of his atten
tion. During the same year, 1840, he translated and published the
"Maxims of St. Francis of Sales for every day in the year;" he also
composed a species of catechism for the instruction of young persons,
which was very extensively circulated. At the same time he undertook
the preparation of the present work, in order to counteract the pernicious
influence exerted among his countrymen by Guizot's lectures on Euro
pean civilization, and to neutralize the facilities offered under the regime
of Espartero for the success of a Protestant Propagandism in Spain.
The occasion and object of this work rendered it expedient that it should
be published simultaneously in Spanish and in French, and with this
riew our author visited France, and afterwards, to extend his observa
tions, passed into England.

On his return to Barcelona, towards the close of 1842, Balmes became
a collaborate* in the editing of the Civilization, a monthly periodical
nf great merit, devoted to literary reviews, and to solid instruction or

NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR.

che current topics of the day. His connection wit.) thi» work lasted
only eighteen months. He then commenced a review of his own, enti
tled the Sociedad, a philosophical, political, and religious journal, which
acquired a great reputation during the one vear of its existence. Driven
soon after into retirement by the disturbances of the times, Balmes com
posed another philosophical work, El Criteria, which is a course of
ogic adapted to every capacity.

From the national uprising that overthrew the government of Espartero,
there arose a general feeling of patriotic independence, which called foi
the cessation of civil strife, and the harmonizing of the two parties that
divided the nation. Many of the adherents of Maria Christina, who
were the nobility and the bourgeoisie, recognized the excesses of the
revolutionary faction which they had called to their aid, while the Carlists
were not all in favor of absolute monarchy, and numbered an imposing
majority among the lower classes. All these men of wise and moderate
views longed to see a remedy applied to the wounds of their afflicted
country ; and with one accord they turned their eyes upon Balmes, as the
only individual capable of conducting this important affair. He hac
already, in his Political Considerations, indicated the principal idea of
his policy for putting an end to the national evils ; it was a matrimonia
alliance between the Queen and the son of Don Carlos. Under these
circumstances he commenced in February, 1844, a new journal, entitled
Pensamiento de la Nation, the object of which was to denounce the
revolutionary spirit as the enemy of all just and peaceful government,
and to inspire the Spanish people with, a proper reverence for the re
ligious, social and political inheritance received from their ancestors, ant'
with a due respect for the reasonable ameliorations of the age. In thi.<
spirit the different questions of the day were discussed with energy and
calmness, and especially the project of an alliance between the Queen
and the son of Don Carlos, which Balmes considered of the utmost im
portance. This measure, such as he proposed it, was, to use the lan
guage of his biographer, "the reconciliation of the past and the future,
of authority and liberty, of monarchy and representative government."
Such was the patriotism, dignity and force, with which our author con
ducted his hebdomadal, that it won the esteem of a large portion of the
most distinguished men among the Carlists, while it also acquired favor
among an immense number in the opposite party. To support its views
a daily journal, the Conciliador, was started by a body of young but
fervid and brilliant writers, and nothing it would seem was wanting to
insure a triumph for the friends of Spain. Prudence, energy, modera
tion, reason and eloquence, with a majority of the people on their side,
deserved and should have commanded success; but they could not pre
vail against diplomatic influence and court intrigue. Balmes learned
with equal surprise and affliction, in the retirement of k's native moun

NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR/ X!

tains, that the government had resolved to offer the Queen in marriage to
the infant Don Francisco, and the infanta to the Duke of Montpensier
This was a severe stroke to the sincere and ardent patriotism of Balmes
He might have resisted this policy with the power and eloquence of his
pen, but he preferred a silent resignation to the heat of political strife,
and the Penscaniento de la Nation, although a lucrative publication, was
iscontinued on the 31st of December, 1846.

During that same year, our author collected into one volume his va
rious essays on politics, as well for his own vindication as for the diffu
sion of sound instruction on the condition of Spain. The following
year he completed his " Elementary course of Philosophy." But his
physical strength was not equal to these arduous labors. To re-establish
in some degree his declining health, he travelled in Spain and France,
and remained several weeks in Paris. The intellectual and moral cor
ruption which was gnawing at the very vitals of the French nation, ana
threatened all Europe with its infection, filled him with increased anxiety
He predicted the dissolution of society, and a return to barbarism, unles.<
things would take some unexpected turn through the special interposition
of Providence. This last hope was the only resource left, in his opinion,
for the salvation of society and civilization, and he exulted when he be
held Pius IX opening a new career for Italy, and consecrating the aspi
rations and movements of all who advocated legitimate reform and ra
tional liberty. The political ameliorations, however, of the sovereign
Pontiff appeared to the opponents of liberalism in Spain, at variance
with the great opposition which Balmes had always exhibited to the rev
olutionary spirit. Hence, it became necessary for him to pay the just
tribute of his admiration to the illustrious individual who sat in the chair
of Peter, and- to proclaim the eminent virtues of the prince and the
pontiff. This he did with surpassing eloquence, in a brochure entitled
Pius IX, the brilliant style of which is only equalled by its wisdom of
thought. In this work, he sketches with graphic pen, the acts of the
papal policy, showing that the holy see is the best guide of men in the
path of liberty and progress, that Pius IX shows a profound knowledge
of the evils that afflict society, and possesses all the energy and firmness
necessary to apply their proper remedy. Balmes was full of hope for the
future, in contemplating the course of the great head of the church, and
cherished this hope to the last moment of his life. His essay on the
policy of Pius IX was the last production of his pen. His career in lit
erature was brief, but brilliant and effective Eight years only had elapsed
since his appearance as a writer, and he had labored with eminent suc
cess in every department of knowledge. The learned divine, the pro
found philosopher, the enlightened publicist, he has stamped upon his
age the impress of his genius, and bequeathed to posterity a rich legacv
in his immortal works. In the raon.1 as well as in the intellectual poinf

XII NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR.

of view, his merit may be summed up in those words of Wisdom
"Being made perfect in a short space, he fulfilled a long time." chap, iv

This distinguished ecclesiastic, the boast of the Spanish clergy and
the Catalan people, died at Vich, his native city, on the 9th of Juljf
1848, in the same spirit of lively faith and fervent piety which had a»
ways marked his life. His funeral took place on the llth, with all the
pomp that could be furnished by the civil and ecclesiastical authorities
The municipality decreed that one of the public places should be named
after him.

Balmes was little below the middle height, and of weak and slender
frame. But the appearance of feeble health which he exhibited, was
combatted by the animation of his looks. His forehead and lips bore the
impress of energy, which was to be seen also in his eyes, black, deep-
set, and of unusual brightness. The expression of his countenance wab
a mixture of vivacity, openness, melancholy and strength of mind. A
careful observer of all his sacerdotal duties, he found in the practices of
piety, the vigor which he displayed in his intellectual labors. The dis
tribution of his time was extremely methodical, and his pleasures con
sisted only in the society of his friends. To the prospect of temporal
honors and the favor of the great, he was insensible ; neither did he seek
after ecclesiastical dignities or literary distinctions. His aim was the
diffusion of truth, not the acquisition of a great reputation. These quali
ties, however, with his eminent talents, varied erudition, and Jrtaluablt
writings, have won for him a universal fame.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THK NAME AND NATURE OF PROTESTANTISM, P*gt 35

CHAPTER II.

THE CAUSES OF PROTESTANTISM.

Wha' ought to te attributed to the genius of its founders — Different causes assigned for
it — Errors on this subject — Opinions of Guizot — Of Bossuet — True cause of Protestant
ism to be found in the social condition of European nations, . . 28

CHAPTER III.

EXTRAORDINARY PHENOMENON IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

Divinity of the Catholic Church proved by its relations with the human mind — Remarka
ble acknowledgment of M. Guizot — Consequences of that acknowledgment, . 38

CHAPTER IV.

PROTESTANTISM AND THE HUMAN MIND.

Protestantism contains a principle of dissolution — It tends naturally to destroy all faith-
Dangerous direction given to the human mind — Description of the human mind, . 42

CHAPTER V.

INSTINCT OF FAITH IN THE SCIENCES.

Instinct of faith — This instinct extends to all the sciences — Newton, Descartes — Observa
tions on the history of philosophy — Proselytism— Present condition of the human
mind, . ... . . 4(

CHAPTER VI.

DIFFERENT RELIGIOUS WANTS OF NATIONS MATHEMATICS MORAL SCIENCES.

Imrortant error committed by Protestantism, with regard to the religious government of
the human mind, . ........... 50

CHAPTER VII.

INDIFFERENCE AND FANATICISM.

Two opposite evils, fruits of Protestantism — Origin of fanaticism — The Church has pre
pared the history of the human mind — Private interpretation of the Bible — Passage from
O'Callaghan — Description of the Bible, M

CHAPTER VIII.

FANATICISM — ITS DEFINITION — FANATICISM IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

Connexion between fanaticism and religious feeling — Impossibility of destroying it — Mean*
of diminishing it — The Church has used these means, and with what result? — Observa
tions on the pretended Catholic fanatics — Description of the religious excitement of the
founders of orders in the Church, . . 57

CHAPTER IX.

INCREDULITY AND REL11IOUS INDIFFERENCE IN EUROPE THE FRUITS OP PROTESTANTISM.

Lamentable symptoms of these from the beginning of Protestantism — Remarkable reli
gious crisis in the latter part of the seventeenth century — Bossuet and Leibnitz — The
Jansenists — Their influence — Dictionary of Bayle — The epoch when that work ap
peared — State of opinions a~iong the Protestants, .... 60

CHAPTER X.

CAUSES OF THE CONTINUED EXISTENCE OF PROTESTANTISM.

mportant question with regard to the continuance of Protestantism — Religion* indiffer
ence with respect to man collectively and individually — European societies with relation
to Mahometanism and idolatry — How Catholicity and Protestantism are capable of de
fending the truth — Intimate connexion between Christianity and European civiliza
tion, . . 54

Xiv TABLK Ol< CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XI.

THE ?C8ITIVE DOCTRINES OF PROTESTANTISM ARE REPUGNANT TO THE INSTINCT OF

CIVILIZATION.

Doctrines of Protestantism divided into positive and negative — Singular phenomenon : tn«
of the principal dogmas of the founders of Protestantism repugnant to European civili
zation Eminent service which Catholicity has done to civilization by Jefendir.g free

will — Nature of error — Nature of truth, . . .08

CHAPTER XII.

EFFECTS WHICH THE INTRODUCTION OF PROTESTANTISM INTO SPAIN WOULD HAVE RCDCCED.

Present state of religious ideas in Europe — Victories of religion — State of science and lite
rature — Condition of modern society — Conjectures on the future influence of Catholi
city Is it probable that Protestantism will be introduced into Spain? — England — Her

connexion with Spain — Pitt — Nature of religious ideas in Spain — Situation of Spain —
How she may be regenerated, . ... .70

CHAPTER XIII

PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICITY IN THEIR RELATION TO SOCIAL PROGRESS PRELIMINA
RY COUP D'CEIL.

Commencement of the parallel — Liberty — Vague meaning of the word — European civiliza
tion chiefly due to Catholicity — East and West — Conjectures on the destinies of Catho
licity amid the catastrophies that may threaten in Europe — Observations on philosophi
cal studies Fatalism of a certain modern historical school, . 79

CHAPTER XIV.

DID THERE EXIST, AT THE TIME WHEN CHRISTIANITY APPEARED, ANOTHER PRINCIPLE OF

REGENERATION?

Condition, religious, social, and scientific, of the world at the appearance of Christianity —
Roman law — The influence of Christian ideas thereon — Evils of the political organization
of the empire — System adopted by Christianity ; her first care was to change ideas —
Christianity and Paganism with regard to the teaching of moral doctrines — Protestant
preaching, ... .84

CHAPTER XV.

DIFFICULTIES WHICH CHRISTIANITY HAD TO OVERCOME IN THE WORK OF SOCIAL REGENE
RATION SLAVERY COULD IT HAVE BEEN DESTROYED MORE SPEEDILY THAN IT WAS BY

CHRISTIANITY?

The Church was not only a great and productive school, but she was also a regenerating:
association — What she had to do — Difficulties which she had to overcome — Slavery —
By whom was it abolished? — Opinion of M. Guizot — Immense number of th.6 slaves —
Caution necessary in the abolition of slavery— Was immediate abolition possible ?— Re
futation of the opinion of M. Guizot, . 90

CHAPTER XVI.

.DBAS AND MANNERS OF ANTIQUITY RESPECTING SLAVERY THE CHURCH BEGINS BY IM

PROVING THE CONDITION OF SLAVES.

The Catholic Church not only employs her doctrines, her maxims, and her spirit of cha
rity, but also makes use of practical means in the abolition of slavery — Point of view in
which this historical fact ought to be considered — False ideas of the ancients on the sub
ject Homer, Plato, Aristotle — Christianity began forthwith to combat these errors-
Christian doctrines on the connexion between master and slave — The Church employs
herself in improving the condition of slaves, i :' .94

CHAPTER XVII

MEANS USED BY THE CHURCH TO ENFRANCHISE SLAVES.

Lit. She zealously defends the liberty of the enfranchised — Manumission in the churches-
Effects of this practice — 2d. Redemption of captives — Zeal of the Church in practising
and extending the redemption of captives — Prejudices of the Romans on this point-
The zeal of the Church for this object contributes, in an extraordinary degree, to th«
abolition of slavery — The Church protects the liberty of the free, . 1M

CHAPTER XVIT1.

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

34. System of the Church with regard to slaves belonging to Jews — Motives which ac
tuated the Church in the enfranchisement of her own slaves — Her indulgence to them —
Her generosity towards the freed — The slaves of the Church considered as consecrated
to God Salutary effects of tris \vav of viewing them — 4th Lihertv is grai ted to thoa

TABLE OF CONTENTS. X*

wno wish to embrace the monastic state — Effects of this practice — Conduct of the Churcfc
with regard to the ordination of slaves — Abuses introduced in this respect checKed — Dis
cipline of the Spanish Church on this point, . .... 106

CHAPTER XIX.

DOCTRINES OF ST. AUGUSTIN AND ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN ON THE SUBJECT OF SLAVERY —

RECAPITULATION.

Doctrine of St. Augustin on this subject — Importance of this doctrine with respect to th»
abolition of slavery — Refutation of M. Guizot — Doctrine of St. Thomas on the sam
subject — Marriage of slaves — Regulation of canon law on that subject — Resume >f the
means employed by the Church in the abolition of slavery — Refutation of M. Guizot—
The abolition of slavery exclusively due to Catholicity — Protestantism had no share
therein, . .... . . 11]

CHAPTER XX.

CONTRAST BETWEEN THE TWO KINDS OF CIVILIZATION

Picture of modern civilization — Civilizations not Christian — Civilization is composed of'
three elements : the individual, the family, and the society — The perfectness of these
three elements depends on the perfectness of doctrines, . .115

CHAPTER XXI.

OF THE INDIVIDUAL OF THE FEELING OF INDIVIDUALITY OUT OF CHRISTIANITY.

distinction between the individual and the citizen — Of the individuality of barbarians ac
cording to M. Guizot — Whether in antiquity individuality belonged exclusively to the
barbarians — Twofold principle of the feeling of personal independence — This feeling infi
nitely modified — Picture of barbarian life — True character of individuality among the
barbarians — Avowal of M. Guizot — The feeling of individuality, according to the defini
tion of M Guizot, belongs in a certain way to all the ancient nations, 118

CHAPTER XXII.

HOW THE INDIVIDUAL BECAME ABSORBED BY THE ANCIENT SOCIETY.

Respect for man unknown to the ancients — What has been seen in modern revolutions-
Tyranny of public power over private interests — Explanation of a twofold phenomenon
which presents itself to us in antiquity and in modern societies not Christian — Opinion of
Aristotle — Remarkable characteristo of modern democracy, . . . 126

CHAPTER XXIII.

OF THE PROGRESS OF INDIVIDUALITY (JNDER THE INFLUENCE OF CATHOLICITY.

The feeling of true independence was possessed by the faithful of the primitive Church-
Error of M. Guizot on this point- ]st, dignity of conscience sustained by the Christian
society ; 2d, feeling of duty ; language of St. Cyprian ; 3d, development of the interiot
life ; 4th, defence of free will by the Catholic Church — Conclusion, . . .131

CHAPTER XXIV

OF THE FAMILY MONOGAMY MARRIAGE-TIE INDISSOLUBLE.

Woman ennobled by Catholicity alone — Practical means employed by the Church to raise
woman — Christian doctrine on the dignity of woman — Monogamy — Different conduct of
Catholicity and Protestantism on this point — Firmness of Rome with respect to mar
riage — Effects of that firmness — Doctrine of Luther — Indissolubility of marriage — Of
divorce among Protestants — Effects of Catholic doctrine with regard to this sacra
ment, ... ... . .135

CHAPTER XXV.

THE PASSION OF LOVE.

Pretended rigor of Catholicity with respect to unhappy marriages — Two systems of £OT-
erning the passions — Protestant system — Catholic system — Examples — Passion of gam
bling — Explosion of the passions in time of public troubles — Of the passion of love — Its
inconstancy — Marriage alone is not a sufficient control — What is wanted to make it a
control — Of the unity and fixity of Catholic doctrine — Conclusion, . 140

CHAPTER XXVI.

OF VIRGINITY IN ITS SOCIAL ASPECT.

Of the ennoblement of woman by virginity — Conduct of Protestantism on this points—
Close analysis of the heart of woman — Of virginity with respect to population — England
— Sfjrious thoughts required for the mind of woman — Salutary influence of monastic
customs — General method of appreciation, . . Mt'

KVi TABLK OK CONTH::IS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Or CHIVALRY, AND THE MANNERS OF THE BARBARIANS IN THEIR INFLUENCE ON THC OOKDI

TION OF WOMAN.

The life of feudal lords according to M Guizot— The passions and faith in chivalry— Chir
airy did not ennoble woman, it supposed her to be ennobled — Of the respect of the Ger
mans for woman— Analysis of a passage of Tacitus— Reflections on that historian— It ia
difficult thoroughly to understand the manners of the Germans— Action of Catholicity-
Important distinction between Christianity and Catholicity— That the Germans of them
selves were incapable of giving dignity to woman, . 150

CHAPTER XXVIII.

OF THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE IN GENERAL.

What the public conscience is — Influence of the feelings on the public conscience in general

Education contributes to form the conscience — State of the public conscience in modern

t/iines What has been able to form the public conscience in Europe — Successive contests

maintained by Christian morality, . 157

CHAPTER XXIX.

IF THE PRINCIPLE OF THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE ACCORDING TO MONTESQUIEU HONOR —

VIRTUE.

Institution of censors according to Montesquieu — Two kinds of prejudice in the author of
the Esprit des Lois — He assigns honor as the principle of monarchies, and virtue as that
of republics— Explanation of the feeling of honor— What is required to strengthen thia
feeling The censorial power replaced by the religious — Examples — Contrasts, . 161

CHAPTER XXX.

9N THE DIFFERENT INFLUENCE OF PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICITY ON THK PUBLIC

CONSCIENCE.

Catholicity considered as a creed — As an institution — Ideas, in order to be efficacious, must
be realized in an institution — What Protestantism has done to destroy Christian morality

What it has done to preserve it — What is the real power of preaching among Protest-

aats Of the sacrament of penance with relation to the public conscience— Of the degree

to wkich the Catholic religion raises morality — Of unity in the soul — Unity simplifies —
Of the great number of moralists within the bosom of the Catholic Church — Of the pecu
liar force of ideas — Distinction between ideas with respect to their peculiar force — Whe
ther the human race is a faithful depositary of the truth— How the truth has been pre
served among the Jews — The native power of Schools — Institutions are required, not
only to teach, but also to apply doctrines — Of the press with relation to the preservation
of ideas — Of intuition — Of discourses, . ... 165

CHAPTER XXXI.

OF GENTLENESS OF MANNERS IN GENERAL.

Wherein gentleness of manners consists — Difference between gentle and effeminate man
ners—Influence of the Catholic Church in softening manners—Pagan and Christian
societies — Slavery — Paternal authority — Public games — Reflections on Spanish bull
fights, - . • • , . 172

CHAPTER XXXII.

OF THE AMELIORATION OF MANNERS BY THE ACTION OF THE CHURCH.

Elements adapted to perpetuate harshness of manners in the bosom of modern society —
Conduct of the Church in this respect — Remarkable canons and facts — St. Ambrose and
the Emperor Theodosius— The Truce of God— Very remarkable regulations of the eccle
siastical authority on this subject, . ... inr5

CHAPTER XXXIII.

OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF PUBLIC BENEFICENCE IN EUROPE.

Difference between Protestantism and Catholicity with respect to public beneficence — P* »a-
dox of Montesquieu — Remarkable canons of the Church — Injury done by Protestan sm
to the development of public beneficence — The value of philanthropy, . . .184

CHAPTER XXXIV.

OF TOLERANCE IN MATTERS OF RELIGION.

I*he question of intolerance has been examined with bad faith — What tolerance is — Toler
ance of opinions — Of error — Tolerance in the individual — With religious men — With un
believers — Two kinds of religious men — Two kinds of unbelievers — Tolerance in society
What is its origin ? — Sourr ? of the tolerance which prevails in society at present, 189

TABLE O* C >NTENTS. XVII

CHAPTER XXXV.

OF THE RIGHT OF COERCION IN GENERAL

itolerance is a general fact in history — Dialogues with the partisans oi universal toJeranc*
— Does there exist a right of punishing doctrines? — Researches into the origin of that
right — Disastrous influence of Protestantism and infidelity in this matter — Of the import
ance which Catholicity attaches to the sin of heresy — Inconsistency of certaur *imid Vol
tairians— Another reflection on the right of punishing doctrines— Resume, . . 196

CHAPTER XXXVI.

OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

nstitutions and legislation founded on intolerance — Causes of the rigor displayed in the
early times of the Inquisition— Three epochs in the history of the Inquisition in Spain:
against the Jews and Moors; against the Protestants; against the unbelievers — Severi
ties of the Inquisition — Causes of those severities — Conduct of the Popes in that matter
— Mildness of the Roman Inquisition — The intolerance of Luther with respect '.o the
Jews — The Moors and Moriscoes, • • • . . . . . 203

CHAPTER XXXVII.

SECOND PERIOD OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

New Inquisition attributed to Philip II. — Opinion of M. Lacordaire — Prejudice against Phi
lip II. — Observations on the work called Inquisition Devoilee — Rapid coup d'ceil at the se
cond epoch of the Inquisition — Trial of Carranza — Observation on this trial, and on the
personal qualities of the illustrious accused — Why there is so much partiality agains*
Philip II. — Reflections on the policy of that monarch — Singular anecdote of a preache
who was compelled to retract — Reflections on the influence of the spirit of the age, 210

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THEMSELVES.

Conduct of Protestantism with respect to religious institutions — Whether these institutions
have been of importance in history— Sophism on the subject of the real origin of reli
gious institutions — Their correct definition — Of association among the early faithful — The
faithful dispersed in the deserts — Relations between the Papacy and religious institutions
—Of an essential want of the human heart— Of Christian pensiveness— Of the need of
associations for the practice of perfection — Of vows — A vow is the most perfect act of
liberty — True notion of liberty, . ... 219

CHAPTER XXXIX

RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN HISTORY THE EARLY SOLITARIES.

Character of* religious institutions in a historical point of view — The Roman empir* — The
barbarians— The early Christians— Condition of the Church when Christianity ascended
the throne of the Cresars — Life of the fathers of the desert — Influence of the solitaries on
philosophy and manners — The heroism of penance saves morality — The most corrupting
climate chosen for the triumph of the most austere virtues, . 229

CHAPTER XL

RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE EAST.

Influence of monasteries in the East— Why civilization triumphed in the West and perished
in the East — Influence of the Eastern monasteries on Arabian civilization, 234

CHAPTER XLI.

RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WEST

Peculiar character of religious institutions in the West — St. Benedict — Struggle of th«
monks against 'the decline of things — Origin of monastic property — The possessions of
the monks serve to create respect for property— Population becomes spread over the
country — Science and letters in cloisters — Gratian arouses the study of law, . 23$

CHAPTER XLII.

er RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS DURING THE SECOND HALF OF THE MIDDLE AGES IN THE WEST—
THE MILITARY ORDERS.

Character of the military orders— Opinion of the Crusades— The foundation of the military
orders is a continuation of the Crusades, . • • 242

CHAPTER XLIII.

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT EUROPE IN THE THIRTEENTH CINT0RY

Transfoimation of the monastic spirit in the thirteenth century— Religious institutions arise
tvery where- -C'taracter of European opposed to that of other civilizations— Mixture o»
9

fVIIl TABLE OF. CONTEN S.

various elements in the spirit of the thirteenth century — Semi-barbarous society — Chris
tianity and barbarism — A delusion common in the study of history — Condition of Eu
rope at the beginning of the thirteenth century — Wars become more popular — Why th«
intellectual movement began in Spain sooner than in the rest of Europe — Ebullition of
evil during the course of the twelfth century — Tancheme — Eon — The Manichees — Vau-
dois — Religious movement at the beginning of the thirteenth century — The mendicant
and preaching orders — The character of these orders — Their influence — Their relations
will: the Papacy, . . . 244

CHAPTER XLIV.

RELIGIOUS ORDERS FOR THE REDEMPTION OF CAPTIVES.

Multitude of Christians reduced to slavery — Religious orders for the redemption of captivea
were necessary — The Order of the Trinity and that of Mercy — St. Peter Armengol, 25€

CHAPTER XLV.

UNIVERSAL ADVANCE OF CIVILIZATION IMPEDED BY PROTESTANTISM.

Effects of Protestantism on the progress of civilization in the world, beginning with tne
sixteenth century — What enabled civilization, during the middle ages, to triumph over
barbarism — Picture of Europe at the beginning of the sixteenth century — The civilizing
missions of the 16th century interrupted by the schism of Luther — Why the action of
the Church on barbarous nations has lost power diwing three centuries — Whether the
Christianity of our days is less adapted to propagate the faith than that of the early ages
of the Church — Christian missions in the early times of the Church — What the real
mission of Luther has been, . . 260

CHAPTER XL VI.

THE JESUITb

Their importance in the history of European civilization — Causes of the hatred which has
been excited against them — Character of the Jesuits — Contradiction of M. Guizot on this
subject — Whether it be true, as M. Guizot says, that the Jesuits have destroyed nations
in Spain — Facts and dates — Unjust accusations against the Company of Jesus, 268

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE FUTURE OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS THEIR PRESENT NECESSITY.

Present state of religious institutions — Picture of society — Inability of industry and com
merce to satisfy the heart of man — Condition of minds with respect to religion Reli
gious institutions will be necessary to save existing society — Nothing fixed in that so
ciety — Means are wanting for social organization — The march of European nations has
been perverted — Physical means of restraining the masses — Moral means are required-
Religious institutions reconcilable with the advancement of modern times, . . 274

CHAPTER XLVIII.

RELIGION AND LIBERTY.

Rousseau — The^ Protestants — Divine law — Origin of power — False interpretation of tne
divine law — St. John Chrysostom — On paternal authority — Relations between paternal
authority and civil power, .... . . . 281

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE ORIGIN OF SOCIETY, ACCORDING TO CATHOLIC THEOLOGIANS.

Doctrines of theologians on the origin of society— The character of Catholic theologians
compared to that of modern writers— St. Thomas— Bellarmin— Suarez— St. Alphonsua
de Liguon— Father Concina— Billuart— The Compendium of Salamanca, . 283

CHAPTER L.

OF DIVINE LAW, ACCORDING TO CATHOLIC DOCTORS.

£n the divine law— Divine origin of civil power— In what manner God communicates this
power— Rousseau— On pacts— The right of life and death— The right of war— Power
must necessarily emanate from God— Puffendorff— Hobbes, . . 298

CHAPTER Li. X

THE TRANSMISSION OF POWER, ACCORDING TO CATHOLIC DOCTORS.

Jirect or indirect communication of civil power— The distinction between the two opinions
important in some respects; in others, not so— Why Catholic theologians have so zeal
ously maintained the doctrine of mediate communication, . . 30i

CHAPTER LII.

ON THE FREEDOM OF LANGUAGE UNDER THE SPANISH MONARCHY.

influence of doctrines on society— Flattery lavished on power— Danger of this flattery-

' TABLE OF CONTENTS. XIJl

Liberty of speech en this point in Spain during the last three centuries- -Mariana—
Saayedra — In the absence of religion and morality, the most rigorous political doctrines
are incapable of saving society — Why the conservative schools of out days are pcwer-
less — Seneca — Cicero — Hobbes — Bellarmin, ... .... 311

CHAPTER LIU.

OF THE FACULTIES OF THE CIVIL POWER.

Of the faculties of civil power — Calumnies of the enemies of the Church — Definition of law
according to St. Thomas — General reason and general will — The venerable Palafox —
Hobbes — Grotius — The doctrines of certain Protestants favorable to despotism — Justifi-
cation of the Catholic Church, .... ... . 317

CHAPTER LIV.

ON RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER.

Of resistance to the civil power — Parallel between Protestantism and Catholicity on this
point — Unfounded apprehensions of certain minds — Attitude of revolutions in this age —
The principle inculcated by Catholicity on the obligation of obeying the lawful authori
ties — Preliminary questions — Difference between the two powers — Conduct of Catholi
city and Protestantism with regard to the separation of the two powers — The indepen
dence of the spiritual power a guarantee of liberty to the people — Extremes which meet —
The doctrine of St. Thomas on obedience, . . ... 324

CHAPTER LV.

ON RESISTANCE TO DE FACTO GOVERNMENTS.

'•iovernments existing merely de facto — Right of resistance to these governments — Napoleon
and the Spanish nation — fallacy of the doctrine establishing the obligation of obedience
to mere de facto governments — Investigation of certain difficulties — Accomplished facts —
How we are to understand the respect due to accomplished facts, . . 33(1

CHAPTER LVI.

HOW IT IS ALLOWED TO RESIST THE CIVIL POWER.

On resistance to lawful authority — The doctrines of the Council of Constance on the assas
sination of a king — A reflection on the inviolability of kings — Extreme cases — Doctrine
of St. Thomas of Aquin, Cardinal Bellarmin, Suarez, and other theologians — The Abbe
de Lamennais' errors — He is wrong in imagining that his doctrine, condemned by the
Pope, is the same as St. Thomas of Aquin 's — A parallel between the doctrines of St.
Thomas and those of the Abbe de Lamennais — A word on the temporal power of the
Popes — Ancient doctrines on resistance to power — Language of the Counsellors of Bar
celona — The doctrine of certain theologians on the case of the Sovereign Pontiff's falling
into heresy in his private capacity — Why the Church has been calumniously accused of
being sometimes favorable to despotism, and sometimes to anarchy, . . 336

CHAPTER LVII.

ON POLITICAL SOCIETY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY

The Church and political forms — Protestantism and liberty — Language of M. Guizot — The
state of the question better defined — Europe at the end of the fifteenth century — Social
movement at this epoch — Its causes — Its effects and its aim — The three elements, mon
archy, aristocracy, and democracy, . . . . 343

CHAPTER LVIII.

ON MONARCHY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

The idea entertained of monarchy at this period — The application of this idea — Difference
between monarchy and despotism — The nature of monarchy at the commencement of the
sixteenth century — Its relations with the Church, . .... 346

CHAPTER LIX.

ON ARISTOCRACY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

The nobility and the clergy — The differences between these two aristocracies — The nobility
and monarchy — Differences between them — An intermediate class between the throne
and the people — THe causes of the fall of the nobility, ... , 348

CHAPTER LX.

ON DEMOCRACY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

"The opinion entertained of democracy — The prevailing doctrines of that epoch — The doc
trines of Aristotle neutralised by the teaching of Christianity — On castes — A passage from
M. Guizot on castes — Influence of thf celibacy of the clergy in preventing an hereditary
succession — The consequences resulting from a married clergy — Cathali'-ity and the r>eo

*X TABLE OF CONTENTS.

pie — Development of the industrial classes in Europe — The Hanseatic Confederation
Establishment of the trades-corporations of Paris — Industrial movement in Italy and
Spain — Calvinism and the democratic element — Protestantism and the democrats of the
sixteenth century, .... . . . . 350

CHAPTER LXI.

VALUE OF DIFFERENT POLITICAL FORMS — CHARACTER OF MONARCHY IN EUBCffc.

Value of political forms — Catholicity and liberty — Monarchy was essential — Character of
European monarchy — Difference between Europe and Asia — Quotation from Count de
Maistre — An institution for the limiting of power — Political liberty not indebted to Pro
testantism — Influence of Councils — The aristocracy of talent encouraged by the
Church, . . . ... 356

CHAPTER LXI1.

HOW MONARCHY WAS STRENGTHENED IN EUROPE.

Monarchy in the sixteenth century is strengthened in Europe — Its preponderance over free
institutions — Why the word liberty is a scandal to some people — Protestantism contri
buted to the destruction of popular institutions, .... 361

CHAPTER LXIII.

TWO SORTS OF DEMOCRACY.

Two sorts of democracy — Their parallel march in the history of Europe — Their characters
— Their causes and effects — Why absolutism became necessary in Europe — Historical
facts — France — England — Sweden — Denmark — Germany, . 364

CHAPTER LXIV

CONTEST BETWEEN THE THREE SOCIAL ELEMENTS.

t -ontest between monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy — How monarchy came to prevail

-Fatal effects of the weakening of the political influence of the clergy — Advantages

which might« have arisen from this influence to popular institutions — Relations of the

clergy with all powers and classes of society, . ... 370

CHAPTER LXV.

POLITICAL DOCTRINES BEFORE THE APPEARANCE OF PROTESTANTISM.

Parallel between the political doctrines of the eighteenth century, those of modern public
ists, and those which prevailed in Europe before the appearance of Protestantism —
Protestantism has prevented the homogeneity of European civilization — Historical
proofs, . . .... 374

CHAPTER LXVI.

OF POLITICAL DOCTRINES IN SPAIN.

Catholicity and politics in Spain — Real state of the question — Five causes contributed to
the overthrow of popular institutions in Spain — Difference between ancient and modern
liberty — The Communeros of Castille: — The policy of her kings — Ferdinand the Catholic
and Ximenes — Charles V. — Philip II., . 377

CHAPTER LXVII.

POLITICAL LIBERTY AND RFLIGIOUS INTOLERANCE.

Political liberty and religious intolerance — Europe was developed under the exclusive -flu
ence of Catholicity — Picture of Europe from the eleventh to the fourteenth century — Con
dition of the social problem at the end of the fifteenth century — Temporal power of the
Popes — Its character, origin, and effects, . .... 382

CHAPTER LXVIII

UNITY IN FAITH RECONCILED WITH POLITICAL LIBERTY.

It is false that unity of faith is opposed to political liberty— Impiety is allied with liberty or
despotism, according to circumstances— Modern revolutions— Difference between the re
volution of the United States and that of France— Pernicious effects of the French revo-
..ution— Liberty impossible without morality— Remarkable passage from St. Augustin on
forms of government, . .... 388

CHAPTER LXIX.

INTE1LKCTUAL DEVELOPMENT UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF CATHOLICITY.

Catholicity in its relations with intellectual development— What is the influence of the prin
ciple of submission to authority— What are the effects of this principle with respect to
all the sciences— Parallel between ancients and moderns — God— Man— Society— Na
ture, . ... 395

TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXl

CHAPTER LXX.

HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OF INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT.

Historical investigation of the influence of Catholicity on the development of the human
mind — Refutation of one of M. Guizot's opinions — John Erigena — Roscelin and Abelard
—St. Anselm, ... 398

CHAPTER LXXI.

RELIGION AND THE HUMAN INTELLECT IN EUROPE.

Religion and the human intellect in Europe — Difference between the intellectual develop
ment of the nations of antiquity and those of Europeans — Causes that have accelerated
this development in Europe — Origin of the spirit of subtilty— Service which the Church
rendered to the human mind by her opposition to the subtilties of the innovators — Paral
lel between Roscelin and St. Anselm — Reflections on St. Bernard — St. Thomas of Aquin
— Advantage of his dictatorship in the schools — Advent of St. Thomas in the miudla
ages of immense advantage to the human mind, . . 404

CHAPTER LXXII

PROGRESS OF THE HUMAN MIND FROM THE ELEVENTH CENTURY TO THE PRESENT 1..ME

Progress of the human mind from the eleventh century to our own times — Different chases
— Protestantism and Catholicity in their relations to learning, to criticism, to the learned
languages, to the foundation of universities, to the progress of literature and the arts, to
mysticism, to high philosophy, to metaphysics, to ethics, to religious philosophy, and to
the philosophy of history, . . .... 412

CHAPTER LXXIII.

SUMMARY OF THE WORK — DECLARATION OF THE AUTHOR.

Summary of tl .e work — The author submits it to the judgment of the Roman Church, 419

TABLE OF NOTES.

1 121. Gibbon and Bossuet's History of

the Variations.

2 421. Intolerance of Luther and the other

Coryphsei of Protestantism.

3 421. Origin of the name Protestantism

4 422. Observations on names.

5 422. Of abuses in the Church.

6 423 Of the unity and harmonious ac

tion of Catholicism— Happy idea
of St. Francis of Sales.

7 423. Acknowledgments of the most dis

tinguished Protestants with re
gard to its weakness — Luther,
Melancthon, Beza, Calvin, Gro-
tius,Papiii, Puffendorf and Leib
nitz — Of a posthumous work by
Leibnitz on religion.

3 424. On human knowledge— Louis
Vives.

9 425 On mathematics — Eximeno, a Spa
nish Jesuit.

10 425. Heresies of the early ages— th,eir

character.

11 425. Superstition and fanaticism of

Protestantism — Luther's devil,
Zwinglius's phantom, Melanc-'
thon's prognostics, Mathias Har
lem, the Tailor of Leyden, King
of Sion; Hermann, Nicholas
Hacket, and others, visionaries
and fanatics

12 427. Visions of Catholics— St. Theresa,

her visions.

13 428. Bad faith of the founders of Protes

tantism — Passages proving this
— Ravages committed by incred
ulity after that time — Gruet —
Remarkable passages from Mon
taigne.

14 429. Extravagance of the early heresies,

a proof of the state of knowledge
in those times.

IK 430 Canons and other documents which
shew the solicitude of the Church
to improve the lot of slaves, and
the various means which she
o?ed to complete the abolition of
slavery.

§ 1. Canons intended to im
prove the lot of slaves.
§2. Canons intended to defend
the freed, and to protect
those who were recom
mended to the Church.
j 3. Canons and other docu
ments relating to the re
demption of captives.
6 4. Karons relating to the
»f *he freed.

HOTK PAOK

15 436.

16 442.

17 444.

18 444.

19 445,

20 445.

21 446.
22. 447,

23 449.

24 450.

25 450.

26 452.

§ 5. Canons concerning- U.»

slaves of Jews.

§ 6. Canons concerning tht
enfranchisement of the
slaves of the Church.
§7. Conduct of the Churcb
with regard to modern
slaverv — Apostolic let
ters of" St. Gregory XVI
— Slave trade -Doctrine
conduct, and influence ol
the Church with regard
to the abolition of the
trade, and of slavery in
the Colonies — i'assage
from Robertson.

Doctrines of Plato and Arislotle
touching infanticide — Their doc
trine on'the rights of society.
Degradation of woman in an«!ien.t

times, especially in Rome.
The Germans of Tacitus ju-iged
according to subsequent ev< nta.
Corruption of ancient manners.
Different opinions of religion ano
philosophy on the power of idea»
—How far it is true that every
idea requires an institution.
Christianity is still in our days the
source of mildness of manners
Influence of the Church on barba
rian leg-islation — Councils of To
ledo — What the indulgence of
the criminal code among the
barbarians proves.
Constant intervention of the
Church in the administration of
public beneficence — Regulations
of the Council of Trent on this
subject— Property of hospitals
considered as that of the Church
Reference to the following note.
Distinction between civil and reli-
fious intolerance — Error of
Rousseau on this point — False
doctrine of the Control Social.
Passages from old laws elative to
the Inquisition— Pragmatic sanc
tion of Ferdinand and Isabella —
Laws of Philip II. and III.— Prag
matic sanction of Ferdinand and
Isabella concerning the relations
of the Spanish Inquisition with
Rome — Passage from Don Anto
nio Perez, which mentions the
anecdote of the preacher at Mad
rid — Letter from Phillip II. to
Arias Montano, on the subject of
the library of the Eacurial

XXIV

TABLE OF NOTES.

•ore PAGE
26 456.

17 458.

JC 459

29 462

30 463.

31 470.

32 471.

33 471.

34 475.

15 476.

56 480.

17 480

(Apfwidix. ) A few words on Puig-
blanch, Villeneuve, and Llorente.

Religious institutions in an histo
rical point of view — Last eoup-
d'ail at their origin and develop
ment—Details with respect to
the vow of chastity which virgins
and widows made in the early
ages of the Church.

Remarkable texts explaining the
passage of St. Paul in the 13th
vchapter of his Epistle to the Ro
mans — Cicero — Horace.

A remarkable fact.

Quotations from P. Fr. John de
Ste. - Marie, and from P. Zeballos.

St. Thomas reminds princes of
their duties.

The opinion of D. Felix d'Amat,
bishop of Palmyra, on the obedi
ence due to de facto governments.

Remarkable passages from St.
Thomas and Suarez, on the dis
putes which may arise between
governors and the governed —
Father Marquez on the same
subject.

Charter of Hermandad between the
kingdoms of Leon and Galicia
and that of Castille, for the pre
servation and defence of their
fueros and liberties.

A remarkable passage from Cap-
many on the organization of the
industrtal classes — The origin
and salutary effects of the insti
tution of trades-corporation.

Reflections of Count de Maistre
on the causes which render the
celebration of. General Councils
less frequent.

Indication of historical source* for
the confirmation of certain facto.

NOTE PAGE

38 480. Texts of St. Th^nas on political

forms — Other texts of St. Thomas
to piove that the law, and not
the will of man, should govern —
Opinions of P. Mariana — Opin
ions of the venerable Palafox on
the subject of imposts, taken
from his Memoir to the King —
Severe language ctf the same
author against tyranny and
those who advise or excuse it —
Passage from P. Marquez on the
right of levying tributes in gen
eral ; its particular application
to Castile — The opinion of the
same author relative to the right
of the supreme authority to the
property of its subjects — A case
in which, according to him, that
authority may dispose of this
property.

39 484. Reference to historical sources to

ascertain the march of the de
velopment of monarchical power
in the different provinces of
Spain.

40 484. A just observation of Count de

Maistre on the conduct of the
Popes compared to that of other
sovereigns.

41 485. Passages in which St. Anselm ex

pounds his views on religious
subjects — Intellectual movement
arising in the bosom of the
Church without transgressing
the bounds _of faith— Anothei
passage proving that the demon
stration applied by Descartes to
the existence of God had beer
discovered by St. Anselm— Cor
roborative Documents in support
of a refutation of M. Guizot's er
ror* on the doctrines of Abelard

PROTESTANTISM

COMPARED WITH

CATHOLICITY.

CHAPTER I.

NAME AND NATURE OF PROTESTANTISM.

THERE is a fact in existence among civilized nations, very important OB
account of the nature of the things which it affects — a fact of transcendent im
portance, on account of the number, variety, and consequence of its influences
• — a fact extremely interesting, because it is connected with the principal events
of modern history. This fact is Protestantism.

Like a clap of thunder, it attracted at once the attention of all Europe; on
one side it spread alarm, and on the other excited the most lively sympathy : it
grew so rapidly, that its adversaries had not time to strangle it in its cradle.
Scarcely had it begun to exist, and already all hope of stopping, or even re
straining it, was gone; when, emboldened by being treated with respect and
consideration, it became every day more daring; if exasperated by rigour, it
openly resisted measures of coercion, or redoubled and concentrated its forces,
to make more vigorous attacks. Discussions, the profound investigations and
scientific methods which were used in combating it, contributed to develope the
spirit of inquiry, and served as vehicles to propagate its ideas.

By creating new and prevailing interests, it made itself powerful protectors;
by throwing all the passions into a state of fury, it aroused them in its favor
It availed itself, by turns, of stratagem, force, seduction, or violence, according
to the exigencies of times and circumstances. It attempted to make its way in
all directions; either destroying impediments, or taking advantage of them, if
they were capable of being turned to account.

When introduced into a country, it never rested until it had obtained guaran
tees for its continued existence; and it succeeded in doing so everywhere. After
having obtained vast establishments in Europe — which it still retains — it was
transported into other parts of the world, and infused into the veins of simple
and unsuspecting nations.

In order to appreciate a fact at its just value, to embrace it in all its rela
tions, and to distinguish properly between them, it is necessary to examine
whether the constituting principle of the fact can be ascertained, or at least
whether we can observe in its appearance any characteristic trait capable of
revealing its inward nature. This examination is very difficult when we have
to do with a fact of the kind and importance of that which now occupies our
attention. In matters of this sort, numbers of opinions accumulate in the
course of time, in favor of all which arguments have been sought. The in
quirer, in the midst of so many and such various objects, is perplexed, discon
certed, and confounded ; and if he wish to place himself in a more advantageous
point of view, he finds the ground so covered with fragments, that he cannot
maka his way without risk of losing himself at every step.

4 C 2o

26 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

The first glance which we give to Protestantism, whether we consider itf
actual condition, or whether we regard the various phases of its history, shows
as that it is very difficult to find any thing constant in it, any thing which can
be assigned as its constituent character. Uncertain in its opinions, it modifies
them continually, and changes them in a thousand ways. Vague in its ten
dencies, and fluctuating in its desires, it attempts every form, and essays every
road. It can never attain to a well-defined existence; and we see it every
moment enter new paths, to lose itself in new labyrinths.

Catholic controversialists have pursued and assailed it in every way; ask them
what has been the result ? They will tell you that they had to contend with a
new Proteus, which always escaped the fatal blow by changing its form. If
you wish to assail the doctrines of Protestantism, you do not know where to
direct your attacks, for they are unknown to you, and even to itself. On this
side it is invulnerable, because it has no tangible body. Thus, no more power
ful argument has ever been urged, than that of the immortal Bishop of Meaux
— viz. " You change; and that which changes is not the truth." An argument
much feared by Protestantism, and with justice; because all the various forms
which are assumed to evade its force, only serve to strengthen it. How just
is the expression of that great man ! At the very title of his book, Protestant-
ism must tremble : The History of the Variations ! A history of variations
must be a history of error. (See note at the end of the vol.)

These unceasing changes, which we ought not to be surprised at finding m
Protestantism, because they essentially belong to it, show us that it is not in
possession of the truth; they show us also, that its moving principle is not a
principle of life, but an element of dissolution It has been called upon, and
up to this time in vain, to fix itself, and to present a compact and uniform
body. How can that be fixed, which is, by its nature, kept floating about in
the air? How can a solid body be formed of an element, the essential ten
dency of which is towards an incessant division of particles, by diminishing
their reciprocal affinity, and increasing their repellent force ?

It will easily be seen that I speak of the right of private judgment in mat
ters of faith, whether it be looked upon as a matter of human reason alone, or
as an individual inspiration from heaven.

If there be any thing constant in Protestantism, it is undoubtedly the sub
stitution of private judgment for public and lawful authority. This is always
found in union with it, and is, properly speaking, its fundamental principle : it
is the only point of contact among the various Protestant sects, — the basis of
their mutual resemblance. It is very remarkable that this exists, for the most
part, unintentionally, and sometimes against their express wishes.

However lamentable and disastrous this principle may be, if the coryphsei of
Protestantism had made it their rallying point, and had constantly acted up to
it in theory and practice, they would have been consistent in error. When
men saw them cast into one abyss after another, they would have recognised a
system, — false undoubtedly; but, at any rate, a system. As it is, it has not
been even that : if you examine the words and the acts of the first Reformers,
you will find that they made use of this principle as a means of resisting the
Authority which controlled them, but that they never dreamed of establishing
it permanently; that if they labored to upset lawful authority, it was for the
purpose of usurping the command themselves; that is to say, that they fol
lowed, in this respect, the example of revolutionists of all kinds, of all ages,
and of all countries. Everybody knows how far Luther carried his fanatical
intolerance; he who could not bear the slightest contradiction, either from hia
own disciples or anybody else, without giving way to the most senseless fits of
passion, and the most unworthy outrages. Henry VIII. of England, who
founded there what is called the liberty of thinking, sent to the scaffold those

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 2

who did not thir.k as he did ; and it was at the instigation of Calvm that Ser
vetus was burnt alive at Geneva.

I insist upon this point, because it seems to me to be cf great importance.
Men are but too much inclined to pride; and if they heard it constantly
repeated, without contradiction, that the innovators of the sixteenth century
proclaimed the freedom of thought, a secret interest might be excited in their
favor; their violent declamations might be regarded as the expressions of a
generous movement, and their efforts as a noble attempt to assert the rights of
intellectual freedom. Let it be known, never to be forgotten, that if these men
proclaimed the principle of free examination, it was for the purpose of making
use of it against legitimate authority ; but that they attempted, as soon as they
could, to impose upon others the yoke of their own opinions. Their constant
endeavour was, to destroy the authority which came from God, in order to esta-
lish their own upon its ruins. It is a painful necessity to be obliged to give
proofs of this assertion ; not because they are difficult to find, but because one
cannot adduce the most incontestable of them without calling to mind words
and deeds which not only cover with disgrace the founders of Protestantism,
but are of such a nature, that they cannot be mentioned without a blush on the
cheek, or written without a stain upon the paper. (2)

Protestantism, when viewed in a mass, appears only a shapeless collection of
innumerable sects, all opposed to each other, and agreeing only in one point,
viz. in protesting against the authority of the Church. We only find among
them particular and exclusive names, commonly taken from the names of their
founders; in vain have they made a thousand efforts to give themselves a gene
ral name expressive of a positive idea; they are still called after the manner
of philosophical sects. Lutherans, Calvinists, Zuinglians, Anglicans, Socinians,
Arminians, Anabaptists, all these names, of which I could furnish an endlesa
host, only serve to exhibit the narrowness of the circle in which these sects are
enclosed; and it is only necessary to pronounce them, to show that they con
tain nothing universal, nothing great.

Everybody who knows any thing of the Christian religion must be convinced
by this fact alone, that these sects are not truly Christian. But what occurred
when Protestantism attempted to take a general name, is singularly remarkable.
If you examine its history, you will see that all the names which it attempted
to give itself failed, if they contained any positive idea, or any mark of Chris
tianity; but that it adopted a name taken by chance at the Diet of Spires; a
name which carries with it its own condemnation, because it is repugnant to the
origin, to the spirit, to the maxims, to the entire history of the Christian reli
gion; a name which does not express that unity — that union which is insepara
bly connected with the Christian name; a name which is peculiarly becoming
to it, which all the world gives to it by acclamation, which is truly its own—
viz. Protestantism. (3)

Within the vast limits marked out by this name, there is room for every
error and for e^ery sect. You may deny with the Lutherans the liberty of
man, or renew with the Arminians the errors of Pelagius. You may admit
with some that real presence, which you are free to reject with the Calvinists
and Zuinglians; you may join with the Socinians in denying the divinity of
Jesus Christ; you may attach yourself to Episcopalians, to Puritans, or, if you
please, to the extravagances of the Quakers; it is of no consequence, for you
always remain a Protestant, for you protest against the authority of the
Church ; your field is so extensive, that you can hardly escape from it, however
great may be your wanderings; it contains all the vast extent that we behold 01
coming forth from the gates of the Holy City. (4)

CHAPTER II.

CAUSES OP PROTESTANTISM.

, theii, wero the causes of tLe appearance of Protestantism in Europe,
af its development, and of its success? This is a question well worthy of
being examined to the bottom, because it will lead us to inquire into the origin
of this great evil, and will put us in a condition to form the best idea of thia
phenomenon, so often but so imperfectly described.

It would be unreasonable to look for the causes of an event of this nature
and importance, in circumstances either trivial in themselves, or circumscribed
by places and events of a limited kind. It is a mistake to suppose that vast
results can be produced by trifling causes; and if it be true that great events
sometimes have their commencement in little ones, it is no less certain that the
commencing point is not the cause; and that to be the commencement of a
thing, and to be its real cause, are expressions of a widely different meaning. A
spark produces a dreadful conflagration, but it is because it falls upon a heap of
inflammable materials. That which is general must have general causes; and
that which is lasting and deeply rooted must have lasting and profound causes.

This law is true alike in the moral as in the physical order; but its applica
tions cannot be perceived without great difficulty, especially in the moral order,
\vhere things of great importance are sometimes clothed in a mean exterior;
where each effect is found allied with so many causes at once, connected with
tLem by ties so delicate, that, possibly, the most attentive and piercing eye may
miss altogether, or regard as a trifle, that which perhaps has produced very
great results : trifling things, on the other hand, are frequently so covered with
glitter, tinsel, and parade, that it is very easy to be deceived by them. We are
always too much inclined to judge by appearances.

It will appear from these principles, that I am not disposed to give great
importance to the rivalry excited by the preaching of indulgences, or to the
excesses which may have been committed by some inferiors in this matter;
these things may have been an occasion, a pretext, a signal to commence the
contest, but they were of too little importance in themselves to put the world
in flames. There would be, perhaps, more apparent plausibility in seeking for
the causes of Protestantism in the characters and positions of the first reformers;
hut this also would be unsatisfactory.

People lay great stress on the violence and fury of the writings and speeches
..f Luther, and show how apt this savage eloquence was to inflame men's minds,
und drag them into the new errors by the deadly hatred against Rome with
which it inspired them. Too much stress also is laid on the sophistical art, the
order and elegance of .the style of Calvin; qualities which served to give an
appearance of regularity to the shapeless mans of new errors, and make them
more acceptable to men of good taste. The- talents and other qualities of the
various innovators are described in the same way with more or less truth.

I will not deny to Luther, Calvin, and the other founders of Protestantism,
the titles on which their sad celebrity is founded; but I venture to assert that
we cannot attribute to their personal qualities the principal influence upon the
development of this evil, without palpably mistaking and underrating the im-
portano3 of the evil itself, and forgetting the instructions of universal history.

If we examine these men with impartiality, we shall find that their qualities
were not greater than those of other sectarian leaders, if so great. Their
talents, their learning, and their knowledge, have passed through the crucible
of criticism, and there is, even among Protestants, no well-instructed and im
partial person who does not now consider the extravagant eulogiums which have
t>een lavished upon them, as the exaggerations of party. They are classed

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 29

Among the number of those turbulent men who are well fitted to excite revolu
tions; but the history of all times and countries, and the experience of every
day, teach that men of this kind are not uncommon, and that they arise every
where when a sad combination of events affords them a fit opportunity.

When causes more in proportion to Protestantism, by their extent and im
portance, are sought for, two are commonly pointed out: the necessity of reform,
»n the spirit of liberty. " There were numerous abuses/' says one party ,
*' gitimate reform was neglected: this negligence produced revolution." " The
L-anan intellect was in fetters/' says another; "the mind longed to break ita
chains; Protestantism was only a grand effort for the freedom of human thought,
a great movement towards liberating the human mind." It is true, that these
two opinions point out causes of great importance and of wide extent : both are
well adapted to make partisans. The one, by establishing the necessity of
reform, opens a wide field for the censure of neglected laws and relaxed morals ;
this theme always finds sympathy in the heart of man, — indulgent towards iti
own defects, but stern and inexorable towards the faults of others. With
respect to the other opinion, which raises the cry of the movement of religious
liberty and the freedom of the human mind, it is sure to be widely adopted :
there are always a thousand echoes to a cry which flatters our pride.

I do not deny that a reform was necessary; to be convinced of this, I nee*
only glance at history, and listen to the complaints of several great men, justb
regarded by the Church as among the most cherished of her sons. I read in
the first decree of the Council of Trent, that one of the objects of the Council
was the reform of the Christian clergy and people; I learn from the mouth of
Pius IV., when confirming the said Council, that one of the objects for which
it was assembled, was the correction of morals, and the re-establishment of dis
cipline. Notwithstanding all this, I am not inclined to give to abuses so much
influence as has been attributed to them. I must also say, that it appears to
me that we give a very bad solution of the question, when, to show the real
cause of the evil, we insist on the fatal results produced by these abuses. These
words also, " a new movement of liberty/' appear to me altogether insufficient
I shall say, then, with freedom, in spite of my respect for those who entertain
the first opinion, and my esteem for the talents of those who refer all to the
spirit of liberty, that I cannot find in either that analysis, at once philosophical
and historical, which, without wandering from the ground of history, examines
facts, clears them up, shows their inward nature, their relations and connections.

If men have wandered so much in the definition and explanation of Protest
antism, it is because they have not sufficiently observed that it is not only a fact
common to all ages of the history of the Church, but that its importance and
its particular characteristics are owing to the epoch when it arose. This simple
consideration, founded on the constant testimony of history, clears up every
thing; we have no longer to seek in the doctrines of Protestantism for any
thing singular or extraordinary; all its characteristics prove that it was born in
Europe, and in tjie sixteenth century. I shall develope these ideas, not by
fanciful reasonings or gratuitous suppositions, but by adducing facts whicb
aobody can deny.

It is indisputable that the principle of submission to authority in matters of
faith has always encountered a vigorous resistance in the human mind. I shall
not point out here the causes of this resistance ; I propose to do so in the course
of this work; I shall content myself at present with stating this fact, and
reminding those who may be inclined to call it in question, that the history of
the Church has always been accompanied by the history of heresies. This
fact has presented different phases according to the changes of time and place.
Sometimes making a rude mixture of Judaism and Christianity, sometimei
combining the doctrines of Jesus Christ with the dreams of the East, or cor

50 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

rupting the purity of faith by the subtilties and chicaneries of Grecian sophistry,
this fact presents us with as many different aspects as there are conditions of
the mind of man. But we always find in it two general characteristics, which
clearly show that it has always had the same origin, notwithstanding the varia
tion in its object and in the nature of its results : these two characteristics
are, hatred of the authority of the Church, and the spirit of sect.

In all ages sects have arisen, opposing the authority of the Church,* and esta.
Wishing as dogmas the errors of their founders : it was natural for the saraa
thing to happen in the sixteenth century. Now, if that age had been an excep
tion to the general rule, it seems to me, looking at the nature of the human
mind, that we should have had to answer this very difficult question, How is it
possible that no sect appeared in that age ? I say, then, error haying once
arisen in the sixteenth century, no matter what may have been its origin, occa
sion, and pretext — a certain number of followers having assembled around its
banner — Protestantism forthwith presents itself before me in all its extent, with
its transcendent importance, its divisions, and subdivisions ; I see it, with bold
ness and energy, making a general attack on all the doctrines and discipline
taught and observed by the Church. In place of Luther, Zuinglius, and Cal
vin, let us suppose Arius, Nestorius, and Pelagius; in place of the errors of the
former, let them teach the errors of the latter; it will all lead to 'the same
result. The errors will excite sympathy; they will find defenders; they will
animate enthusiasts; they will spread, they will be propagated with the rapidity
of fire, they will be diffused, they will throw sparks in all directions; they
will all be defended with a show of knowledge and erudition ; creeds will change
unceasingly; a thousand professions of faith will be drawn up; the liturgy will
be altered, — will be destroyed; the bonds of discipline will be broken; we shall
have to sum up all in one word, Protestantism.

How did it happen that the evil in the sixteenth century was necessarily so
extensive, so great, and so important ? It was because the society of that time
was different from any other that had preceded it ; that which at other times
would only have produced a partial fire, necessarily caused in the sixteenth cen
tury a frightful conflagration. Europe was then composed of a number of im
mense states, cast, so to speak, in the same mould, resembling each other in
ideas, manners, laws and institutions, drawn together incessantly by an active
communication which was kept up alternately by rival and common interests;
knowledge found in the Latin language an easy means of diffusion ; in fine,
most important of all, there had become general over all Europe a rapid means
of disseminating ideas and feelings, a creation which had flashed from the
human mind like a miraculous illumination, a presage of colossal destinies,
viz. the press.

Such is the activity of the mind of man, and the ardour with which it em
braces all sorts of innovation, that when once the standard of error was planted,
a multitude of partisans were sure to rally round it. The yoke of authority
once thrown off, in countries where investigation was so active, where so many
discussions were carried on, where ideas were in such a state of effervescence,
and where all the sciences began to germinate, it was impossible for the restless
mind of man to remain fixed on any point, and a swarm of sects was neces
sarily produced. There is no middle path ; either civilized nations must remain
Catholic, or run through all the forms of error. If they do not attach them
selves firmly to the anchor of truth, we shall see them make a general attack
upon it, we shall see them assail it in itself, in all that it teaches, in all that it
prescribes. A man of free and active mind will remain tranquil in the peaceful
regions of truth, or he will seek for it with restlessness and disquietude. If he
find only false principles to rest on, — if he feel the ground move under hi§
feet, he will change his position every moment, he will leap from error to error

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 31

and precipitate himself from one abyss to another. To live amid errors, and
be contented with them, to transmit error from generation to generation, with
out modification or change, is peculiar to those who vegetate in debasement and
ignorance; there the mind of man is not active, because it is asleep.

From the point of view where we have now placed ourselves, we can see
Protestantism such as it is. From this commanding position we see every thing
in its place, and it is possible for us to appreciate its dimensions, to perceive ita
relations, calculate its influence, and explain its anomalies. Men there assume
their true position; as they are seen in close proximity with the great mass of
events, they appear in the picture as very small figures, for which others may
be substituted without inconvenience; which may be placed nearer or farther
off, and the features and complexion of which are not of any consequence. Of
what importance, then, are the energy of character, the passion, and boldness
of Luther, the literary polish of Melancthon, and the sophistical talents of
Calvin ? We are convinced, that to lay stress upon all this, is to lose our time
and explain nothing.

What were these men, and the other coryphaei of Protestantism ? Was there
any thing really extraordinary about them? We shall find men like them
everywhere. ^ There are some among them who did not surpass mediocrity; and
it may be said of almost all, that if they had not obtained an unhappy cele
brity, they would hardly have been celebrated at all. Why, then, did they
effect such great things? They found a mass of combustibles, and they
set them on tire. Certainly this was not difficult, and yet it was all they did.
When I see Luther, mad with pride, commit those extravagances which were
the subject of so many lamentations on the part of his friends — when I see
him grossly insult all who oppose him, put himself in a passion, and vomit
forth a torrent of impure words against all those who do not humble themselves
in his presence, I am scarcely moved by any other feeling than pity. This
man, who had the extraordinary mania of calling himself the Notharius Dei^
became delirious; but he breathed, and his breath was followed by a terrible
conflagration- it was because a powder-magazine was at hand on which he
threw a spark. Nevertheless, like a man blinded by insanity, he cried out,
" Behold my power ! I breathe, and my breath puts the world in flames !"

But, you will ask me, what was the real influence of abuses ? If we take
care not to leave the point of view where we now are, we shall see that they
were an occasion, and that they sometimes afforded food, but that they did not
exercise all the influence which has been attributed to them. Do I wish, then,
to deny, or to excuse them ? Not at all. I can appreciate the complaints of
some men, who are worthy of the most profound respect; but while lamenting
the evil, these men never pretended to detail the consequences. The just man
when he raises his voice against vice, the minister of the sanctuary when he ia
burning with zeal for the house of the Lord, express themselves in accents so
loud and vehement, that they must not always be taken literally. Their whola
hearts are opened, and, inflamed as they are with a zealous love of justice, they
make use of burning words. Men without faith interpret their expressions
maliciously, exaggerating and misrepresenting them.

It appears to me to be clear, from what I have just shown, that the principal
cause of Protestantism is not to be found in the abuses of the middle ages.
All that can be said is, that they afforded opportunities and pretexts for it.
To assert the contrary would be to maintain that there were always numerous
abuses in the Church from the beginning, even in the time of her primitive
fervor, and of that proverbial purity of which our opponents have said so much;
for even then there were swarms of sects who protested against her doctrines,
denied her divine authority, and called themselves the true Church. The case
is the same, and the inference cannot be denied. If you ahege the extent wad

82 PROTESTANTISM COMPARES WITH CATHOLICITY.

rapid propagation of Protestantism, I will remind you that such was also the
case with other sects; I will repeat to you the words of St. Jerome, with regard
to the ravages of Arianism : " All the world groans, and is full of astonishment
at finding itself Arian." I will repeat, again, that if you observe any thing
remarkable and peculiar belonging to Protestantism, it ought not to be attributed
to abuses, but to the epoch when it appeared.

I believe I have said enough to give an idea of the influence N which abuses
could exert; yet, as it is a subject which has occupied much attention, and OD
which many mistakes have been made, it will be well to revert to it once more,
to make our ideas on the subject still clearer. That lamentable abuses had
crept in during the course of the middle ages, that the corruption of manners
had been great, and that, consequently, reform was required, is a fact which
3annot be denied. This fact is proved to us, with respect to the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, by irreproachable witnesses, such as St. Peter Damien, St.
Gregory VII., and St. Bernard. Some centuries later, even after many abuses
had been corrected, they were still but too considerable, as is witnessed by the
complaints of men who were inflamed with a desire of reform. We cannot
forget the alarming words addressed by Cardinal Julian to Pope Eugenius IV.,
on the subject of the disorders of the clergy, especially those of Germany.

Having fully avowed the truth on this point, and my opinion that the cause
of Catholicity does not require dissimulation or falsehood to defend it, I shall
devote a few words to examining some important questions. Are we to blame
the court of Rome or the bishops for these great abuses ? I venture to think
that they were to be attributed to the evils of the time alone. Let us call to
mind the events which had taken place in the midst of Europe; the dissolution
of the decrepit and corrupt empire of Rome ; the irruption and inundation of
northern barbarians; their fluctuations, their wars, sometimes with each other,
and sometimes with the conquered nations, and that for so many ages; the
establishment and absolute reign of feudalism, with all its inconveniences, its
evils, its troubles, and disasters; the invasion of the Saracens, and their
dominion over a large portion of Europe; now, let any reflecting man ask him-
self whether such revolutions must not of necessity produce ignorance, corrup
tion of morals, and the relaxation of all discipline. How could the ecclesiastical
society escape being deeply affected by this dissolution, this destruction of the
civil society ? Could she help participating in the evils of the horrible state
of chaos into which Europe was then plunged?

But were the spirit and ardent desire of reforming abuses ever wanting in the
Church ? It can be shown that they were not. I will not mention the sainta
whom she did not cease to produce during these unhappy periods; history
proves their number and their virtues, which, so vividly contrasting with ' *
corruption of the age, show that the divine flames which descended on the
Apostles had not been extinguished in the bosom of the Catholic Church.
This fact proves much; but there is another still more remarkable, a fact less
subject to dispute, and which we cannot be accused of exaggerating; a fact
which is not limited to individuals, but which is, on the contrary, the most com
plete expression of the spirit by which the whole body of the Church was ani
mated; I mean, the constant meeting of councils, in which abuses were reproved
and condemned, and in which sanctity of morals and the observance of disci
pline were continually inculcated. Happily this consoling fact is indisputable;
it is open to every eye; and to be aware of it, one only needs to consult a
rolume of ecclesiastical history, or the proceedings of councils. There is no
fact more worth our attention; and I will add, that perhaps all its importance
has not been observed.

Let us remark what passes in other societies: we see that in proportion to thft
cnange of ideas and manners, laws everywhere undergo a rapid modification ,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 33

ind if manners and ideas come to be directly opposed to laws, the latter, reduced
fco silence, are soon either abolished or trodden under foot. Nothing of this
sort has happened in the Church. Corruption has extended itself everywhere
to a lamentable degree; the ministers of religion have allowed themselves to be
carried away by the stream, and have forgotten the sanctity of their vocation;
but the sacred tire did not cease to burn in the sanctuary; the law was there
constantly proclaimed and inculcated ; and, wonderful spectacle ! the men who
themselves violated it frequently assembled to condemn themselves, to censure
their own conduct, and thus to render more public and more palpable the con
trast which existed between their instructions r*nd their actions. Simony and
incontinence were the prevailing vices; if you open the canons of councils,
you will find them everywhere anathematized Nowhere do you find a struggle
so prolonged, so constant, so persevering, of iv ht against wrong; you always
see, throughout so many ages, the law, oppowd face to face to the irregula*
passions, maintain itself firm and immovable, without yielding a single step,
without allowing them a moment of repose or p»:ace until they were subjugator
And this constancy and tenacity of the Church Tere not useless. At the coir-
mencement of the sixteenth century, at the tin** when Protestantism appeare ',
we find abuses comparatively less numerous, moials perceptibly improved, dn
cipline become more strict, and observed with sufficient regularity. The ti. «
when Luther declaimed was not like that when St. Peter Damien and St. Bo
nard deplored the evils of the Church. The chaos was reduced to form; ord/r,
light, and regularity had made rapid progress; and an incontestable proof thM
the Church was not then plunged in such ignorance and corruption as i
alleged, is, that she produced the great assemblage of saints who shed so mi: i i
lustre on the age, and the men who displayed their eminent wisdom at ii >j
Council of Trent. Let us remember that great reforms require much thue,
that they met with much resistance both from the clergy and laity; that lior
having undertaken them with firmness, and urged them with vigour, Gregcry
. VII. has been charged with rashness. Let us not judge of men without regard
to times and places; and let us not pretend to measure every thing according
to our own limited ideas; ages move in an immense orbit, and the variety of
circumstances produces situations so strange and complicated that we can hardly
form an idea of them.

Bossuet, in his History of the Variations, after having differently classed the
spirit which guided certain men, before the thirteenth century, in their attempts
at reform, and having cited the threatening words of Cardinal Julian on the
subject of abuses, adds: " It is thus that, in the fifteenth century, this cardinal,
the greatest man of his times, deplored these evils, and foresaw their fatal
effects; by which he seems to have predicted those that Luther was about to
bring on all Christianity, and in the first place on Germany; and he was not
deceived when he thought that the neglect of reformation, and the increased
hatred against the clergy, was about to produce a sect more dangerous to the
Church than the Bohemians." (Hist, des Varlat. liv. i.) It is inferred from
these words that the illustrious Bishop of Meaux found one of the principal
causes of Protestantism in the omission of a legitimate reform made in time.
Nevertheless, we must not suppose from this that Bossuet meant, in any degree,
to excuse the promoters of it, or that he had any idea of sanctioning their
intentions; on the contrary, he ranked them as turbulent innovators, who, fai
from promoting the real reform which was desired by wise and prudent men,
only served to render it more difficult, by introducing, by fhe means of tLeir
erroneous doctrines, the spirit of disobedience, schism, and heresy.

In spite of the authority of Bossuet, I cannot persuade myself to look upon
abuses as one of the principal causes of Protestantism; but it is not necessary
to repeat what I have said in support of this opinion. It may not, however,

34 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

be unless to repeat, that the authority of Bossuet is misapplied when used to
justify the intentions of the reformers, since the illustrious prelate is the first
to declare them highly culpable, and to observe, that if abuses were in exist
ence, their intention was not to correct them, but rather to make them a pre
text for abandoning the faith of the Church, throwing off the yoke of lawful
authority, breaking the bands of discipline, and introducing thereby disorder
and licentiousness.

How, indeed, can we attribute to the reformers the real spirit of reform,
when almost all of them proved the contrary by the ignominy of their own
aonduct ? If they had condemned, by the austerity of their morals, or by
devoting themselves to a severe asceticism, the relaxations of which they coin-
plained, there might be a question whether their extravagances were not the
effects of exaggerated zeal, and if some excess in the love of virtue had not
drawn them into error. But they did nothing of the kind. Let us hear on
this point an eye-witness, a man who certainly cannot be accused of fanaticism,
since the connection which he had with the leaders of Protestantism has ren
dered him culpable in the eyes of many Behold what Erasmus said, with his
usual wit and bitterness : " The reform, as far as it has gone, has been limited
*o the secularization of a few nuns and the marriage of a few priests ; and this
great tragedy finishes with an event altogether comic, since every thing is wound
up, as in comedies, by a marriage."

This shows to conviction the true spirit of the innovators of the sixteenth
century. It is clear that, far from wishing the reformation of abuses, they
wished rather to increase them. This bare consideration of facts has led
M. Guizot, on this point, into the path of truth, when he rejects the opinion of
those who pretend, that the Reformation was " an attempt conceived and exe
cuted simply with the intention of reconstructing a pure and primitive Church.
The Reformation/' he said, " was not a mere attempt at religious amelioration,
or the fruit of a Utopian humanity and virtue." (Ristoire Ginirale de la Civili
sation en Europe, douzieme le§on.)

We shall have now no difficulty in appreciating at its just value the explana
tion which the same writer gives of this phenomenon. " The Reformation/'
says M. Guizot, "was a great attempt at the liberation of human thought — an
uprising of the mind of man." This attempt, according to M. Guizot, arose
out of the energetic movement given to the human mind, an<l the state of inac
tion into which the Roman Church had fallen; it arose 1'runi this, that the
human mind advanced rapidly and impetuously, while the Church remained
stationary. Explanations of this kind, and this one in particular, are very apt
to draw admirers and proselytes; these ideas are high, and placed on a level
so lofty ajid extended, that they cannot be looked at closely by the generality
of readers ; and, moreover, they appear in brilliant imagery, which blinds the
sight and prejudices the judgment.

That which restrains freedom of thought, as understood by M. Guizot and
other Protestants is, authority in matters of faith: it was, then, against thia
authority that the uprising of the mind declared itself; or, in other words, the
mind rebelled, because it advanced, while the Church, immovable in her doc
trines, was, according to the expression of M. Guizot, "in a stationary state."

Whatever may be the disposition of mind of M. Guizot towards the dogmas
of the Catholic Church, he ought, as a philosopher, to have seen that it was a
great mistake to point out as the distinctive characteristic of one period, that
which had been at every time a glorious title for the Church. For more than
eighteen hundred years the Church has been stationary in her dogmas, and it
is no equivocal proof that she possesses the truth : the truth is unchangeable,
because it is one.

What the Chnrch was in the sixteenth century, she had been before, and sha

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 35

hag teen since. She had nothing particular, she adopted no new characteristic.
The reason, then, by which it is attempted to explain this phenomenon, viz. the
uprising of the mind, cannot advance the explanation a single step ; and if thia
be the reason why M. Guizot compares the Church to governments grown old,
we will tell him that she has had this old age from her cradle. M. Guizot, as if
he had himself felt the weakness of his reasoning, presents his thoughts in
groups, and as it were p$lc-mele; he parades before his readers ideas of different
kinds, without taking pains to classify or distinguish them; one would be
inclined to think that he meant to distract them by variety, and confound them
by mixture. Judging, indeed, from the context of his discourse, the epithets
inert and stationary, which he applies to the Church, do not appear, according
to his intention, to relate to matters of faith; and he gives us to understand
that he speaks rather of the pretensions of the Church with regard to politics
and state economy. He has taken pains, elsewhere, to repel as calumnies, the
charges of tyranny and intolerance which have been so often made against the
court of Rome.

We find here an incoherence of ideas which was not to be expected in so

lear a mind ; and as many persons may scarcely be inclined to believe how far

I'ds incoherence extends, it is necessary to give his words literally: they will

uow us into what inconsistencies great minds can fall when they are placed in

false position.

" The government of the human mind, the spiritual power," says M. Guizot,
"had fallen into an inert and stationary condition The political influence of
tho Church, of the court of Home, was much diminished ; European society no
longer was ruled by it; it had passed under the control of lay governments.
Nevertheless, the spiritual power preserved all its pretensions, all its 4clat, all
its external importance. There happened in this respect, what has more than
once happened to old governments. The greater part of the complaints made
against it were hardly better founded."

It is evident that M. Guizot, in this passage, does not point out any thing
which is at all connected with liberty, any thing which is not quite of another
kind : why does he not do so ? The court of Rome, he tells us, had seen ite
political influence diminished, and yet it preserved its pretensions; the direction
of European society no longer belonged to it, but Rome kept its pomp and its
external importance. Is any thing here meant besides the rivalries of which
political affairs had been the subject ? Did M. Guizot forget what he himself
said some pages before, viz. that it did not appear to him to be reasonable to
assign the rivalry of kings with the ecclesiastical power as the cause of Pro
testantism, and that such a cause was not adequate to the extent arid importance
of the event ?

Although all this has no Jirect connection with freedom of thought, still, if
any one be inclined to attribute the uprising of the mir-.d to the intolerance of
the court of Rome, let him listen to M. Guizot: "It is not true," says he,
" that in the sixteenth century the court of Rome was very tyrannical; that
abuses, properly so called, were then more numerous, more crying, than they
had been at other times ; never, perhaps, on the contrary, had the ecclesiastical
Dower been more easy, more tolerant, more disposed to let things go their own
way. Provided that it was not itself called in question, provided that the
rights which it had formerly enjoyed were allowed in theory, that the same
existence was secured, and the same tributes were paid to it, it would willingly
have allowed the human mind to remain at peace, if the human mind had dono
the same in respect to it."

Thus M. Guizot seems to have forgotten what ue had urged with the view
of showing that the Protestant Reformation was a great attempt at the libera
tion of human thought — a rebellion of the mind of man. He does not allege

36 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

any thing which was an obstacle to tne freedom of man's tnougnts; ana h*
himself acknowledges that there was nothing to provoke this rebellion, as, fo/
example, intolerance or cruelty; he has himself just told us that the ecclesias
tical government of the sixteenth century, far from being tyrannical, was easy
and tolerant, and that, if left to itself, it would willingly have allowed the
human mind to remain tranquil.

It is, then, evident, that the great attempt at the liberation of the human
mind is, in M. G-uizot's mouth, only a vague, undefined expression, — a brilliant
yeil with which he seems to have wished to cover the cradle of Protestantism,
even at the risk of being inconsistent with his own opinions. He reverts to
the political rivalries which he before rejected. Abuses have no importance in
his eyes ; he cannot find in them the real cause ; and he forgets what he had
just asserted in the preceding lecture, viz. that if necessary reform had been
made in time, the religious revolution might have been avoided.

He tries to give a picture of the obstacles to the liberty of thought, and
endeavours to rise to the general considerations which embrace all the import
ance and influences of the human mind ; but he stops at eclat, at external im
portance, and political rivalries ; he lowers his flight to the level of tributes
and services.

This incoherence of ideas, this weakness of reasoning, and forgctfulness of
assertions previously made, will appear strange only to those who are accus
tomed rather to admire the high flights of talented men than to study their
aberrations. It is true that M. Gruizot was in a position in which it was very
difficult to avoid being dazzled and deceived. If it be true that we cannot
observe attentively what passes on the ground around us without narrowing our
view of the horizon, — if this method leads the observer to form a collection of
isolated facts rather than compare general maxims, it is not less certain that, by
extending our observations over a larger space, we run the risk of many illu
sions. Too great generalization borders on hypothesis and fancy. The mind,
when taking an immoderate flight in order to get a general view of things, no
longer sees them as they really are; perhaps sometimes even loses sight of them
altogether. Therefore it is that the loftiest minds should frequently remembei
the words of Bacon : " We do not want wings, but lead." Too impartial not
to confess that abuses had been exaggerated, — too good a philosopher not to see
that they could not have had so great an effect, — M. (iui/ot, who was pre
vented by his sense of dignity and decency from joining the crowd who inces
santly raise the cry of cruelty and intolerance, has made an effort to do justice
to the Church of Rome; but, unfortunately, his prejudices against the Church
would not allow him to see things in their true light. He was aware that the
origin of Protestantism must be sought in the human mind itself; but, knowing
the age and epoch when he was speaking, he thought it was necessary to propitiate
bis audience by frequent appeals to liberty, in order that his discourse might
be well received. This is the reason why, after having tempered the bitterness
of his reproaches against the Church by a few soft words, he reserves all that
is noble, grand, and generous for the ideas which produced the Reformation,
and throws on the Church all the shadows of the picture.

While acknowledging that the principal cause of Protestantism is to be found
in the human mind, it is easy to abstain from these unjust comparisons; and
M. Guizot might have avoided the inconsistency to which we have alluded.
He might have discovered the origin of the fact in the character of the human
inind ; he might, at the same time, have shown the greatness and importance
of it, while simply explaining the nature and position of the societies in which
it appeared. In fine, he might have observed that it was no extra ordinary
effort, but a mern repetition of what has happened in every age ; and a pheno

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 3T

meiton, the character of which depended on the particular state of the atmo
sphere in wnich it was produced.

This way of considering Protestantism as an ordinary event, increased and
developed by the circumstances in which it arose, appears to me to be as philo
sophical as it is little attended to. I shall support it by another observation,
which will supply us with reasons and examples at the same time.

The state of modern society for three hundred years has been such, that all
the events that have occurred havq, acquired a character of generalization, and
consequently an importance, which distinguishes them from all the events of a
similar kind which occurred at other times and in a different social state. If
we examine the history of antiquity, we shall see that all the events therein
occurring were isolated in some sort from each other; this was what rendered
them less beneficial when they were good, and less injurious when they were
bad. Carthage, Rome, Sparta, Athens, all these nations more or less advanced
in the career of civilization, each followed its own path, and progressed in a
different way. Ideas, manners, political constitutions, succeeded each other,
without our being able to perceive any influence of the ideas of one nation on
those of another, or of the manners of one nation on those of another; we do
not find any evidence of a tendency to bring nations to one common centre.

We also remark that, except when forced, to intermix, ancient nations could
be a long time in close proximity without losing their peculiarities, or suffering
any important change by the contact.

Observe how different is the state of things in Europe in modern times. A
revolution in one country affects all others ; an idea sent forth from the schools
agitates nations and alarms governments. Nothing is isolated, every thing is
general, and acquires by expansion a terrible force. It is impossible to study
the history of one nation without seeing all the others make their appearance
on the stage ; and we cannot study the history of a science or an art without
discovering a thousand connections with objects which do not belong ,to science
or to art.

All nations are connected, objects are assimilated, relations increase. The
affairs of one nation are interesting to all the others, and they wish to take part
in them. This is the reason why the idea of non-intervention in politics is, and
always will be, impracticable ; it is, indeed, natural for us to interfere in that
in which we are interested.

These examples, although taken from things of a different kind, appear to
me very well calculated to illustrate my idea of the religious events of that
period. Protestantism, it is true, is thereby stripped of the philosophic man
tle by which it has been covered from its infancy ; it loses all right to be con
sidered as full of foresight, magnificent projects, and high destinies, from its
cradle; but I do not see that its importance and extent are thereby diminished;
the fact itself, in a word, is unimpaired, but the real cause of the imposing
aspect in which it has presented itself to the world is explained.

Every thing, in this point of view, is seen in its just dimensions; indivi
duals are scarcely perceived, and abuses appear only what they really are —
opportunities and pretexts ; vast plans, lofty and generous ideas, and efforts at
independence of mind, are only gratuitous suppositions. Thence ambition, wai,
the rivalry of kings, take their position as causes more or less influential, but
always in the second rank. All the causes are estimated at their real value j
in fine, the principal causes being once pointed out, it is acknowledged that the
fact was sure to be accompanied in its development by a multitude of subordi
nate agents. There remains still an important question in this matter, viz.
what was the cause of the hatred, or rather the feeling of exasperation, on the
part of sectarians against Rome ? Was it owing to some great abuse, some
great wrong on the part of Home ? There is but one answer to make, viz. tb «4

D

38 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

in a stcrm, the waves always dash with fury against the immovable rock which
resists them.

So far from attributing to abuses all the influence which has be^n assigned
to them on the birth and development of Protestantism, I am convinced, on
the contrary, that all imaginable legitimate reforms, and the greatest degree of
willingness on the part of the Church authorities to comply with every exigence,
would not have been able to prevent that unhappy event.

He has paid little attention to the extreme* inconstancy and fickleness of the
human mind, and studied its history to little purpose, who does not, recognise
in the event of the sixteenth century one of those great calamities which Qod
alone can avert by a special intervention of his providence. (5)

CHAPTER III.

EXTRAORDINARY PHENOMENON IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

THE proposition contained in the concluding lines of the last chapter sug
gests a corollary, which, if I am not mistaken, offers a new demonstration of
the divine origin of the Catholic Church. Her existence for eighteen centuries,
in spite of so many powerful adversaries, has always been regarded as a most
extraordinary thing. Another prodigy, too little attended to, and of not less
importance when the nature of the human mind is taken into account, is, the
unity of the Okurch's doctrines, peruadiny, as it does, all her various inst'mc-
tions, and the number of great minds which this unity has always enclosed within
her bosom.

I particularly call the attention of all thinking men to this point; and
although I cannot hope to develope this idea in a suitable manner, I am sure
they will find in it matter for very serious reflection. This method of consi
dering the Church may perhaps recommend itself to the taste of some readers
on another account, viz. because I shall lay aside Revelation, in order to con
sider Catholicity, not as a Divine religion, but as a school of philosophy.

No one who has studied the history of letters can deny that the Church has,
in all ages, possessed men illustrious for science. The history of the Fathers
of the first ages of the Church is nothing but the history of the most learned
men in Europe, in Africa, and in Asia; the list of learned men who preserved,
after the irruption of the Barbarians, some remains of ancient knowledge, is
composed of churchmen. In modern times you cannot point out a branch of
human knowledge, in which a considerable number of Catholics have not
figured in the first rank. Thus there has been, for eighteen hundred years, an
uninterrupted chain of learned men, who were Catholics, that is, men united in
the profession of the doctrines taught by the Catholic Church. Let us lay
aside for a moment the divine characteristics of Catholicity, to consider it only
as a school or sect; I say, that in the fact which I have pointed out, we find
phenomenon so extraordinary, that its equal cannot be found elsewhere, and
that no effort of reason can explain it, according to the natural order of human
things.

It is certainly not new in the history of the human mind for a doctrine, more
or less reasonable, to be professed for a time by a certain number of learned and
enlightened men; this has been shown in schools of philosophy both ancient
and modern. But for a creed to maintain itself for many ages, by preserving
the adhesion of men of learning of all times and of all countries — of minda
differing among themselves on other points — of men opposed in interests and
divided by livalries, is a phenomenon new, unique, and not to be found any
where but in the Catholic Church. It always has been, and still is, the practice

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 3J>

of the Church, while one in faith and doctrine, to teach unceasingly —to excite
discussion on all subjects — to promote the study and examination of the foun
dations on which faith itself reposes — to scrutinize for this purpose the ancient
languages, the monuments of the remotest times, the documents of history, the
discoveries of scientific observation, the lessons of the highest and most analytic
sciences, and to present herself with a generous confidence in the great lyceums,
where men replete with talents and knowledge concentrate, as in a focus, all
that they have learned from their predecessors, and all that they themselves
have collected: and nevertheless we see her always persevere with firmness in
her faith and in the unity of her doctrines ; we see her always surrounded by
illustrious men, who, with their brows crowned with the laurels of a hundred
literary contests, humble themselves, tranquil and serene, before her, without
fear of dimming the brightness of the glory which surrounds their heads.

We ask those who see in Catholicity only one of the innumerable sects by
which the earth has been covered, to point out elsewhere a similar fact; to
explain to us how the Church has been able io show us a phenomenon, con
stantly existing, so opposed to the ever-varying spirit of the human mind ; let
them tell us by what secret talisman the Sovereign Pontiffs have been able to
do what other men have found impossible. Those men, who bowed their heads
at the command of the Vatican, who have laid aside their own opinions to
adopt those of a man called the Pope, were not simple and ignorant men.
Look at them attentively; you will see in the boldness of their mien their
knowledge of their own intellectual power ; you will read in their bright and
penetrating eyes the flame of genius which burns in their breasts. They are
the same men who have filled the highest places in the academies of Europe;
who have spread their fame over the world, and whose names have been handed
down to future generations. Examine the history of all ages, search all the
countries of the world, and if you find anywhere such an extraordinary combi
nation of knowledge in union with faith, of genius in submission to authority,
and of discussion without breach of unity, you will have made an important
discovery, and science will have to explain a new phenomenon. But you know
well that you cannot do so. This is the reason why you have recourse to new
stratagems in order to cast a shade on the brightness of this fact; for you fee.
that impartial reason and common sense must draw from it the conclusion that
there is in the Catholic Church something which is not to be found elsewhere.

These facts, say our adversaries, are certain ; the reflections which they sug
gest are dazzling at first sight; but if we examine the subject thoroughly, we
shall see the difficulties they raise disappear. This phenomenon, which we
have seen realized in the Catholic Church, and which is not found elsewhere,
only proves that there has always been in the Church a fixed system, which has
been developed with uniform regularity. The Church knew that union is the
source of strength; that union cannot exist without unity of doctrine; and
that unity cannot be preserved without submission to authority. This simple
observation established, and constantly maintained, the principle of submission.
Such is the explanation of the phenomenon. The idea, we grant, is profoundly
wise, the scheme is grand, the system is extraordinary; but they do uot prove
any thing in favor of the Divine origin of Catholicism.

This is the best reply which they can make ; it is easy to show that the diffi
culty remains entire. Indeed, if it be true that there has existed a society on
earth which has been for eighteen centuries guided by one fixed and constant
principle — a society which has known how to bind to this principle eminent
men of all ages and countries, the following questions must be asked of our
adversaries : — Why has the Church alone possessed this principle, and monopo
lized this idea? If other sects have been in possession of it, why have they
not acted on it? All the philosophic sects have disappeared, one after auothe",'

40 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the Church alone remains. Other religions, in order to preserve some sort o<
unity, have been compelled to shun the light, to avoid discussion, to hide thein«
selves in the thickest shades. Why has the Church preserved her unity whila
seeking the light, while publishing her books in open day, while lavishing all
sorts of instruction, and founding everywhere colleges, universities, and esta
blishments of every description, where all the splendor of knowledge and
erudition has been concentrated ?

It is not enough to say that there was a plan — a system ; the difficulty lies
k the existence of this plan and this system ; it consists in explaining how
th.y vere conceived and executed. If we had to do with a small number of
men, in limited circumstances, times, and countries, for the execution of a
limited project, there would be nothing extraordinary ; but we have to do with
a period of eighteen hundred years, with all the countries of the world, with
circumstances the most varied, the most different, and the most opposed to each
other ; we have to do with a multitude of men who did not meet together, or
act in concert. How is all this to be explained ? If it were a plan and a
system devised by man, we should ask, What was the mysterious power of
Rome which enabled her to unite around her so many illustrious men of all
times and of all countries ? How did the Roman Pontiff, if he be only the
chief of a sect, manage to fascinate the world to this extent ? What magician
ever did such wonders ? Men have long declaimed against his religious despot
ism ; why has no one been found to wrest the sceptre from his grasp ? why has
not a pontifical throne been raised capable of disputing the pre-eminence with
his, and of maintaining itself with equal splendor and power ? Shall we
attribute it to his temporal power? This power is very limited. Rome was
net able to contend in arms with any of the other European powers. Shall we
attribute it to the peculiar character, to the knowledge or the virtues of the
men who have occupied the Papal throne ? There has been, during these
eighteen hundred years, an infinite variety in the characters and in the talents
and virtues of the Popes. For those who are not Catholics, who do not see in
the Roman Pontiff the vicar of Jesus Christ, — the rock on which He has built
His Church, — the duration of this authority must be the most extraordinary
phenomenon ; and it is certainly one of the questions most worthy of being
examined by the science which devotes itself to the history of the human
mind ; how there existed for many centuries an uninterrupted series of learned
men, always faithful to the doctrines of the Roman See ?

M. Guizot himself, in comparing Protestantism with the Roman Church,
seams to have felt the force of this truth ; and its light appears to have made
him confused in his remarks. Let us listen again to this writer, .whose talents
and renown have dazzled, on this point, so many readers, who do not examine
t">e solidity of proofs when they are clothed in brilliant images, and who
applaud all kinds of ideas when they are conveyed to them in a torrent of en
chanting eloquence; men who, pretending to intellectual independence, sub
scribe, without inquiry, to the decisions of the leaders of their school; who
receive their doctrines with submission, and dare not even raise their heads to
ask for the titles of their authority. M. (jruizot, like all the great men among
Protestants, was aware of the immense void which exists amid its various sects,
and of the force and vigour which is contained in Catholicity ; he has not been
able to free himself from the rule of great minds, — a rule which is explicitly
confirmed by the writings of the greatest men of the Reformation. After
pointing out the inconstant progress of Protestantism, and the error which il
has introduced into the organization of intellectual society, M. Gruizot proceeds
thus : " People have not known how to reconcile the rights and necessities of
tradition with those of liberty; and the cause of it undoubtedly has been, that
the, Reformation did not fully understand and accept either its principles er it*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 4 1

effects." What sort of a religion must that be which does not fully understand
and accept its principles or its effects ?

Did a more formal condemnation of the Reformation ever issue out of the
mouth of man ? could any thing of the kind ever be said of the sects of phi
losophers, ancient or modern ? Can the Reformation, then, after this, pretend
to direct men or society ? "Thence arises," continues M. Q-uizot, "a certain
air of inconsistency and narrowness of spirit, which has often given advantages
over it to its opponents. The latter knew very well what they did and what
they wished ; they ascended to the principles of their conduct, and avowed all
their consequences. The^re never was a government more consistent, more sys
tematic than that of the Church of Home." But whence was the origin of a
system so consistent ? When we consider the fickleness and inconstancy of the
human mind, do not this system, this consistency, and these fixed principles,
speak volumes to the philosopher and man of good sense ? ^

We have observed those terrible elements of dissolution which have theii
source in the mind of man, and which have acquired so much force in modern
society ; we have seen with what fatal power they destroy and annihilate all
institutions, social, political, and religious, without ever succeeding in making a
breach in the doctrines of Catholicity, — without altering that system, so fixed
and so consistent. Is there no conclusion to be drawn from all this in favour
of Catholicity ? To say that the Church has done that which no schools, or
governments, or societies, or religions could do, is it not to confess that she is
wiser than every thing human ? And does it not clearly prove that she does
not owe her origin to human thought, and that she is derived from the bosom
of the Creator? This society — formed, you say, by men — this government,
directed by men, has endured for eighteen hundred years ; it extends to all
countries, it addresses the savage- in the forest, the barbarian in his tent, the
civilized man in the most populous cities; it reckons among its children the
shepherd clothed in skins, the laborer, the powerful nobleman ; it makes its
laws heard alike by the simple mechanic at his work, and the man of learning
iu his closet absorbed in the profoundest speculations. This government has
always had, according to M. Guizot, a full knowledge of its actions and its
wishes; it has always been consistent in its conduct. Is not this avowal its
most convincing apology, its most eloquent panegyric ; and shall it not be con
sidered a proof that it contains within itself something more than human ?

A thousand times have I beheld this prodigy with astonishment ; a thousand
times have my eyes been fixed upon that immense tree which extends its
branches from east to west, from north to south ; I see beneath its shade a mul
titude of different nations, and the restless genius of man reposing in tranquil
lity at its feet.

In the East, at the period when this divine religion first appeared, 1 see,
amidst the dissolutions of all sects, the most illustrious philosophers crowd to
hear her words. In Greece, in Asia, on the banks of the Nile, in all the coun
tries where, a short time before, swarmed innumerable sects, I see appear on a
sudden a generation of great men, abounding in learning, in knowledge, in
eloquence, and all agreeing in the unity of Catholic doctrine.

In the West, a multitude of barbarians throw themselves on an empire fall
ing to decay ; a dark cloud descends upon an horizon charged with calamities
and disasters; there, in the midst of a people submerged in the corruption of
morals, and having lost even the remembrance of their ancient grandeur, I see
the only men who can be called worthy heirs of the lloman name, seek, in the
retirement of their temples, an asylum for the austerity of their morals; it is
there that they preserve, increase, and enrich the treasure of ancient knowledge.
t my admiration reaches its height, when I observe that sublime intellect,
.. .thy heir of the genius of Plato, whim, after having sought the truth in all

VL PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITI.

the schools, in all the sects, and with indomitable boldness run through all
human errors, feels itself subjugated by the authority of the Church, and trans
forms the freethinker into the great Bishop of Hippo. In modern times the
series of great men who shone in tho times of Leo X. and Louis XIV. passes
before my eyes. I see the illustrious race still continue throughout the calami
ties of the eighteenth century ; and iu the nineteenth I see fresh heroes, who,
after having followed error in all directions, come to hang their trophies at
the gates of the Catholic Church. What, then, is this prodigy ? Has a sect
or religion like it ever before been seen ? These men study every thing, dis
pute on every thing, reply to every thing, know every thing ; but always agree
ing in unity of doctrine, they bend their noble and intellectual brows in
respectful obedience to faith. Do we not seem -to behold another j^ -ry
system, where globes of fire revolve in their vast orbits in the midst of im i-
sity, always drawn to their centre by a mysterious attraction? That cei^.ul
force, which allows no aberration, takes from them nothing of their extent, or
of the grandeur of their movement ; but it inundates them with light, while
giving to their motion a more majestic regularity. (6)

CHAPTER IV.

PROTESTANTISM AND THE MIND.

THIS fixedness of idea, this unanimity of will, this wisdom and constancy of
plan, this progress with a firm step towards a definite object and end ; and, in
fine, this admirable unity, acknowledged in favor of Catholicism by M. Gruizot
himself, have not been imitated by Protestantism, either in good or evil. Pro
testantism, indeed, has not a single idea, of which it can say : " This is my
own." It has attempted to appropriate to itself the principle of private judg
ment in matters of faith ; and if several of its opponents have been too willing
to accord it, it was because they were unable to find therein any other consti
tutive element ; it was also because they felt that Protestantism, in boasting of
having given birth to such a principle, labored to throw disgrace on itself, like
a father who boasts of having unworthy and depraved sons. It is false, how
ever, that Protestantism produced this principle of private judgment, since it
was itself the offspring of that principle. That principle, before the Reforma
tion, was formed in the bosom of all sects ; it is the real germ of all errors } in
proclaiming it, Protestants only yielded to a necessity which is common to all
the sects separated from the Church.

There was therein no plan, no foresight, no system. The mere resistance to
the authority of the Church included the necessity of unlimited private judg
ment, and the establishment of the understanding as supreme judge ; even had
the coryphaei of Protestantism wished from the first to oppose the consequences
and applications of this right, the barrier was broken, and the torrent could
not have been confined

" The right of examining what we ought to believe." says a celebrated Pro
testant, ( Germany, by Mad. de Stae'l, part iv. chap. 2;, " is the foundation of
Protestantism. The first Reformers did not think thus ; they thought themselves
able to place the pillars of Hercules of the mind according to their own lights ;
but they were mistaken in hoping to make those who had rejected all authority
of this kind in the Catholic religion submit to their decisions as infallible.
This resistance on their part proves, that they were not led by any of those
;ideas, which, although erroneous, show, in some measure, nobleness and gene-
losity of heart; and that it is not of them that the human mind can say:
They have erred, but it was in order to give me more liberty of action."

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 4S

" The religious revolution of the sixteenth century," says M. Guizot, '• <lii not
anderstand the true principles of intellectual liberty; it liberated the huniun
mind, and yet pretended to govern it by law."

But it is in vain for man to struggle against the nature of things : Protest
antism endeavored, without success, to limit the right of private judgment. It
raised its voice against it, and sometimes appeared to attempt its total destruc
tion ; but the right of private judgment, which was in its own bosom, remained
there, developed itself, and acted there in spite of it. There was no middle
course for Protestantism to adopt : it was compelled either to throw itself into
the arms of authority, and thus acknowledge itself in the wrong, or else allow
the dissolving principle to exert so much influence on its various sects, as to
destroy even the shadow of the religion of Jesus Christ, and debase Christianity
to the rank of a school of philosophy.

The cry of resistance to the authority of the Church once raised, the fatal
results might be easily imagined ; it was thus easy to foresee that that poisoned
germ, in its development, must cause the ruin of all the Christian truths; and
what could prevent its rapid development in a soil where fermentation was so
active ? Catholics were not wanting to proclaim loudly the greatness and im
minence of the danger; and it must be allowed that many Protestants foresaw
it clearly. No one is ignorant that the most distinguished men of the sect
gave their opinions on this point, even from the beginning. Men of the greatest
talent never found themselves at ease in Protestantism. They always felt that
there was an immense void in it; this is the reason why they have constantly
inclined either towards irreligion or towards Catholic unity.

Time, the best judge of opinions, has confirmed these melancholy prognos
tics. Things have now reached such a pass, that those only who are very ill
instructed, or who have a very limited grasp of mind, can fail to see that the
Christian religion, as explained by Protestants, is nothing more than an opinion
— a system made up of a thousand incoherent parts, and which is degraded tc
the level of the schools of philosophy. If Christianity still seems to surpass
these schools in some respects, and preserves some features which cannot be
found in what is the pure invention of the mind of man, it ought not to be a
matter of astonishment. It is owing to that sublimity of doctrine and that
sanctity of morality which, more or less disfigured, always shines while a trace
is preserved of the words of Jesus Christ. But the feeble light which strug
gles with darkness after the sun has sunk below the horizon, cannot be com
pared to that of day: darkness advances and spreads; it extinguishes the expir
ing reflection, and night comes on. Such is the doctrine of Christianity among
Protestants. A glance at these sects shows us that they are not purely philo
sophical, but it shows us at the same time that they have not the characters of
true religion. Christianity has no authority therein ; and is there like a being
out of its proper element, — a tree deprived of its roots: its face is pale and
disfigured like that of a corpse Protestantism talks of faith, and its funda
mental principle destroys it; it endeavors to exalt the gospel, and its own prin
ciple, by subjecting that gospel to private judgment, weakens its authority. If
it speak of the sanctity and purity of Christian morality, it is reminded that
some of its dissenting sects deny the divinity of Jesus Christ; and that they
all may do so according to the principle on which it rests. The Divinity of
Jesus Christ once doubted, the God-made man is reduced to the rank of a great
philosopher and legislator ; He has no longer the authority necessary to give to
His laws the august sanction which renders them so holy in the eyes of men ;
He can no longer imprint upon them the seal which raises them above all hu
man thoughts, and His sublime instructions cease to be lessons flowing from
the lips cf uncreated Wisdom.

Tf you deprive the human mind of the support of authority of some kind 01

44 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

ethi.r, on what can it depend? Abandoned to its own delirious dreams, it n
forced again into the gloomy paths which led the philosophers of the anciem
schools to chaos. Reason and experience are here agreed. If you substitute
the private judgment of Protestants for the authority of the Church, all the
great questions respecting God and man remain without solution. All the dif
ficulties are left; the mind is in darkness, and seeks in vain for a light to guide
it in safety: stunned by the voices of a hundred schools, who dispute 'without
being able to throw any light on the subject, it relapses into that state of dis
couragement and prostration in which Christianity found it, and from which,
with so much exertion, she had withdrawn it. Doubt, pyrrhonism, and indif
ference become the lot of the greatest minds ; vain theories, hypothetical sys
tems, and dreams take possession of men of more moderate abilities ; the igno
rant are reduced to superstitions and absurdities.

Of what use, then, would Christianity have been on the earth, and what
would have been the progress of humanity'/ Happily for the human race, the
Christian religion was not abandoned to the whirlwind of Protestant sects. In
Catholic authority she has found ample means of resisting the attacks of sophis
try arid error. What would have become of her without it ? Would the subli
mity of her doctrines, the wisdom of her precepts, the unction of her counsels,
have been now any thing niore than a beautiful dream, related in enchanting
language by a great philosopher? Yes, I must repeat, without the authority
of the Church there is no security for faith ; the divinity of Jesus Christ be
comes a matter of doubt ; His mission is disputed ; in fact, the Christian reli
gion disappears. If she cannot show us her heavenly titles, give us full cer
tainty that she has come from the bosom of the Eternal, that her words are
those of God Himself, and that He has condescended to appear on earth for the
salvation of men, she has then lost her right to demand our veneration. Re
duced to the level of human ideas, she must, then, submit to our judgment like
other mere opinions ; at the tribunal of philosophy she may endeavor to main
tain her doctrines as more or less reasonable ; but she will always be liable tc
the reproach of having wished to deceive us, by passing herself off as divine
when she was only human ; and in all discussions on the truth of her doctrines,
she will have this fatal presumption against her, viz. that the account of her
origin was an imposture.

Protestants boast of their independence of mind, and reproach the Catholic
religion with violating the most sacred rights, by demanding a submission which
outrages the dignity of man. Here extravagant declamation about the strength
of our understanding is introduced with good effect ; and a few seductive images
and expressions, such as " lold fliylits" and " glittering wings" &c., are enough
to delude many readers.

Let the human mind enjoy all its rights ; let it boast of possessing that spark
of divinity called the intellect ; let it pass over all nature in triumph, observing
all the beings by which it is surrounded, and congratulate itself on its own im
mense superiority, in the midst of the wonders with which it has known how to
embellish its abode; let it point out, as proofs of its strength and grandeur, the
changes which are everywhere worked by its presence ; by its intellectual force
and boldness it has acquired the complete mastery over nature. Let us acknow
ledge the dignity and elevation of our minds to show our gratitude to our Crea
tor, but let us not forget our weakness and defects. Why should w? deceive
ourselves by fancying that we know what we are really ignorant of? Why for
get the inconstancy and variableness of our minds, and conceal the fact, that
with respect to many things, even of those with which we are supposed to be
acquainted, we have but confused ideas? How delusive is our knowledge, and
what exaggerated notions we have of our progress in information ? Does not
one day contradict what another had affirmed ? Time runs its cour?e, laughs

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED V/ITH CATHOLICITY. 4!i

at our predictions, destroys our plans, and clearly shows now vam are our
projects.

What have those geniuses who have descended to the foundations of science,
and risen by the* boldest flights to the loftiest speculations, told us ? Aftei
having reached the utmost limits of the space which it is permitted to the hu
man mind to range over, — after having trodden the most secret paths of science,
and sailed on the vast ocean of moral and physical nature, the greatest minda
of all ages have returned dissatisfied with the results. They have seen a beau
tiful illusion appear before their eyes, — the brilliant image which enchanted
them has vanished ; when they thought they were about to enter a region of
light, they have found themselves surrounded with darkness, and they have
viewed with affright the extent of their ignorance. It is for this reason that
the greatest minds have so little confidence in the strength of the human intel
lect, although they cannot but be fully aware that they are superior to other
men. The sciences, in the profound observation of Pascal, have two extremes
which meet each other : the first is, the pure natural state of ignorance in whic^1
men are at their birth ; the other extreme is, that at which great minds arrive
when, having reached the utmost extent of human knowledge, ihey find that
they know nothing, and that they are still in the same state of ignorance a* at
first. (Penstes, 1 partie, art. 6.)

Catholicism says to man, "Thy intellect is weak, thou hast need of a gu'de
in many things." Protestantism says to him, " Thou art surrounded by ligKl,
walk as thou wilt; thou canst not have a better guide than thyself." Whiib
of the two religions is most in accordance with the lessons of the highest p'li-
losophy ?

It is not, therefore, surprising that the greatest minds among Protestants ha \ro
all felt a Certain tendency towards Catholicism, and have seen the wisdom of
subjecting the human mind, in some things, to the decision of an infallible au
thority. Indeed, if an authority can be found uniting in its origin, its dura
tion, its doctrines, and its conduct, all the characteristics of divinity, why should
the mind refuse to submit to her; and what has it to gain by wandering, at the
mercy of its illusions, on the most serious subjects, in paths where it only mo^ts
with recollections of errors, with warnings and delusions ?

If the human mind has conceived too great an esteem for itself, let it study
its own history, in order to see and understand how little security is to be found
in its own strength. Abounding in systems, inexhaustible in subtilties; as
ready in conceiving a project as incapable of maintaining it; full of ideas which
arise, agitate, and destroy each other, like the insects which abound in lakes ;
now raising itself on the wings of sublime inspiration, and now creeping like a
reptile on the face of the earth ; as able and willing to destroy the works of
others, as it is impotent to construct any durable ones of its own ; urged on
by the violence of passion, swollen with pride, confounded by the infinite
variety of objects which present themselves to it ; confused by so many false
lights and so many deceptive appearances, the human mind, when left entirely
to itself, resembles those brilliant meteors which dart at random through the
immensity of the heavens, assume a thousand eccentric forms, send forth a
thousand sparks, dazzle for a moment by their fantastic splendour, and disappear
without leaving even a reflected light to illuminate the darkness.

Behold the history of man's knowledge! In that immense and ccnfused
heap of truth, error, sublimity, absurdity, wisdom, and folly, are collected the
proofe of my assertions, and to that do I refer any one who may be inclined to
accuse me of having overcharged the picture. (7)

CHAPTER V.

INSTINCT OF FAITH IN THE SCIENCES.

THE truth of what I have just advanced with respect to the weakness of oui
intellect, is proved by the fact that the hand of God has placed at the botton.
of our souls a preservative against the excessive changeability of our minds,
even in things which do not regard religion. Without this preservative all
gocial institutions would be destroyed, or rather never would have had exist
ence ; without it the sciences would not have advanced a step, and when it had
disappeared from the human heart, individuals and society would have been
swallowed up by chaos. I allude to a certain tendency to defer to authority —
to the instinct of faith, if I may so call it — an instinct which we ought to exa
mine with great attention, if we wish to know any thing of the human mind,
and the history of its development.

It has often been observed that it is impossible to comply with the n/ost
urgent necessities, or perform the most ordinary acts of life, without respecting
the authority of the statement of others; it is easy to understand that, without
this faith, all the treasures of history and experience would soon be dissipated,
and that even the foundation of all knowledge would disappear.

These important observations are calculated to show how vain is the charge
against the Catholic religion, of requiring nothing but faith ; but this is not my
only object here ; I wish to present the matter under another aspect, and place
the question in such a position as to make this truth gain in extent and interest,
without losing any thing of its immovable firmness. In looking over the his
tory of human knowledge, and glancing at the opinions of our contemporaries,
we constantly observe that the men who boast the most of their spirit of in
quiry and freedom of thought, only echo the opinions of others. If we examine
with attention that great study which, under the name of science, has made so
much noise in the world, we shall observe that it contains at bottom a large
portion of authority; and that if a perfectly free spirit of inquiry were to be
introduced into it, even with respect to points of pure reason, the greatest part
of the edifice of science would be destroyed, and very few men would remain
in possession of its secrets.

No branch of knowledge, whatever may be the clearness and exactitude < "
which it boasts, is an exception to this rule. Do not the natural- and exact
sciences, rich as they are in evident principles, rigorous in their deductions,
abounding in observation and experience, depend, nevertheless, for a great many
of their truths, upon other, truths of a higher nature ; the knowledge of which
necessarily requires a delicacy of observation, a power of calculation, a clear
and penetrating coup d'ceil, which belongs to few?

When Newton proclaimed to the scientific world the fruit of his profound
calculations, how many of his disciples could natter themselves that they were
able to confirm them by their own convictions ? I do not except from this
question many of those who, by laborious efforts, had been able to comprehend
something of this great man ; they had followed the mathematician in his cal
culations, they had a full knowledge of the mass of facts and experience which
the naturalist exposed to their view; they had listened to the reasons on which
the philosopher rested his conjectures ; in this way they thought that they were
fully convinced, and that they did not owe their assent to any thing but the
force of reason and evidence. Well, take away the name of Newton, efface
from the mind the profound impression made by the authority of the man who
made so extraordinary a discovery, and has employed so much genius in sup
porting it, — take away, I repeat it, the shade of Newton, and you will di ectly
see, in the minds of his disciples, their principles vacillate, their rearoningp be-

.PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 47

•ome less convincing and exact, and their observations appear less in accord aiioa
with the facts. Then, he who thought himself a perfectly impartial observer,
% perfectly independent thinker, will see and understand to how great an extent
he was enthralled by the force of authority, by the ascendency of genius ; h«
will find that, on a variety of points, he assented without being convinced) and
that, instead of being a perfectly independent philosopher, he was only an obe
dient and accomplished pupil.

I appeal with confidence to the testimony, not of the ignorant, not of those
who have only a smattering of scientific knowledge, but of real men of learn
ing, of those who have devoted much time to the various branches of study.
Let them look into their own minds, let them examine anew what they call their
scientific convictions, let them ask themselves, with perfect calmness and impar
tiality, whether, even on those subjects in which they consider themselves the
most advanced, their minds are not frequently controlled by the ascendency of
some author of the first rank. I believe they will be compelled to acknowledge
that, if they strictly applied the method of Descartes even to some of the ques-
4ons which they have studied the most, they would find that they believe rather
than are convinced. Such always has been, and such always will be, the case.
It is a thing deeply rooted in the nature of our minds, and it cannot be pre
vented. Perhaps the regulation is a matter of absolute necessity ; perhaps it
contains much of that instinct of preservation which God, with so much wis
dom, has diffused throughout society ; perhaps it is intended to counteract the
many elements of dissolution which society contains within its bosom. Un
doubtedly, it is often very much to be regretted that men servilely follow in the
footsteps of others, and injurious consequences not unfrequently are the result.
But it would be still worse, if men constantly held themselves in an attitude of
resistance to all others, for fear of deception. Woe to man and to society, i
the philosophic mania of wishing to submit all matters to a rigorous examina
tion were to become general in the world ; and woe to science, if this rigorous
scrupulous, and independent scrutiny were extended to every thing.

I admire the genius of Descartes, and acknowledge tfye signal services which
he has rendered to science ; but I have more than once thought that, if hia
method of doubting became general for any time, society would be destroyed.
And it seems to me that, among learned men themselves, among impartial
philosophers, this method would do great harm ; at least, it may be supposed
that the number of men devoid of sense in the scientific world would be consi
derably increased.

Happily there is no danger of this being the case. If it be true that there
is always in man a certain tendency towards folly, there is also always to be found
there a fund of good sense which cannot be destroyed. When certain indivi
duals of heated imaginations attempt to involve society in their delirium, society
answers with a smile of derision ; or if it allows itself to be seduced for A
moment, it soon returns to its senses, and repels with indignatioD those who
have endeavored to lead it astray. Passionate declamation against vulgar pre
judice, against docility in following others and willingness to believe all without
examination, is only considered as worthy of contempt by those who are inti
mately acquainted with human nature Are not these feelings participated in
by many who belong not to the vulgar? Are not the sciences full cf gratui
tous suppositions, and have they not their weak points, with which, however,
we are satisfied, as if they afforded a firm basis to rest upon ?

The right of possession and prescription is also one of the peculiarities which
the sciences present to us ; and it is well worthy of remark that, without evei
having borne the name, this right has been acknowledged by a tacit but unani
mous consent. How can this be ? Study the history of the sciences, and you
will find at every step this right acknowledged and established. How is it

48 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

amid the continual disputes which have divided philosophers, thac we see an old
opinion make a long resistance to a new one, and sometimes succeed in pre«
venting its establishment ? It is because the old opinion was in possession, and
was strengthened by the right of prescription. It is of no importance that £he
words were not used, the result was the same ; this is the reason why discoverers
have so often been despised, opposed, and even persecuted.

It is necessary to make this avowal, although it may be repugnant to our
pride, and may scandalize some sincere admirers of the. progress of knowledge
These advances have been numerous ; the field over which the human mind haa
exercised itself, and its sphere of action, are immense ; the works by which it
has proved its power are admirable ; but there is always in all this a large por
tion of exaggeration, and it is necessary to make a considerable allowance,
especially in the moral sciences. It cannot justly be inferred, from these
exaggerated statements, that our intellect is capable of advancing in every path
with perfect ease and activity ; no deduction can be drawn from it to contradict
the fact which we have just established, viz. the mind of man is almost alway*
in subjection, even imperceptibly, to the authority of other men.

In every age there appear a small number of privileged spirits, who, by
nature superior to all the rest, serve as guides in the various careers ; a nurnu-
rous crowd, who think themselves learned, follow them with precipitation, and,
fixing their eyes on the standard which has been raised, rush breathlessly aftor
it; and yet, strange as it is, they all boast of their independence, and flatter
themselves that they are distinguishing themselves by pursuing the new path;
one would imagine that they had discovered it, and that they were walking in
it guided by their own light and inspirations. Necessity, taste, or a thousand
other circumstances, lead us to cultivate this or that branch of knowledge ; our
own weakness constantly tells us that we have no creative power; that we can
not produce any thing of our own, and that w,e are incapable of striking out a
new path ; but we flatter ourselves that we share some part of the glory belong
ing to the illustrious chief whose banner we follow ; we sometimes will succeed
in persuading ourselves, in the midst of these reveries, that we do not fight
under anybody's standard, and that we are only rendering homage to our own
convictions, when, in reality, we are the proselytes of others.

Herein common sense shows itself to be wiser than our weak reason ; and
thus language, which gives such deep expression to things, where we find, with
out knowing whence they come, so much truth and exactitude, gives us a severe
admonition on the subject of these vain pretensions. In spite of us, language
calls things by their right names, and knows how to class us and our opinions
according to the leader that we follow. What is the history of science but the
history of the contests of a small number of illustrious men ? If we glance
over ancient and modern times, and bring into view the various branches of
knowledge, we shall see a number of schools founded by a philosopher of the
orst rank, and then falling under the direction of another whose talents have
made him worthy to succeed the founder. Thus the thing goes on, until circum
stances having changed, or the spirit of vitality being gone, the school dies a
natural death, unless a man of bold and independent mind appears, who take*
the old school and destroys it, in order to establish his own doctrines on the ruins.

When Descartes dethroned Aristotle, did he not immediately take his place ?
Then philosophers pretended to independence — an independence which was con
tradicted by the very name they bore, that of Cartesians. Like nations who,
in times of rebellion, cry out for liberty, dethrone their old king, and after
wards submit to the first man who has the boldness to seize the vacant throne.

It is thought in our age/as it has been in times gone by, that the human mind
acts with perfect indc pendence, owing to declamation against authority in scien
tific matters, and the exaltation of the freedom of thought. The opinion has

PROTESTANTISM COiMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 4Sl

become general that, in these times, the authority of any one man is wortt
nothing ; it has been thought that every man of learning acts according to hi?
own convictions alone. Moreover, systems and hypotheses have lost all credit,
and a great desire for examination and analysis has become prevalent. This has
made people believe not only that authority in scientific matters is completely
gone, but that it is henceforth impossible.

At first sight there appears to be some truth in this ; but if we look atten
tively around us, we shall observe that the number of leaders is only somewhat
increased, and the time of their command somewhat shortened. Our age is
truly one of commotions, literary and scientific revolutions, like those in poli
tics, where nations imagine that they possess more liberty because the govern
ment is placed in the hands of a greater number of persons, and because they
find more facility in getting rid of their rulers. They destroy those men to
whom but a short time before they have given the names of fathers and libera
tors; then, the first transport being passed, they allow other men to impose upon
them a yoke in reality not less heavy. Besides the examples afforded us by the
history of the past century, at the present day we see only great names succeed
each other, and the leaders of the human mind take each other's places.

In the field of politics, where one would imagine the spirit of freedom ought
to have full scope, do we not see men who take the lead ; and are they not
looked upon as the generals of an army during a campaign? In the parlia
mentary arena, do we see any thing but two or three bodies of combatants, per
forming their evolutions under their respective chiefs with perfect regularity and
discipline ? These truths are well understood by those who occupy these high
positions ! They are acquainted with our weakness, and they know that men
are commonly deceived by mere words. A thousand times must they have been
tempted to smile, when, contemplating the field of their triumphs, and seeing
themselves surrounded by followers who, proud of their own intelligence, admire
and applaud them, they have heard one of the most ardent of their disciples
boast of his unlimited freedom of thought, and of the complete independence
of his opinions and his votes.

Such is man, as shown to us by history and the experience of every day. The
inspiration of genius, that sublime force which raises the minds of some privi
leged men, will always exercise, not only over the ignorant, but even, over the
generality of men who devote themselves to science, a real fascination. Where,
then,. is the insult which the Catholic religion offers to reason when, presenting
titles which prove her divinity, she asks for that faith which men grant^so
easily to other men in matters of various kinds, and even in things with which
they consider themselves to be the best acquainted ? Is it an insult to human
reason to point out to him a fixed and certain rule with respect to matters of
the greatest importance, while, on the other hand, she leaves him perfectly free
to think as he pleases on all the various questions which God has left to his
discretion ? In this the Church only shows herself to be in accordance with
the lessons of the highest philosophy. She shows a profound knowledge of the
human mind, and she delivers it from all the evils which are inflicted by its
fickleness, its inconstancy, and its ambition, combined as these qualities are
with an extraordinary tendency to defer to the opinions of individuals. ^ Who
does not see that the Catholic Church puts thereby a check on the spirit of
proselytism, of which society has had so much reason to complain? Since
there is in man this irresistible tendency to follow the footsteps of another, does
she not confer an eminent service on humanity, by showing it a sure way of
following the example of a God incarnate ? Does she not thus take human
liberty under her protection, and at the same time save from shipwreck those
branches of knowledge which are the most necessary to individuals and to
society ? (8)

CHAPTER VI.

DIFFEKENCES IN THE RELIGIOUS WANTS OF NATIONS MATHEMATICS-
MORAL SCIENCES.

THE progress of society, and the high degree of civilization and refinement
to which modern nations have attained, will no doubt be urged against the au
thority which seeks to exercise jurisdiction over the mind. In this way men
will attempt to justify what they call the emancipation of the human mind.
For my own part, this objection seems to have so little solidity, and to be so
little supported by facts, that, from the progress of society, I should, on the
contrary, conclude that there is the more need of that living rule which is
deemed indispensable by Catholics.

To say that society in its infancy and youth may have required this authority
as a check, but that this check has become useless and degrading since the hu
man mind has reached a higher degree of development, is completely to mistake
the connection which exists between the various conditions of our mind and the
objects over which this authority extends. The true idea of God, the origin,
the end, and the rule of human conduct, together with all the means with which
God has furnished us to attain to our high destiny, such are the subjects with
which faith deals, and with respect to which Catholics contend that it is neces
sary to have an infallible rule. They maintain that without this it would bo
impossible to avoid the most lamentable errors, and to protect truth from the
effects of human passions.

This consideration will suffice to show, that private judgment would be much
less dangerous among nations still less advanced in the career of civilization.
There is, indeed, in a young nation, a great fund of natural candor and simpli
city, which admirably disposes it to receive with docility the instructions con
tained in the sacred volume. Such a people will relish those things which are
easily to J>e understood, and will bow with humility before the sublime obscurity
of those pages which it has pleased God to cover with a veil of mystery. More
over, the condition of this people, as yet exempt from the pride of knowledge,
would create a sort of authority, since there would be found within its bosom
only a small number of men able to examine divine revelation ; and thus a
centre for the distribution of instruction would be naturally formed.

But it is far otherwise with a nation far advanced in the career of knowledge.
With the latter, the extension of knowledge to a greater number of individuals,
by augmenting pride and fickleness, multiplies sects, and ends by revolution-
izing ideas and corrupting the purest traditions. A young nation is devoted to
simple occupations ; it remains attached to its ancient customs ; it listens with
respect and docility to the aged, who, surrounded by their children and grand
children, relate with emotion the histories and the maxims which they have re
ceived from their ancestors. But when society has reached a great degree of
development, when respect for the fathers of families and veneration for gray
hairs have become weakened; when pompous titles, scientific display, and grand
libraries make men conceive a high idea of their intellectual powers ; when the
nriltitude and activity of communications widely diffuse those ideas, which,
when put in motion, have an almost magical power of affecting men's minds,
then it is necessary, — it is indispensable to have an authority, always living,
always ready to act whenever it is wanted, — to cover with a protecting segis the
sacred deposit of truths which are the same in all times and places; truths
without the knowledge of which man would be left to the mercy of his own
errors and caprices from the cradle to the grave; truths on which society i-esta
as its surest foundation ; truths which cannot be destroyed without shaking to
pieces tie whole social edifice. The literary and political history of Europe foi

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 51

the last three hundred years affords but too many proofs of this. Religious
revolution broke out at the moment when it was capable of doing the most
harm : it found society agitated by all the activity of the human mind, and it
destroyed the control when it was most necessary.

Undoubtedly, it is necessary to guard against depreciating the mind of man
by charging it with faults which it has not, or by exaggerating those which it
has ; but it is no less improper to puff it up by exalting its strength too much.
The latter would be injurious to it in several ways, and would be little likely to
advance its progress , it would also, if properly understood, be little conforma
ble to that gravity and discretion which ought to distinguish true science. In-
doed, to merit the name, science ought to show the folly of being vain of what
does not rightly belong to it ; it ought to know its limits, and have sufficient
sandor and generosity to acknowledge its weakness.

There is a fact in the history of science, which, by revealing the intrinsic
weakness of the mind, palpably shows the flattery of those unmeasured eulogies
which are sometimes lavished on it, and also demonstrates to us how dangerous
it would be to abandon it to itself without any guide This fact is, the obscu
rity which increases in proportion as we approach the first principles of science;
so that even in those sciences the truth, evidence, and exactness of which are
considered the best established, it seems that no firm ground is to be obtained
when we attempt to go to the bottom of them ; and the mind, not finding any
security, recoils in the fear of meeting with something to throw doubt and un
certainty on the truths of which it was convinced.

I do not participate in the ill-humor of Hobbes against the mathematics.
Devoted to their progress, and deeply convinced as I am of the advantages
which their study confers on the other sciences and on society, I shall not at
tempt to underrate their merit, or deny any of their great claims ; but who can
pay that they are an exception to the general rule ? Have they not their weak
points and their darksome paths ?

It is true that, when we confine ourselves to the explanation of the first prin
ciples of these sciences, and the deduction from them of the most elementary
propositions, the mind is on firm ground, where no fear of making a false step
occurs to it. I put aside at present the obscurity which would be found in
idealogy and metaphysics, if they were to discuss certain points according to the
writings of the most distinguished philosophers. Let us confine ourselves to
the circle to which the mathematics are naturally confined. Who that has
studied them is ignorant that you may reach a point in their theories, where the
mind finds nothing but obscurity ? The demonstration is before our eyes ; it
has been developed in all its parts ; and yet the mind wavers, feeling within
itself a kind of uncertainty which it cannot well describe. It sometimes hap
pens that, after reasoning a long time, the truth rushes upon us like the light
of day ; but it is not until we have walked in darkness for a long period. When
we fix our attention upon those thoughts which wander in our minds like mov
ing lights, on tjiose almost imperceptible emotions which, on these occasions,
arise, and then die away in the soul, we observe that the mind, in the midst of
its fluctuations, seeks instinctively for the anchor which is to be found in the
authority of another. To reassure ourselves completely, we then invoke the
authority of some great mathematicians, and we rejoice that the fact is placed
beyond a doubt by the series of great men who have always viewed it in the
same light. But perhaps our ignorance and pride will not admit the truth of
these reflections. Let us, then, study these sciences, or at least read their his
tory, and we shall be convinced that they afford numerous proofs of the weak
ness of the intellect.

Did not the extraordinary invention of Newton and Leibnitz find many oppo
nents in Europe ? Were there not required to establish it, both the sanction o*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WIT^I CATHOLICITY.

time and the touchstone of experience, which made manifest the truth of then
principles and the exactness of their reasonings ? Do you believe that, if this
invention were again, for the first time, to make its appearance in the field of
science, even fortified with all the proofs which have been brought forward to
strengthen it, and surrounded with all the light which so many explanation!
have shed upon it, — do you believe, I say, that it would not need a second time
the right of prescription, to regain its tranquil and undisturbed empire ?

It is easy to suppose that the other sciences have no little share in this uncer
tainty arising from the weakness of the human mind ; as I do not imagine that
this assertion will be called in question, I pass on to a few remarks on the
peculiar character of the moral sciences.

The fact has not been sufliciently attended to, that there is no study more
deceptive than that of the moral sciences ; I say deceptive, because this study,
seducing the mind by an appearance of facility, draws it into difficulties which
it is no easy matter to overcome. It may be compared to those tranquil waters
which, although apparently but shallow, are in reality unfathomably deep.
Familiarized from our infancy with the language of this science, surrounded by
its continual applications, and having before our eyes its truths under a palpable
form, we possess a certain facility of speaking readily on many parts of the
subject; and we have the rashness to suppose that it would not be difficult tc
master its highest principles and its most delicate relations. But wonderful as
it is, scarcely have we quitted the path of common sense, and attempted to go
beyond those simple impressions which we have received from our mothers,
when we find ourselves in a labyrinth of confusion. If the mind gives itself
up to subtil ties, it ceases to listen to the voice of the heart, which speaks to it
with equal simplicity and eloquence ; if it does not repress its pride, and attend
to the wise counsels of good sense, it will be guilty of despising those salutary
and necessary truths, which have been preserved by society to be transmitted
from generation to generation : it is then, while groping its way in the dark,
that it falls into the wildest extravagances, the lamentable effects of which are
so often exemplified in the history of the sciences.

If we observe attentively, we shall find something of the same kind in all the
sciences. The Creator has taken care to supply us with knowledge necessary
for the purposes of life, and for the attainment of our destiny ; but it has not
pleased Him to gratify our curiosity by discovering to us what was not neces
sary. Nevertheless, in some things he has communicated to the mind a power
which renders it capable of constantly adding to its knowledge; but, with
respect to moral truths, it has been left sterile. What man is required to know,
has been deeply engraven on his heart, in characters simple and intelligible; or
is contained in the sacred volume ; and moreover, he has had pointed out to
him, in the authority of the Church, a fixed rule, to which he can apply to have
his doubts explained. With respect to the rest, man has been placed in such a
position, that if he attempt to enter into matters which are too subtle, he only
wanders backwards and forwards in the same road, at the extremities of which
he finds on the one side skepticism, on the other pure truth.

Perhaps some modern idealogists will urge, in opposition to this, the result
of their own analytical labours. " Before men began to analyze facts," they
will say, " and while they indulged in fanciful systems, and satisfied themselves
with verbal disputes without critical examination, all this might be true; but
now that we have explained all the ideas of moral good and evil, in so perfect
a way, and have separated the prejudice in them from the true philosophy; now
that the whole system of morality is based upon the simple principles of plea
sure and pain, and we have given the clearest ideas of these things, such, for ex-
ample, as the sensations produced in us by an orange; to maintain your assertion!
us to be ungrateful towards science, and to underrate the fruit of our labours."

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

I am aware of the labours of some moral idealogists, and I know with what
deceptive simplicity they develope their theories, by giving to the most difficult
things an easy turn, which affects to make them intelligible to the most limited
minds. This is not the place to examine these analytical investigations, and
their results. I shall, however, remark that, in spite of their promised sim
plicity, it does not appear that either society or science makes much progress
through their means, and that these opinions, although but a short time broached,
are already superannuated. This is not a matter of astonishment to us; for it
was easy to perceive that, in spite of their positiveness, if I may be allowed to
use the expression, these idealogists are as hypothetical as many of their prede
cessors, who are loaded by them with sarcasms and contempt. They are a poor,
narrow-minded school, devoid of the truth, and not even adorned by the brilliant
dreams of great men ; a proud and deluded school, who fancy they explain a
fact, when they only obscure it ; and prove a thing, when they only assert it ;
and imagine that 'they analyze the human heart, when they take it to pieces.

If such is the human mind; if such is its inability in matters of science,
whether physical or moral, that it has not advanced a single step beyond the
limit prescribed by a beneficent Providence ; what service has Protestantism
rendered to modern society, by impairing the force of authority, that power
which could alone present an effectual barrier to man's unhappy wander
ings? (9)

CHAPTER VII.

INDIFFERENCE AND FANATICISM.

IN rejecting the authority of the Church, and in adopting this resistance as
its only principle, Protestantism was compelled to seek its whole ^ support in
man ; thus to mistake the true character of the human mind, and its relations
with religious and moral truth, was to throw itself, according to circumstances,
into the opposite extremes of fanaticism and indifference.

li may seem strange that these opposite errors should emanate from the same
source ; and yet nothing is more certain. Protestantism, by appealing to man
alone in religious matters, had only two courses to adopt; either to suppose
men to be inspired by Heaven for the discovery of truth, or to subject all reli
gious truths to the examination of reason. To submit religious truths to the
judgment of reason was sooner or later to produce indifference ; on the other
hand, private, inspiration must engender fanaticism.

There is a universal and constant fact in the history of the human mind-
viz, its decided inclination to invent systems in which the reality of things is
completely laid aside, and where we only see the workings of a spirit which has
chosen to quit the ordinary path in order to give itself up to its own inspira
tions. The history of philosophy is little else than a perpetual repetition of
this phenomenon, which the human mind shows, in some shape or other, in all
things which admit of it. When the mind has conceived a peculiar idea, it
regards it with that blind and exclusive predilection which is found in the love
of the father for his children. Under the influence of this prejudice, the mind
developes its ideas and accommodates facts to suit it ; that which at first was
only an ingenious and extravagant idea, becomes the germ of important doc
trines ; and if it arise in a person of an ardent disposition, fanaticism, the cause
of so much madness, is t 13 consequence.

The danger is very - <.-h increased when the new system applies to religious
matters, or is L l^ly connected with them. The extravaf—

diseased mind are a looked upon as inspirations from Heaven ;,

n2

64 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

delirium as a divine flame ; and a mania of being singular as an extraordinary
vocation. Pride, unable to brook opposition, rises against all that it finds esta
blished ; it insults all authority ; it attacks all institutions ; it despises every
body ; it conceals the grossest violence under the mantle of zeal, and ambition
under the name of apostleship. The dupe of himself rather than an impostor,
the wretched maniac sometimes becomes deeply persuaded that his doctrines are
true, and that he has received the commands of Heaven. As there is some
thing extraordinary and striking in the fiery language of the madman, he com
municates to those who listen to him a portion of his insanity, and makes, in a
short time, a considerable number of proselytes. The men capable of playing
the first part in this scene of madness are not numerous, it is true; but unhap
pily the majority of men are foolish enough to be easily led away. History and
experience sufficiently prove that the crowd are easily attracted, and that to form
a party, however criminal, extravagant, or ridiculous, it is only necessary to
raise a standard.

I wish to take this opportunity of making an observation which I have never
seen pointed out — viz. that the Church, in her contest with heresy, has ren
dered an important service to the science which devotes itself to the examina
tion of the true character, tendency, and power of the human mind. The zeal
ous guardian of all great truths, she has always known how to preserve them
unimpaired ; she was fully acquainted with the weakness of the mind of man,
and its extreme proneness to folly and extravagance ; she has followed it closely
in all its steps, has watched it in all its movements, and has constantly resisted
it with energy, when it attempted to pollute the pure fountain of which she is
the guardian. During the long and violent contests which she has had with it,
the Church has made manifest its incurable folly; she has exhibited it on every
side, and has shown it in all its forms Thus it is that, in the history of here
sies, she has made an abundant collection of facts, and has painted an extremely
interesting picture of the human mind, where its characteristic physiognomy is
faithfully represented ; a picture which will doubtless be of great service in the
composition of the important work which is yet unwritten — viz. the true his
tory of the human mind. (10)

Certain it is that the ravings and extravagances of fanaticism have not been
wanting in the history of Europe for the last three hundred years. Their mo
numents still remain ; in whatever direction we turn our steps, we find bloody
traces of the fanatical sects produced by Protestantism, and engendered by its
fundamental principle. Nothing could confine this devastating torrent, neither
the violent character of Luther, nor the furious efforts which he made to oppose
every one who taught doctrines different from his own. Impiety succeeded im
piety, extravagance extravagance, fanaticism fanaticism. The pretended Refor
mation was soon divided into as many sects as there were found men with the
ingenuity to invent and the boldness to maintain a system of their own. This
was necessarily the case ; for besides the danger of leaving the human mind
without a guide on all questions of religion, there was another cause fruitful in
fatal results, I mean the private interpretation of the sacred books.

It was then found that the best things may be abused, and that these divine
volumes, which contain so much instruction for the mind, and so much consola
tion for the ncart, are full of danger to the proud. How great will this be, if
you add to the obstinate resolution of resisting all authority in matters of faith,
the false persuasion that the meaning of the Scriptures is everywhere clear, and
that, in all cases, the inspirations of Heaven may be expected to solve every
doubt ? What will happen to those who turn over their pages with a longing
desire to find some text which, more or less tortured, may seem to authorize their
wphisms, subtilties, and absurdities ?

There never was a greater mistake than that which was committed by th«

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 55

Protestant leaders, when they placed the Bible in the hands of all for self-inter-
pretation ; never was the nature of that sacred volume more completely lost
sight of. It is true that Protestantism had no other method to- pursue, and that
every objection which it could make to the private interpretation of the sacred
text would be a striking inconsistency, an apostasy from its own principles, and
a denial of its own origin; but at the game time, this is its most decided con
demnation. What claim, indeed, can that religion have to truth and sanctity
whose fundamental principle contains the germ of sects the most fanatical — the
most injurious to society'/

It would be difficult to collect into so narrow a space, in opposition to this
essential error of Protestantism, so many facts and convincing proofs of this, as
are contained in the following lines, written by a Protestant, O'Callaghan,
which, I have no doubt, my readers will thank me for quoting here. " Led
away/' says O'Callaghan, "by their spirit of opposition to the Church of
Rome, the first Reformers loudly proclaimed the right of interpreting the Scrip
tures according to each one's private judgment; but in their eagerness to eman
cipate the people from the authority of the Pope, they proclaimed this right
without explanation or restriction : and the consequences were fearful. Impa
tient to undermine the papal jurisdiction, they maintained without exception,
that each individual has an incontestable right to interpret the Scriptures for
himself; and as this principle, carried to the fullest extent, was not sustainable,
they were obliged to rely for support upon another, viz. that the Bible is an
easy book, within the comprehension of all minds, and that the divine revela
tions contained in it are always clear to all ; two propositions which, whether
we consider them together or apart, cannot withstand a serious attack.

" The private judgment of Muncer found in the Scriptures that titles of no
bility and great estates are impious usurpations, contrary to the natural equality
of the faithful, and he invited his followers to examine if this were not the
case. They examined into the matter, praised God, and then proceeded by fire
and sword to extirpate the impious and possess themselves of their properties,
private judgment made the discovery in the Bible that established laws were
a permanent restriction on Christian liberty; and, behold, John of Leyden,
throwing away his tools, put himself at the head of a mob of fanatics, Surprised
the town of Munster, proclaimed himself king of Sion, and took fourteen wives
at a time, asserting that polygamy is Christian liberty, and the privilege of the
saints. But if the criminal madness of these men in another country is afflict
ing to the friends of humanity and of real piety, certainly the history of Eng
land, during a great part of the seventeenth century, is not calculated to con
sole them. During that period an immense number of fanatics appeared, some
times together and sometimes in succession, intoxicated with extravagant doc
trines and mischievous passions, from the fierce ravings of Fox to the more
methodical madness of Barclay ; from the formidable fanaticism of Cromwell to
the silly profanity of ' Praise God Barebones/ Piety, reason, and good sense
seemed to be extinct on earth, and to be succeeded by an extravagant jargon, a
religious frenzy, and a zeal without discretion. All quoted the Scriptures, all
pretended to have had inspirations, visions, and spiritual ecstasies, and all, in-
aeed, had equal claims to them. It was strongly maintained that it was proper
to abolish the priesthood and the royal dignity, because priests were the minis
ters of Satan, and kings the delegates of the whore of Babylon, and that the
existence of both were inconsistent with the reign of the Redeemer. The fana
tics condemned science as a Pagan invention, and universities as seminaries of
antichristian impiety. Bishops were not protected by the sanctity of their
functions, or kings by the majesty of the throne ; both, as objects of contempt
and hatred, were mercilessly put to death by these fanatics, whose only book
was the Bible, without noto or comment. During this time, the enthusiasm fc*

56 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

prayer, preaching, and the reading of the sacred books was at the highest point,
everybody prayed, preached, and read, but nobody listened. The greatest atro
cities were justified by the Scriptures; in the most ordinary transactions of life,
scriptural language was made use of; national affairs, foreign and domestic,
were discussed in the phraseology of Holy Writ. There were scriptural plots
conspiracies, and proscriptions ; and all this was not only justified but even
sanctified by quotations from the word of God. These facts, attested by his
tory, have ^often astonished and alarmed men of virtue and piety, but the reader
too inuch imbued with his own ideas, forgets the lesson to be learnt by this fated
experience; namely, that the Bible without note or comment was not intended ic
be read by rude and ignorant men.

"The majority of mankind must be content to receive the instructions of
others, and are not enabled to trust themselves. The most important truths in
medicine, in jurisprudence, in physics, in mathematics, must be received from
those who drink at the fountain head. The same plan has in general been pur
sued with respect to Christianity ; and whenever the departure from it has beer
wide enough, <• society has foen shaken to its foundation.' "

These words of O'Callaghan do not require any comment. It cannot be said
that they are hyperbolical or declamatory, as they are only a simple and faithful
narration of acknowledged facts. The recollection of these events should suffice
to prove the danger of placing the sacred Scriptures, without note or comment,
into ^ the hands of all, as Protestantism does, under the pretence, that the au
thority of the Church is useless for understanding the holy books ; and that
every Christian has only to listen to the dictates which generally emanate from
his passions and heated imagination. By this error alone, if it had committed
no other, Protestantism is self-reproved and condemned; for it is a religion
which has established a principle destructive to itself. In order to appreciate
the madness of Protestantism on this point, and to see how false and dangerous
is the position which it has assumed with regard to the human mind, it is not
necessary to be a theologian, or a Catholic ; it is enough to have read the Scrip-
tures with the eyes of a philosopher or a man of literature. Here is a book
which comprises, within a limited compass, the period of four thousand years,
and advances further towards the most distant future, by embracing the origin
and destiny of man and the universe— a book which, with the continued his
tory of a chosen people, intermingles, in its narrations and prophecies, the re
volutions of mighty empires— a book which, side by side with the magnificent
pictures of the power and splendor of Eastern monarchs, describes, in simple
colors, the plain domestic manners, the candor, and innocence of a young
nation— a book in which historians relate, sages proclaim their maxims of wis
dom, apostles preach, and doctors instruct— a book in which prophets, under
the influence of the divine Spirit, thunder against the errors and corruptions of
the people, and announce the vengeance of the God of Sinai, or pour forth in
consolable lamentations on the captivity of their brethren, and the desolation
htude of their country; where they relate, in wonderful and sublime lan
guage, the magnificent spectacles which are presented to their eyes; where, in
moments of ecstasy, they see pass before them the events of society and the
atastrophes of nature, although veiled in mysterious figures and visions of ob
scurity— a book, or rather a collection of books, where are to be found all sorts
of styles and all varieties of narrative, epic majesty, pastoral simplicity, lyric
ire, serious instruction, grave historical narrative, and lively and rapid dramatic
action ; a collection of books, in fine, written at various times and in various
languages, m various countries, and under the most peculiar and extraordinary
circumstances. Must not all this confuse the heads of men who, puffed up with
their own conceit, grope through these pages in the dark, ignorant of climates,
fames, laws, customs, and manners ? They will be puzzled by allusions sur

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 57

prised by images, deceived by expressions; they will hear the Greek and He-
brew, which was written in those remote ages, now spoken in a modern idiom.
What effects must all these circumstances produce on the minds of readers who
believe that the Bible is an easy book, to be understood without difficulty by
all ? Persuaded that they do not require the instructions of others, they musl
2ither resolve all these difficulties by their own reflections, or trust to that iiidi
vidual inspiration which they believe will not be wanting to explain to them
the loftiest mysteries. Who, after this, can be astonished that Protestantism
has produced so many absurd visionaries and furious fanatics ? (11)

CHA'PTER VIII.

FANATICISM— ITS DEFINITION.— FANATICISM IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

IT would be unjust to charge a religion with falsehood, merely because fanatics,
ire to be found within its bosom. This would be to reject all, because none are
•jo be found exempt from them. A religion, then, is not to be condemned
because it has them, but because it produces them, urges them on, and opens a
field for them. If we observe closely, we shall find at the bottom of the human
heart an abundant bource of fanaticism ; the history of man affords us many
proofs of this incontestable truth. Imagine whatever delusion you please,
relate the most extravagant visions, invent the most absurd system, if you only
take care to give to all a religious coloring, you may be sure that you will have
enthusiastic followers, who will heartily devote themselves to the propagation
of your doctrines, and will espouse your cause blindly and ardently ; in other
words, you will have under your standard a troop of fanatics.

Philosophers have devoted many pages to declamation against fanaticism;
they have, as it were, assumed the mission of banishing it from the earth.
They have tired mankind with philosophical lectures, and have thundered
against the monster with all the vigor of their eloquence. They used the word,
however, in so wide a sense as to include all kind of religion. But, if they
had confined themselves to attacking real fanaticism, I believe they would have
done much better if they had devoted some time to the examination of this mat
ter in an analytic spirit, and had treated it, after so doing, maturely, calmly,
and without prejudice.

Inasmuch as these philosophers were aware that fanaticism is a natura
infirmity of the human mind, they could, if they were men of sense and wis
dom, have had little hope of banishing the accursed monster from the world by
reasoning and eloquence j for I am not aware that, up to the present time, phi-
' losophy has remedied any of the important evils that afflict humanity. Among
the numerous errors of the philosophy of the eighteenth century, one of the
principal was the mania for types ; there was formed in the mind a type of the
nature of man,. of society, in a word, of every thin^ and every thing that
could not be adjusted to this type, every thing that could not be moulded into
the required form, was so subjected to the fury of philosophers, as to make it
certain, at least, that the want of pliability did not go unpunished.

But do I mean to deny the existence of fanaticism in the world ?
much of it. Do I deny that it is an evil ? It is a very great one. Can it bo
extirpated ? It cannot. How can its extent be diminished, its force weakened,
and its violence checked? By directing man wisely. Can this be done by
philosophy ? We shall presently see. What is the origin of fanaticism ( Wo
must begin by defining the real meaning of the word. By fanaticism is meant,
taking the word in its widest signification, the strong excitement of a mn
powerfully acted on by a false or exaggerated opinion. If the opinion be true.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

if it be confincxl within just limits, there is no fanaticism ; or, if there It any
it is only with respect to the means employed in defending the opinion. But iu
that case there is an erroneous judgment, since it is believed that the truth of
the opinion authorizes the means ; that is to say, there is already error or exag
geration. If a true opinion be sustained by legitimate means, if the occasion
be opportune, whatever may be the excitement or effervescence of mind, what-
ever may be the energy of the efforts and the sacrifices made, then there is
enthusiasm of mind and heroism of action, but no fanaticism. Were it other
wise, the heroes of all times and countries might be stigmatized as fanatics.

Fanaticism, in this general sense, extends to all the subjects which occupy
the human mind; thus there are fanatics in religion, in politics, even in science
and literature. Nevertheless, according to etymology and custom, the word is
properly applied to religious matters only ; therefore the word, when used alone,
means fanaticism in religion, whilst, when applied to other things, it is always
accompanied by a qualifying epithet; thus we say political fanatics, literary
fanatics, &c.

There is no doubt that in religious matters men have a strong tendency tc
give themselves to a dominant idea, which they desire to communicate to all
around them, and propagate everywhere. They sometimes go so far as to attempt
this by the most violent means. The same fact appears, to a certain extent, in
other matters ; but it acquires in religious things a character different from what
it assumes elsewhere. It is there that the human mind acquires increased force,
frightful energy, and unbounded expansion; there are no more difficulties,
obstacles, or fetters ; material interests entirely disappear ; the greatest suffer
ings acquire a charm ; torments are nothing ; death itself is a seductive illusion.

This phenomenon varies with individuals, with ideas, with the manners of the
nation in whose bosom it is produced ; but at bottom it is always the same. If
we examine the matter thoroughly, we shall find that the violences of the fol
lowers of Mahomet, and the extravagant disciples of Fox, have a common
origin.

It is with this passion as with all others ; when they produce great evils, it
is because they deviate from their legitimate objects, or because they strive at
those objects by means which are not conformable to the dictates of reason and
prudence. Fanaticism, then, rightly understood, is nothing but misguided reli
gious feeling; a feeling which man has within him from the cradle to the tomb,
and which is found to be diffused throughout society in all periods of its exist
ence. Vain have been the efforts made up to this time to render men irreligious;
a few individuals may give themselves up to the folly of complete irreligion ; but
the human race always protests against those who endeavor to stifle the senti
ment of religion. Now this feeling is so strong and active, it exercises so
unbounded an influence on man, that no sooner has it been diverted from its
legitimate object, and quitted the right path, than it is seen to produce lament
able results; then it is that two causes, fertile in great disasters, are found in
combination, complete blindness of the understanding and irresistible energy
of the will.

In declaiming against fanaticism, many Protestants and philosophers have
thought proper to throw a large share of blame on the Catholic Church ; cer
tainly they ought to have been more moderate in this respect if their philosophy
had been good. It is true the Church cannot boast of having cured all the
follies of man ; she cannot pretend to have banished fanaticism so completely
as not to have some faratics among her children; but she may justly boast that
no religion b^. taken more effectual means of curing the evil. It may, more
over, be affi rmed, that she has taken her measures so well, that when it does
make its appearance, she confines it within such limits that it may exiat for 9
tinote, but cannot produce very dangerous results.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 59

Its mental errors and delirious dreams, which, if encouraged, lead men tc the
commission of the greatest extravagances and the most horrible crimes, are
kept under control when the mind possesses a salutary conviction of its own
weakness and a respect for infallible authority. If they be not extinguished
at their birth, at least they remain in a state of isolation, they do not injure
the deposit of true doctrine, and the ties which unite all the faithful as mem
bers of the same body are not broken. With respect to revelations, visions,
prophecies, and ecstasies, as long as they preserve a private character and do
not affect the truths of faith, the Church, generally speaking, tolerates them
and abstains from interference, leaving the discussion of the facts to criticism,
and allowing the faithful an entire liberty of thinking as they please ; but if
the affair assumes a more important aspect, if the visionary calls in question
points of doctrine, she immediately shows her vigilance. Attentive to every
voice raised against the instructions of her Divine Master, she fixes an observant
eye on th^ innovator. She examines whether he be a man deceived in matters
of doctrine or a wolf in sheep's clothing j she raises her warning voice, she
points out to all the faithful the error or the danger, and the voice of the Shep
herd recalls the wandering sheep ; but if he refuse to listen to her, and prefer
to follow his own caprices, she separates him from the flock, and declares him
to resemble the wolf. From that moment all those who are sincerely desirous
of continuing in the bosom of the Church, can no more be infected with the
error.

Undoubtedly, Protestants will reproach Catholics with the number of visiona
ries who have existed in the Church ; they will recall the revelations and visions
of a great number of saints who are venerated on our altars ; they will accuse
us of fanaticism, — a fanaticism, they will say, which, far from being limited in
its effects to a narrow circle, has been able to produce the most important re
sults. " Do not the founders of religious orders alone," they will say, " afford
us a spectacle of a long succession of fanatics, who, self-deluded, exercised upon
others, by_ their words and example, the greatest fascination that was ever seen?"

As this is not the place to enlarge upon the subject of religious communities,
which I propose to do in another part of this work, I shall content myself with
the observation, that even supposing that all the visions and revelations of our
sainfc and the heavenly inspirations with which the founders of religious orders
believed themselves to have been favored were delusions, our opponents would
not be in any way justified in throwing on the Church the reproach of fanati
cism. And, first, it is easy to see that, as far as individual visions are con
cerned, as long as they are thus limited, there may be delusion, or, if you will,
fanaticism j but this fanaticism will not be injurious to any one, or create con
fusion in society. If a poor woman believe herself to be peculiarly favoured
by Heaven, if she fancy that she hears the words of the Blessed Virgin, that
she converses with angels who bring her messages from God, all this may excite
the credulity of some and the raillery of others, but certainly it will not cost
society a drop of blood or a tear. As to the founders of religious orders, in
what way are they subject to the charge of fanaticism ? Let us pass in silence
the profound respect which their virtues deserve, and the gratitude which hu
manity owes them for the inestimable benefits conferred ; let us suppose that
they were deceived in all their inspirations ; we may certainly call this delusion,
but not fanaticism. We do not find in them either frenzy or violence ; they
%re men diffident in themselves, who, when they believe that they are called by
Heaven to a great design, never commence the work without having prostrated
themselves at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff; they submit to his judgment
the rules for the establishment of their orders, they ask his instruction, listen
to his decision with docility, and do nothing without having obtained his per*
tEi'ssion How, then, do these founder* of orders resemble the fanatics, who

60 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

putting themselves at the head of a furious multitude, kill, destroy, and leava
everywhere behind them traces of blood and ruin ? We see in the founders of
religious orders men who, deeply impressed with an idea, devote themselves to
realize it, however great may be the sacrifice. Their conduct constantly shows
a toed idea, which is developed according to a preconcerted plan, and is always
highly social and religious in its object : above all, this is submitted to autho
rity^ maturely examined and corrected by the counsels of prudence. % An im-
partial philosopher, whatever may be his religious opinions, may find in all this
more^or less illusion and prejudice, or prudence and address ; but he cannot find
fanaticism, for there is nothing there which resembles it. (12)

CHAPTER IX.

INFIDELITY AND INDIFFERENCE IN EUROPE, THE FRUITS OF PRO
TESTANTISM.

THE fanaticism of sects, which is excited, kept alive, and nourished in Eu
rope, by the private judgment of Protestantism, is certainly an evil of the
greatest magnitude ; yet it is not so mischievous or alarming as the infidelity
and religious indifference for which modern society is indebted to the pretended
Reformation. Brought on by the scandalous extravagances of so many sects of
soidisant Christians, infidelity and religious indifference, which have their root
even in the very principle of Protestantism, began to show themselves with
alarming symptoms m the sixteenth century; they have acquired with time
great diffusion, they have penetrated all the branches of science and literature
have produced an effect on languages, and have endangered all the conquests
which civilization had gained during so many ages.

Even during the sixteenth century, and amid the hot disputes and religious
wars which Protestantism had enkindled, infidelity spread in an alarming man
ner; and it is probable that it was even more common than it appeared to be.
as it _ was not easy to throw off the mask at a period so near to the time when
religious convictions had been so deeply rooted. It is very likely that infidelity
was propagated disguised under the mantle of the Reformation, and that some
times enlisting under the banner of one sect and sometimes of another it
labored to weaken them all, in order to set up its own throne on the general
rum of faith.

It does not require a great effort of logic to pass from Protestantism to Deism •
from Deism to Atheism, there is but a step; and there must have been, at the
time when these errors were broached, a large number of persons with reason
ing powers enough to carry them out to the fullest extent. The Christian reli
gion, as explained by Protestants, is only a kind of philosophic system more or

•s reasonable ; as, when fully examined, it has no divine character. How,
then, can it govern a reflecting and independent mind ? Yes,- one glance at the
first exhibitions of Protestantism must have been enough to incline all those
to religious indifference who, naturally disinclined to fanaticism, had lost the
anchor of the Church's authority. When we consider the language and con
duct of the sectarian leaders of that time, we are strongly inclined to suspect
that they laughed at all Christian faith; that they concealed their indifference
or their Atheism under strange doctrines which served as a standard, and that
,hey propagated their writings with very bad faith, while they disguised theii
perfidious intention of preserving in the minds of their partisans sectarian
fanaticism.

Thus, listening to the dictates of good sense, the father of the famous Mon

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 6,

taigne, although he had seen as yet only the preludes of the Reformation, said,
"that this beginning of evil would easily degenerate into execrable Atheis-n."
A very remarkable testimony, which has been preserved to us by his son him
self, who was certainly neither weak nor hypocritical. (Ess&is de Montaigne,
liv. ii. chap. 12.) When this man pronounced so wise a judgment on the real
tendency of Protestantism, did he imagine that his own son would confirm the
justness of his prediction ? Everybody knows that Montaigne was one of '.he
first skeptics that became famous in Europe. It was requisite, at that time, for
men to be cautious in declaring themselves Atheists or indiflerentists, among
Protestants themselves ; and it may readily be imagined that all unbelievers
had not the boldness of Gruet; yet we may believe the celebrated theologian
of Toledo, Chacon, who said at the beginning of the last third of the sixteenth
century, " that the heresy of the Atheists, of those who believed nothing, had
great strength in France and in other countries."

Religious controversy continued to occupy the attention of all the savans of
Europe, and during this time the gangrene of infidelity made great progress.
This evil, from the middle of the seventeenth century, assumed a most alarming
aspect. Who is not dismayed at reading the profound thoughts of Pascal OD
religious indifference ? and who has not felt, in reading them, the emotion
which is caused in the soul by the presence of a dreadful evil ?

Things were now much advanced, and unbelievers were not far from being
in a position, to take their rank among the schools who disputed for the upper
hand in Europe. With more or less of disguise, they had already for a long
time shown themselves under the form of Socinianism ; but that did not suffice,
for Socinianism bore at least the name of a religious sect, and irreligion began
to feel itself .strong enough to appear under its own name. The last part of the
seventeenth century presents a crisis which is very remarkable with respect to
religion ; — a crisis which perhaps has not been well examined, although it exhi
bits some very remarkable facts ; I allude to a lassitude of religious disputes,
marked by two tendencies diametrically opposed to each other, and yet very
natural: one towards Catholicity and the other towards Atheism.

Every one knows how much disputing there had been up to this time on
religion j religious controversies were the prevailing taste, and it may be said
that they formed the principal occupation not only of ecclesiastics, both Catholic
and Protestant, but even of the well-educated laity. This taste penetrated the
palaces of kings and princes. The natural result of so many controversies was
to disclose the radical error of Protestantism : then the mind, which could not
remain firm on such slippery ground, was obliged, either to adopt authority, or
abandon itself to Atheism or complete indifference. These tendencies made
themselves very perceptibly felt ; thus it was that at the very time when Bayle
thought Europe sufficiently prepared for his infidelity and skepticism, there was

friug on an animated and serious correspondence for the reunion of the German
rotestants with the Catholic Church. Men of education are acquainted with
the discussions .which took place between the Lutheran Molanus, abbot of
Lockum, and Christopher, at first Bishop of Tyna, and afterwards of Newstad.
The correspondence between the two most remarkable men at that time in
Europe of both communions, Bossuet and Leibnitz, is another monument of thf
importance of these negotiations. The happy moment was not yet come ;
political considerations, which ought to have vanished in the presence of such
lofty interests, exercised a mischievous influence on the great soul of Leibnitz,
and he did not preserve, throughout the progress of the discussions and nego
tiations, the sincerity, good faith, and elevation of view, which he had evinced
at the commencement. The negotiation did not succeed, but the mere fact of
its existence shows clearly enough the void which was felt in Protestantism j
for we cannot believe that the two most celebrated men of that commanion

F

$2 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WTTH CATHOLICITY.

Molanus and Leibnitz, would have advanced so far in so important a negotiatiou,
unless they had observed among themselves many indications of a disposition
to return to the bosom of the Church. Add to this, the declaration of the
Lutheran university of Helmstad in favor of the Catholic religion, and the
fresh attempts at a reunion made by a Protestant prince, who addressed him
self to Pope Clement XL, and you have strong reasons for believing that the
Reformation felt itself mortally wounded. If God had been willing to permit
that so great a result should appear to have been effected in any way by human
means, the deep convictions prevalent among the most distinguished Protestants
might perhaps have greatly contributed to heal the wounds which had been
inflicted upon religious unity by the revolutionists of the sixteenth century.

But the profound wisdom of God had decided otherwise. In allowing men
to pursue their own opposite and perverse inclinations, He was pleased to chas
tise them by means of their own pride. The tendency towards unity was no
longer dominant in the next century, but gave place to a philosophic skepticism,
indifferent towards all other religions, but the deadly enemy of the Catholic.
It may be said that at that time there was a combination of the most fatal
influences to hinder the tendency towards unity from attaining its object.
Already were the Protestant sects divided and subdivided into numberless par
ties, and although Protestantism was thereby weakened, yet, nevertheless, it
was diffused over the greater part of Europe ; the germ of doubt in religious
matters had inoculated the whole of European society. There was no truth
which had escaped attack ; no error or extravagance which had not had apostles
and proselytes; and it was much to be feared that men would fall into that
state of fatigue and discouragement which is the result of great efforts made
without success, and into that disgust which is always produced by endless dis
putes and great scandals.

To complete the misfortune, and to bring to a climax the state of lassitude
and disgust, there was another evil, which produced the most fatal results.
The champions of Catholicity contended, with boldness and success, against the
religious innovations of Protestants. Languages, history, criticism, philosophy,
all that is most precious, rich, and brilliant in human knowledge, had been
employed in the noblest way in this important struggle ; and the great men
who were most prominent among the defenders of the Church seemed to con
sole her for the sad losses which she had sustained by the troubles of another
age. But while she embraced in her arms these zealous sons, those who boasted
the most of being called her children, she observed in some of them, with sur
prise and dread, an attitude of disguised hostility ; and in their thinly veiled
language and conduct she could easily perceive that they meditated giving her
a fatal blow. Always asserting their submission and their obedience, but never
submitting or obeying; continually extolling the authority and divine origin
of the Church, and carefully concealing their hatred of her existing laws and
institutions under cover of professed zeal for the re-establishment of ancient
discipline ; they sapped the foundations of morality, while they claimed to be
its earnest advocates; they disguised their hypocrisy and pride under false
humility and affected modesty ; they called obstinacy firmness, and wilful
blindness strength of mind. This rebellion presented an aspect more dangerous
than any heresy; their honeyed words, studied candor, respect for antiquity,
and the show of learning and knowledge, would have contributed to blind the
best informed, if the innovators had not been distinguished by the constant and
unfailing characteristic of all erroneous sects, viz. hatred of authority.

They were seen from time to time struggling against the declared enemies
of the Church, defending, with great display of learning, the truth of her sacred
dogmas, citing, with respect and deference, the writings of the holy fathers, and
declaring that they adhered to tradition, and had a profound veneration for the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. fo

decisions of councils and Popes. They particularly prided themselves en being
called Catholics, however much their language and conduct were inconsistent
with the name. Never did they get rid of the marvellous infatuation with which
they denied their existence as a sect ; and thus did they throw in the way of
ill-informed persons the unhappy scandal of a dogmatical dispute, going on
apparently within the bosom of the Church herself. The Pope declared them
heretics j all true Catholics bowed to the decision of the Vicar of Jesus Christ ;
from all parts of the world a voice was unanimously raised to pronounce
anathema against all who did not listen to the successor of St. Peter; but
they themselves, denying and eluding all, persisted in considering them
selves as a body of Catholics oppressed by the spirit of relaxation, abuse, and
intrigue.

This scandal gave the finishing stroke to the leading of men astray, and the
fatal gangrene which was infecting European society soon developed itself with
frightful rapidity. The religious disputes, the multitude and variety of sects,
the animosity which they showed against each other, all contributed to disgust
with religion itself whoever were not held fast by the anchor of authority. To
establish indifference as a system, atheism as a creed, and impiety as a fashion,
there was only wanting a man laborious enough to collect, unite, and present in
a bodv all the numerous materials which were scattered in a multitude of works;
a man who knew how to give to all this a philosophical complexion suitable to
the prevailing taste, and who could give to sophistry and declamation that seduc
tive appearance, that deceptive form and dazzling show, by which the produc
tions of genius are always marked, in the midst even of their wildest vagaries.
Such a man appeared in the person of Bayle. The noise which his famous
dictionary made in the world, and the favor which it enjoyed from the begin
ning, show how well the author had taken advantage of his opportunity. The
dictionary of Bayle is one of those books which, considered apart from theii
scientific and literary merit, always serve to denote a remarkable epoch, because
they present, together with the fruits of the past, the clear perception of a long
future. The author of such a work is not distinguished so much on account or
his own merit, as because he has known how to become the representative of
ideas previously diffused in society, but floating about in a state of uncertainty;
and yet his name recalls a vast history, of which he is the personification. The
publication of Bayle's work may be regarded as the solemn inauguration of the
chair of infidelity in Europe. The sophists of the eighteenth century found at
hand an abundant repository of facts and arguments ; but to render the thing
complete, there was wanting a hand capable of retouching the old paintings, of
restoring their faded colors, and of shedding over all the charms of imagination
and the refinement of wit ; there was wanting a guide to lead mankind by a
flowery path to the borders of the abyss. Scarcely had Bayle descended into
the tomb, when there appeared above the literary horizon a young man, whose
great talents were equalled by his malice and audacity ; Voltaire.

It was necessary to draw the reader's attention to the period which I havo
just described, lo show him how great was the influence exercised by Protest
antism in producing and establishing in Europe the irreligion, atheism, and
fatal indifference which have caused so many evils in modern society. I do not
mean to charge all Protestants with impiety ; and I willingly acknowledge the
sincerity and firmness of many of their most illustrious men, in struggling

•ainst the progress of irreligion. I am not ignorant that men sometimes
adopt a principle and repudiate its consequences, and that it would, therefore,
be very unjust to class them with those who openly accept those consequences ;
but on the other hand, however painful it may be to Protestants to avow that
their system leads to atheism, it is nevertheless a fact which cannot be denied.
All that they can claim of me on this point is, not to criminate their intentions:

64 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

after that, they cannot complain if, guided by the instructions of history an*
philosophy, I develope their fundamental principle to the fullest extent.

It would be useless to sketch, even in the most rapid manner, what has
passed in Europe since the appearance of Voltaire : the events are so recent,
and have been so often discussed, that all that I could say would be only a useless
repetition. I shall better attain my object by offering some remarks on the
actual state of religion in Protestant countries. Amid so many revolutions, and
when so, many heads were turned ; when all the foundations of society were
shaken, and the strongest institutions were torn out of the soil in which they
had been so "deeply rooted ; when even Catholic truth itself could not have been
sustained without the manifest aid of the arm of the Most High, we may ima
gine the fate of the fragile edifice of Protestantism, exposed, like all the rest, to
so many and such violent attacks. No one is ignorant of the numberless sects
vhich abound in Great Britain, of the deplorable condition of faith among the
iowiss Protestants, even on the most important points. That there might be no
loubt as to the real state of the Protestant religion in Germany, that is, in its
native country, where it was first established as in its dearest patrimony, the
Protestant minister, Baron Starck, has taken care to tell us, that " in Germany
.here is not one single point of Christian faith which has not been openly attacked
by the Protestant ministers themselves." The real state of Protestantism appears
4) me to be truly and forcibly depicted by a curious idea of J. Heyer, a Pro-
lestant minister. Heyer published, in 1818, a work en-titled Coup d'ae-il sur les
Confessions de Foi; not knowing how to get out of the difficulty in which all
Protestants found themselves placed when they had to choose a symbol, he pro-
losed the simple expedient of getting rid of all symbols.

The only way that Protestantism has of preserving itself, is to violate as much
AS possible its own fundamental principle, by withdrawing the right of private
judgment, inducing the people to remain faithful to the opinions in which they
^ave been educated, and carefully concealing from them the inconsistency into
which they fall, when they submit to the authority of a private individual, after
having rejected the authority of the Catholic church. But things are not taking
this course ; and in spite of the efforts of some- Protestants to follow it, Bible
Societies, working with a zeal worthy of a better cause, in promoting among aL
classes the private interpretation of the Bible, would suffice to keep alive alwayp
the spirit of inquiry. This diffusion of the Bible operates as a constant appea.
to private judgment, which, after perhaps causing many days of sorrow ai 1
mourning to society, will eventually destroy the remains of Protestantism. A a
this has not escaped the notice of its disciples; and some of the most remark
able among them have raised their voices to point out the danger. (13)

CHAPTER X.

CAUSES OF THE CONTINUANCE OF PROTESTANTISM.

AFTER having clearly shown the intrinsic weakness of Protestantism, it is
natural to ask this question : If it be so feeble, owing to the radical defects of
its constitution, why has it not by this time completely disappeared ? If it bear
in its own breast the seeds of death, how has it been able so long to withstand
such powerful adversaries, as Catholicity, on the one hand, and irreligion or
Atheism, on the other ? In order to resolve this question satisfactorily, it is
necessary to consider Protestantism in two points of view ; as embodying a
fixed creed, and as exnressing a number of sects, who, in spite of their numerous
mutual differences, agree in calling themselves Christians, and preserve a
shadow of Christianity, although they reject the authority of the Church. It

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CArBoLICITY. 65

18 necessary to consider Protestantism in this double point of view, since ite
founders, while endeavoring to destroy the authority and dogmas of the Roman
Church, were compelled to form a system of doctrines to serve as a symbol for
their followers. Considered in the first aspect, it has almost entirely disap
peared ; we should rather say it scarcely ever had existence. This truth ia
sufficiently evident from what I have said of the variations and actual condition
of Protestantism in the various countries of Europe ; time has shown how much
the pretended Reformers were deceived, when they fancied that they could fix
the columns of Hercules of the human mind, to repeat the expression of Ma
dame de Stael.

Who now defends the doctrines of Luther and Calvin ? Who respects thx
limits which they prescribed ? What Protestant Church distinguishes itself by
the ardor of its zeal in preserving any particular dogmas ? What Protestant
now holds the divine mission of Luther, or believes the Pope to be Antichrist ?
Who watches over the purity of doctrine, and points out errors ? Who opposes
the torrent of sectarianism ?

Do we find, in their writings, or in their discourses, the energetic tones of
conviction, or the zeal of truth ? In fine, what a wide difference do wfi find
when we compare the Protestant Church with the Catholic ! Inquire in'o the
faith of the latter, and you will hear from the mouth of Gregory XY L, the
successor of St. Peter, the same that Luther heard from Leo X. Compare the
doctrine of Leo X. with that of his predecessors, you will always find it the
same up to the Apostles, and to Jesus Christ himself. If you attempt to assail
a dogma, if you try to attack the purity of morals, the voice of the ancient
Fathers will denounce your errors, and in the middle of the nineteenth century
you will imagine that the old Leos and Gregories are risen from the tomb. If
your intentions are good, you" will find indulgence ; if your merits are great, you
will be treated with respect ; if you occupy an elevated position in the world,
you will have attention paid to you. But if you attempt to abuse your talents
by introducing novelty in doctrine ; if, by your power, you aspire to demand a
modification of faith ; and if, to avoid troubles or prevent schism, or conciliate
any one, you ask for a compromise or even an ambiguous explanation j the
answer of the successor of St. Peter will be, " Never ! faith is a sacred deposit
which we cannot alter ; truth is immutable ; it is one :" and to this reply of
the Vicar of Jesus Christ, which with a word will banish all your hopes, will
be added those of the modern Athanasiuses, Gregories of Nazianzen, Ambroses,
Jeromes, and Augustins. Always the same firmness in the same faith, the
same unchangeableness, the same energy in preserving the sacred deposit intact,
in defending it against the attacks of error, in teaching it to the faithful in all
its purity, and in transmitting it unaltered to future generations. Will it be
said that this is obstinacy, b^ndness, and fanaticism? But, eighteen centuries
gone by, the revolutions 01 empires, the most fearful catastrophes, an infinite
variety of ideas and manners, the most severe persecutions, the darkness of
ignorance, the conflicts of passion, the lights of knowledge, — none of these
have been able to enlighten this blindness, to bend this obstinacy, or extinguish
thb fanaticism. Certainly a reflecting Protestant, one of those who know how
to rise above the prejudices of education, when fixing his eyes on this picture,
the truth of which he cannot but acknowledge, if he Is well informed on the
question, will leei strong doubts arise within him as to the truth of the instruc
tion he has received ; he will at least feel a desire of examining more closely
this great prodigy which the Catholic Church presents to us. But to return.

We see the Protestant sects melting away daily, and this dissolution must
constantly increase ; nevertheless, we have no reason to be astonished that
Protestantism, masmucu a,s it consists of a number of sects who preserve the
name and some remains of Christianity, does not wholly disappear; for how

9 r 2

66 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

could it disappear ? Either Protestant nations must be completely swallowed
up by irreligion or atheism, or they must give up Christianity and adopt one
of the religions which are established in other parts of the world. Now both
these suppositions are impossible ; therefore this false form of Christianity has
been and will be preserved, in some shape or other, until Protestants return to
the bosom of the Church.

Let us develope these ideas. Why cannot Protestant nations be completely
swallowed up by irreligion and atheism, or indifference ? Because such a mis
fortune may happen to an individual, but not to a nation. By means of false
books, erroneous reasonings, and continual efforts, some individuals may extin
guish the lively sentiments of their hearts, stifle the voice of conscience, and
trample under foot the dictates of common sense ; but a nation cannot do so.
A people always preserves a large fund of candor and docility, which, amid the
most fatal errors and even the most atrocious crimes, compels it to lend an
attentive ear to the inspirations of nature. Whatever may be the corruption of
morals, whatever may be the errors of opinion, there will never be more than a
small number of men found capable of struggling for a long time against them
selves, in the attempt to eradicate from their hearts that fruitful germ of good
feelings, that precious seed of virtuous thoughts, with which the beneficent
hand of the Creator has enriched our souls. The conflagration of the passions,
it is true, produces lamentable prostration, and sometimes terrible explosions ;
but when the fire is extinguished, man returns to himself, and his mind be
comes again accessible to the voice of reason and virtue. An attentive study
of society proves that the number of men is happily very small who are, as it
were, steeled against truth and virtue ; who reply with frivolous sophistry to
the admonitions of good sense ; who oppose with cold stoicism the sweetest and
most generous inspirations of nature, and venture to display, as an illustration
of philosophy, firmness, and elevation of mind, the ignorance, obstinacy, and
barrenness of an icy heart. The generality of mankind, more simple, more
candid, more natural, are consequently ill-suited to a system of atheism, or in
difference. Such a system may take possession of the proud mind of a learned
visionary ; it may be adopted, as a convenient opinion, by dissipated youth ; and
in times of agitation, it may influence a few fiery spirits ; but it will never be
able to establish itself in society as a normal condition.

No, by no means. An individual maybe irreligious, but families and society
never will. Without a basis on which the social edifice must rest ; without a
great creative idea, whence will flow the ideas of reason, virtue, justice, obliga
tion, and right, which are as necessary to the existence and preservation of
society as blood and nourishment are to the life of the individual, society would
be destroyed ; without the sweet ties by which religious ideas unite together the
members of a family, without the heavenly harmony which they infuse into all
its connections, the family would cease to exist, or at least would be only a
rude and transient union, resembling the intercourse of animals. God has
happily gifted all his creatures with a marvellous instinct of self-preservation.
Guided by that instinct, families and society repudiate with indignation thoso
degrading ideas which, blasting by their fatal breath all the germs of life,
breaking all ties, upsetting all laws, make botn of them retrograde towards the
most abject barbarism, and finish by scattering their members like dust before
the wind.

The repeated lessons of experience ought to have convinced certain philoso
phers that these ideas and feelings, engraven on the heart of man by the finger
of the Author of nature, cannot be eradicated by declamation or sophistry. If
a few ephemeral triumphs have occasionally flattered their pride, and made them
conceive false hopes of the result of their efforts, the course of events has soon
shown them, that to pride their selves nn these triumphs was to act like a man

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 67

*ho, on account of having succeeded in infusing unnatural sentiments into the
hearts of a few mothers, would flatter himself that he has banished maternal
love from the world. Society (T do not mean the populace or the commonalty)
— society will be religious, even at the risk of being superstitious ; if it does
not believe in reasonable things, it will in extravagant ones ; and if it have not
a divine religion, it will have a human one : to suppose the contrary, is to
dream; to struggle against this tendency, is to struggle against an eternal law;
to attempt to restrain it, is to attempt to restrain with a weak arm a body
launched with an immense force — the arm will be destroyed, but the body will
continue its course. Men may call this superstition, fanaticism, the result of
error ; but to talk thus can only serve to console them for their failure.

Since, then, religion is a real necessity, we have therein an explanation of the
phenomenon which history and experience present to us, namely, that religion
never wholly disappears, and that when changes take place, the two rival reli
gions, during their struggles, more or less protracted, occupy successively the
same ground. The consequence is, that Protestantism cannot entirely disappear
unless another religion takes its place. Now, as in the actual state of civiliza
tion, no religion can replace it but the Catholic, it is evident that Protestant
sects will continue to occupy, with more or less variation, the countries which
they have gained.

Indeed, how is it possible, in the present state of civilization among Protest
ant nations, that the follies of the Koran, or the absurdities of idolatry, should
have any chance of success among them ? The spirit of Christianity circu
lates in the veins of modern society ; its seal is set upon all legislation ; ita
light is shed upon all branches of knowledge ; its phraseology is found in all
languages ; its precepts regulate morals ; habits and manners have assumed its
form ; the fine arts breathe its perfume, and all the monuments of genius are
full of its inspirations. Christianity, in a word, pervades all parts of that great,
varied, and fertile civilization, which is the glory of modern society. How
then, is it possible for a religion entirely to disappear which possesses, with the
most venerable antiquity, so many claims to gratitude, so many endearing ties,
and so many glorious recollections ? How could it give place, among Christian
nations, to one of those religions which, at the first glance, show the finger of
man, and indicate, as their distinctive mark, degradation and debasement ?
Although the essential principle of Protestantism saps the foundations of the
Christian religion, although it disfigures its beauty, and lowers its sublimity,
yet the remains which it preserves of Christianity, its idea of God, and ita
maxims of morality, raise it far above all the systems of philosophy, and all
the other religions of the world.

If, then, Protestantism has preserved some shadow of the Christian religion,
it was because, looking at the condition of the nations who took part in the
schism, it was impossible for the Christian name wholly to disappear ; and not
on account of any principle of life contained in the bosom of the pretended
Reformation. On ^he other hand, consider the efforts of politicians, the natural
attachment of ministers to their own interests, the illusions of pride which flat
ter men with the freedom they will enjoy in the absence of all authority, the
remains of old prejudices, the power of education, and such like causes, and you
will find a complete solution of the question. Then you will no longer be sur
prised that Protestantism continues to retain possession of many of those coun
tries where it unfortunately became deeply rooted.

68
CHAPTER XI.

THE POSITIVE DOCTRINES OF PROTESTANTISM REPUGNANT TO TUB
INSTINCT OF CIVILIZATION.

THE best proof of the extreme weakness of Protestantism, considered as a
body of doctrine, is the little influence which its positive doctrines have exer-
cipcd in European civilization. I call its positive doctrines those which it
attempts to establish as its own ; and I distinguish them thus from its other
doctrines, which I call negative, because they are nothing but the negation of
authority. The latter found favor on account of their conformity with tho»
inconstancy and changeableness of the human mind ; but the others, which have
not the same means of success, have all disappeared with their authors, and are
now plunged in oblivion. The only part of Christianity which has been pre
served among Protestants, is that which was necessary to prevent European
civilization from losing among them its nature and character; and this is the
reason why the doctrines which had too direct a tendency to alter the nature
of this civilization have been repudiated, we should rather say, despised by it.

There is a circumstance here well worthy of attention, and which has not
perhaps been noticed, viz. the fate of the doctrine held by the first reformers
with respect to free-will. It is well known that one of the first and most im
portant errors of Luther and Calvin consisted in denying free-will. We find
this fatal doctrine professed in the works which they have left us. Does it not
seem that this doctrine ought to have preserved its credit among the Protestants,
and that they ought to have fiercely maintained it, since such is commonly the
case with errors which serve as a nucleus in the formation of a sect ? It seems,
also, that Protestantism being widely spread, and deeply rooted in several
countries of Europe, this fatalist doctrine ought to have exercised a strong influ
ence on the legislation of Protestant nations. Wonderful as it is, such has not
been the case ; European moralists have despised it j legislation has not adopted
it as a basis ; civilization has not allowed itself to be directed by a principle
which sapped all the foundations of morality, and which, if once applied to
morals and laws, would have substituted for European civilization and dignity
the barbarism and debasement of Mahometanism.

There is no doubt that this fatal doctrine has perverted some individuals; it
has been adopted by sects more or less numerous ; and it cannot be denied that
it has affected the morality of some nations. But it is also certain, that, in the
generality of the great human family, governments, tribunals, administration,
legislation, science, and morals, have not listened to this horrible doctrine of
Luther, — a doctrine which strips man of his free will, which makes God the
author of sin, which charges the Creator with the responsibility of all the
crimes of His creatures, and represents Him as a tyrant, by affirming that His
yrecepts are impossible ; a doctrine which monstrously confounds the ideas of
good and evil, and removes all stimulus to good deeds, by teaching that faith
is sufficient for salvation, and that all the good works of the just are only sins.

Public opinion, good sense, and morality here side with Catholicity. Those
even who in theory embrace these fatal religious doctrines, asually reject them
in practice ; this is because Catholic instruction on these important points has
made so deep an impression on them ; because so strong an instinct of civiliza
tion has been communicated to European society by the Catholic religion.
Thus the Churcn, by repudiating the destructive errors taught by Protestantism,
preserved society from being debased by these fatalist doctrines. The Church
formed a barrier against the despotism which is enthroned wherever the sense
of dignity is lost; she was a fence against the demoralization which always
spreads whenever men think themselves bound by blind necessity, as bj sa

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 69

iron chain ; she also freed the human mind from the state of abjection into
which it falk whenever it thinks itself deprived of the government of its own
conduct, and of the power of influencing the course of events. In condemning
those errors of Luther, which were the bond of Protestantism at. its birth, the
Pope raised the alarm against an irruption of barbarism into the order of ideas ;
he saved morality, laws, public order, and society; the Vatican, by securing
the noble sentiment of liberty in the sanctuary of conscience, preserved the
dignity of man ; by struggling against Protestant ideas, by defending the sacred
deposit confided to it by its Divine Master, the Roman See became the tutelary
divinity of future civilization.

Reflect on these great truths, understand them thoroughly, you who speak
of religious disputes with cold indifference, with apparent mockery and pity, as
if they were only scholastic puerilities. Nations do not live on bread alone;
they live also on ideas, on maxims, which, converted into spiritual aliment, give
them greatness, strength, and energy, or, on the contrary, weaken them, reduce
them, and condemn them to stupidity. Look over the face of the globe, examine
the periods of human history, compare times with times, and nations with
nations, and you will see that the Church, by giving so much importance to the
preservation of these transcendent truths, by accepting no compromise on this
point, has understood and realized better than any other teacher, the elevated
and salutary maxim, that truth ought to reign in the world; that on the order
of ideas depends the order of events, and that when these great problems are
called in question, the destinies of humanity are involved.

Let us recapitulate what we have said ; the essential principle of Protestantism
is one of destruction ; this is the cause of its incessant variations, of its dissolu
tion and annihilation. As a particular religion it no longer exists, for it has no
peculiar faith, no positive character, no government, nothing that is essential to
form an existence ; Protestantism is only a negative. If there is any thing to
be found in it of a positive nature, it is nothing more than vestiges and ruins ;
all is without force, without action, without the spirit of life. It cannot show
an edifice raised by its own hands; it cannot, like Catholicity, stand in the
midst of its vast works and say, " These are mine." Protestantism can only sit
down on a heap of ruins, and say with truth, " I have made this pile."

As long as sectarian fanaticism lasted, as long as this flame, enkindled by
furious declamation, was kept alive by unhappy circumstances, Protestantism
showed a certain degree of force, which, although it was not the sign of vigor
ous life, at least indicated the convulsive energy of delirium. But that period
has passed, the action of time has dispersed the elements that fed the flame,
and none of the attempts which have been made to give to the Reformation the
character of a work of God, have been able to conceal the fact that it was the
work of human passions. Let us not be deceived by the efforts which are now
being made ; what is acting under our eyes is not living Protestantism, it is the
operation of false philosophy, perhaps of policy, sometimes of sordid interest
disguised under the name of policy. Every one knows how powerful Protest
antism was in exciting disturbances and causing disunion. It is on this account
that evil-minded men search in the bed of this exhausted torrent for some
remains of its impure waters, and knowing them to contain a deadly poison,
present them to the unsuspecting in a golden cup.

But it is in vain for weak man to struggle against the arm of the Almignty,
God vill not abandon His work. Notwithstanding all his attempts to deface
the work of God, man cannot blot out the eternal characters which distinguish
truth from error. Truth in itself is strong and robust : as it ia the ensemble
of the relations which unite things together, it is strongly connected with them,
and cannot be separated either by the efforts of man or by the revolution of
time. Error, on the contrary, the lying image of the great ties which bind to-

/0 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICTCT.

gcther the compact mass of the universe, stretches over its usurped domain like
those dead branches of the forest which, devoid of sap, afford neither freshness
nor verdure, and only serve to impede the advance of the traveller.
. Confiding men, do not allow yourselves to be seduced by brilliant appear
ances, pompous discourse, or false activity. Truth is open, modest, without
suspicion, because it is pure and strong ; error is hypocritical and ostentatious,
because it is false and weak. Truth resembles a woman of real beauty, who,
conscious of her charms, despises the affectation of ornament ; error, on the
contrary, paints and ornaments herself, because she is ugly, without expression,
without grace, without dignity. Perhaps you may be pleased with its laborious
activity. Know, then, that it has no strength but when it is the rallying cry of
a faction ; then, indeed, it is rapid in action and fertile in violent measures. It
is like the meteor which explodes and vanishes, leaving behind it nothing but
darkness, death, and destruction ; truth, on the contrary, like the sun, sends
forth its bright and steady beams, fertilizes with its genial warmth, and sheds on
eveiy side life, joy, and beauty.

CHAPTER XII.

THE EFFECTS WHICH THE INTRODUCTION OF PROTESTANTISM INTO
SPAIN WOULD HAVE PRODUCED.

IN order to judge of the real effect which the introduction of Protestan
doctrines would have had in Spain, we shall do well, in the first place, to take a
survey of the present state of religion in Europe. In spite of the confusion of
ideas which is one of the prevailing characteristics of the age, it is undeniable
that the spirit of infidelity and irreligion has lost much of its strength, and that
where it still exists it has merged into indifference, instead of preserving its
systematic form of the last century. With the lapse of time declamation
ceases; men grow tired of continually repeating the same insulting language;
their minds resist the intolerance and bad faith of sects ; systems betray their
emptiness, opinions their erroneousness, judgments their precipitation, and rea
sonings their want of exactitude. Time shows their counterfeit intentions, their
deceptive statements, the littleness of their ideas, and the mischievousness of
their projects ; truth begins to recover its empire, things regain their real names,
and, thanks to the new direction of the public .mind, that which before was con
sidered innocent and generous is now looked upon as criminal and vile. The
deceitful masks are taken off, and falsehood is discovered surrounded by the dis
credit which ought always to have accompanied it.

Irreligious ideas, like all those which are prevalent in an advanced state of
society, would not, and could not be confined to mere speculation ; they invaded
the domain of practice, and labored to gain the upper hand in all .branches of
administration and politics. But the revolution which they produced in society
tacame fatal to themselves; for there is nothing which better exposes the faults
and errors of a system, and undeceives men on the subject, than the touchstone
of experience. There is in our minds a certain power of viewing an objsct
under a variety of aspects, and an unfortunate aptitude for supporting the mc«st
extravagant proposition by a multitude of sophisms. In mere disputation, it ia
difficult for the most reasoning minds to keep clear of the snares of sophistry.
But when we come to experience, ifc is otherwise ; the mind is silent, and facts
speak j and if the experience has been on a large scale, and applied to objecta
of great interest and importance, it is difficult for the most specious arguments
to counteract the convincing eloquence of the result. Hence it is that a man
tf much experience obtains an instinct so sure and deli ;ate, that when a systeip

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 71

IB but explained he can point out all its inconveniences. Inexperience, pre
sumptuous and prejudiced, appeals to argument in support of its ioctrines but
good sense, that precious and inestimable quality, shakes its heid, shrugs its
shoulders, and with a tranquil smile leaves its prediction to be tested by time.

It is not necessary now to insist on the practical results of those doctrines of
ifrhich infidelity was the motto; we have said enough on that subject. Suffice
it to say, that those same men who seem to belong to the last century by their
principles, interests, recollections, or for other reasons, have been obliged to
modify their doctrines, to limit their principles, to palliate their propositions, to
cool the warmth and passion of their invectives; and when they wish to give a
mark of their esteem and veneration for those writers who were the delight of
their youth, they are compelled to declare " that those men were great philoso
phers, but philosophers of the cabinet;" as if in reality what they call the
knowledge of the cabinet was not the most dangerous ignorance.

It is certain that these attempts have had the effect of throwing discredit on
irreligion as a system. If people do not regard it with horror, at least they
] k upon it with mistrust. Irreligion has labored in all the branches of science,
i. the vain hope that the heavens would cease to relate the glories of God, that
the earth would disown Him who laid its foundations, and that all nature would
give testimony against the Lord who gave it existence and life. These same
labors have banished the scandalous division which had begun between religion
and science ; so that the ancient accents of the man of Hus have again resounded,
without dishonor to science, in the mouths of men in the nineteenth century ,
and what shall we say of the triumphs of religion in all that is noble, tender,
and sublime on earth ? How grand are the operations of Providence displayed
therein ! Admirable dispensation ! The mysterious hand which governs the
universe seems to hold in reserve for every great crisis of society an extraordi
nary man. At the proper moment this man presents himself; he advances,
himself ignorant whither he is going, but he advances with a firm step towards
the accomplishment of the high mission for which Providence has destined
him.

Atheism was bathing France in a sea of tears and blood ; an unknown man
silently traverses the ocean. While the violence of the tempest rends the sails
of his vessel, he listens attentively to the hurricane — he is lost in the contem
plation of the majesty of the heavens. Wandering in the solitudes of America,
he asks of the wonders of creation the name of their Author ; the thunder on
the confines of the desert, the low murmuring of the forests, and the beauties
of nature answer him with canticles of love and harmony. The view of a soli
tary cross reveals to him mysterious secrets ; the traces of an unknown mis
sionary awaken important recollections which connect the new world with the
old ; a monument in ruins, the hut of a savage, excite in his mind thoughts
which penetrate to the foundations of society and to the heart of man. Intoxi
cated with these spectacles, his mind full of sublime conceptions, and his heart
inundated with the charms of so much beauty, this man returns to his native
soil. What does he find there ? The bloody traces of Atheism ; the ruins and
ashes of ancient temples devoured by the flames or destroyed by violence ; the
remains of a multitude of innocent victims, buried in the graves which for
merly afforded an asylum to persecuted Christians. He observes, however, that
something is in agitation; he sees that religion is about to redescend upon
France, like consolation upon the unfortunate, or the breath of life upon a
corpse . From that moment he hears on all sides a concert of celestial har
moLy; the inspirations of meditation and solitude revive and ferment in hij
great soul ; transported out of himself, and ravished into ecstasy, he sings with
a tongue of fire the glories of religion, he reveals the delicacy and beauty if the
relations between religion and nature, and in surpassing language he points out

VI PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

to astonished men the mysterious golden chain which connects the heavens and
the earth. That man was Chateaubriand.

It must, however, be confessed, that the confusion which has been intro
duced into ideas cannot be corrected in a short time, and that it is not easy to
eradicate the deep traces of the ravages of irreligion. Men's minds, it is true,
are tired of the irreligious system ; society, which had lost its balance, is
generally ill at ease ; the family feels its ties relaxed, and individuals fcigh after
a ray of light, a drop of hope and consolation. But where shall the world find
the remedy which is wanting ? Will it follow the best road — the only road ?
Will it re-enter the fold of the Catholic Church ? Alas ! God alone knows the
secrets of the future ; He alone has clearly unfolded before His eyes the great
events which are no doubt awaiting humanity. He alone knows what will be
the result of that activity, of that energy, which again urges men to the exami
nation of great political and religious questions ; and He alone knows what, to
future generations, will be the result of the triumphs obtained by religion, in
th:; fine arts, w literature, in science, in politics, in all the operations carried on
by the human mind.

As to us, carried away as we are by the rapid and precipitate course of revo
lution, hardly have we time to cast a fleeting glance upon the chaos in which
our country is involved. What can we confidently predict ? All that we can
be sure of is, that we are in an age of disquietude, of agitation, of transition ;
that the multiplied examples and warnings of so many disappointed expecta
tions, the fruits of fearful revolutions and unheard-of catastrophes, have every
where thrown discredit upon irreligious and disorganizing doctrines, without
having established the legitimate empire of true religion. Hearts sick of sc
many misfortunes are willingly open to hope ; but minds are in a state of great
uncertainty as to the future : perhaps they even anticipate a new series of
calamities. Owing to revolutions, to the efforts of industry, to the activity and
extension of commerce, to the progress and prodigious diffusion of printing, to
scientific discoveries, to the ease, rapidity, and universality of communication,
to the taste for travelling, to the dissolving action of Protestantism, of incre
dulity, and skepticism, the human mind certainly now presents one of the most
singular phases of its history. Reason, imagination, and the heart are in a state
of agitation, of movement, and of extraordinary development, and show us at
the same time the most singular contrasts, the most ridiculous extravagances,
and the most absurd contradictions. Observe the sciences, and you will no
longer find those lengthened labors, that indefatigable patience, that calm and
tranquil progress, which characterized these studies at other epochs ; but you
will find there a spirit of observation, and a tendency to place questions in that
transcendental point of view where may be discovered the relations subsisting
between them, the ties by which they are connected, and the way in which they
throw light upon each other. Questions of religion, of politics, of legislation,
of morals, of government, are all mingled, stand prominently forward, and give
to the horizon of science a grandeur and immensity which it did not previously
possess. This progress, this confusion, this chaos, if you like to call it so, is a
fact which must be taken into account in studying the spirit of the age, in
examining the religious condition of the time ; for it is not the work of a single
man, or the effect of accident ; it is the result of a multitude of causes, the fruit
of a great number of facts ; it is an expression of the present state of intelli
gence ; a symptom of strength and disease, an announcement of change and of
transition, perhaps a sign of consolation, perhaps a presage of misfortune And
who has not observed the fertility of imagination and unbounded reach of
thought in that literature, so various, so irregular, and so vague, but at the
same time so rich in fine images, in delicate feeling, and in bold and generous
thought ? You may talk as much as you please of the debasement of science,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 71

of the falling off in study. You may speak in a tone of derision cf the lights
rf the age, and turn with regret to ages more studious and more learned; tnere
will be some exaggeration, truth and error, in all this, as there always is in
declamation of this kind; but whatever may be the degree of utility belonging
to the present labors of the human mind, never, perhaps, was there a time when
it displayed more activity and energy, never was it agitated by a movement so
general, so lively, so various, and never, perhaps, did it desire, with a more
excusable curiosity and impatience, to raise a part of the veil which covers the
boundless future. What will be able to govern elements so powerful and so
opposite ? What can calm this tempestuous sea ? What will give the union,
the connection, the consistency necessary to form, out of these repulsive and
discordant elements, a whole compact and capable of resisting the action of
time ? Will this be done by Protestantism, with its fundamental principle
which establishes and diffuses and sanctions the dissolving principle of private
interpretation in matters of religion, and realizes this unhappy notion by circu
lating among all classes of society copies of the Bible ?

Nations numerous, proud of their power, vain of their knowledge, rendered
dissipated by pleasure, refined by luxury, continually exposed to the powerful
influence of the press, and possessing means of communication which would
have appeared fabulous to their ancestors ; nations in whom all the violent pas
sions have an object, all intrigues an existence, all corruptions a veil, all crimes
a title, all errors an advocate, all interests a support ; nations which, warned
and deceived, still vacillate in a state of dreadful uncertainty between truth and
falsehood; sometimes looking at the torch of truth as if they meant to be
guided by its light, and then again seduced by an ignis fatuus ; sometimes
making an effort to rule the storm, and then abandoning themselves to its vio
lence ; modern nations show us a picture as extraordinary as it is interesting,
where hopes, fears, prognostics, and conjectures have free scope, and nobody
can pretend to predict with accuracy, and the wise man must await in silence
the denouement marked out in the secret decrees of God, where alone are clearly
written the events of all time, and the future destinies of men.

But it may be easily understood that Protestantism, on account of its essen
tially dissolving nature, is incapable of producing any thing in morals or reli
gion to increase the happiness of nations, for it is impossible for this happiness
to exist as long as men's minds are at war on the most important questions
which can occupy them.

When the observer, amid this chaos and obscurity, seeks for a ray of light
to illuminate the world — for a powerful principle capable of putting an end to
so much confusion and anarchy, and of bringing back men's minds to the path
of truth, Catholicity immediately presents herself to him, as the only source of
all these benefits. When we consider with what ecla and with what power
Catholicity maintains herself against all the unprecedented attempts which are
made to destroy her, our hearts are filled with hope and consolation ; and we
feel inclined to hail this divine religion, and to congratulate her on the new
triumph which she is about to achieve on earth.

There was a time when Europe, inundated by a torrent of barbarians, saw at
once overwhelmed all the monuments of ancient civilization and refinement.
Legislators and their laws, the empire and its power and splendor, philosophers
and the sciences, the arts and their chef-d' oeuvres, all disappeared ; and those
immense regions, where had flourished all the civilization and refinement that
had been gained during so many ages, were suddenly plunged into ignorancr
and barbarism. Nevertheless, the spark of light which had appeared to tuu
world in Palestine, continued to shine amid the chaos : in vain did whirlwinds
threaten to extfnguish it ; kept alive by the breath of the Eternal, it continued
to shine. Ages rolled away, and it appeared with greater brilliancy; ai»<l
10 ft

74 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

when, perchance, the nations only expected a beam of light to guide them in
the darkness, they found a resplendent sun, everywhere diffusing life and light :
and who shall say that there is not reserved for her in the secrets of the Eter«
nal, another triumph more difficult, but not less useful, not less brilliant ? If
in other times that religion instructed ignorance, civilized barbarism, polished
rudeness, softened ferocity, and preserved society from being always^the prey
of the fiercest brutality and the most degrading stupidity, will it be less glorious
for her to correct ideas, to harmonize and refine feelings, to establish the eternal
principles of society, to curb the passions, to remove animosities, to remove ex
cesses, to govern all minds and hearts ? How honorable will it be to her, if,
while regulating all things, and unceasingly stimulating all kinds of knowledge
and improvement, she can inspire with a proper spirit of moderation that society
which so many elements, devoid of central attraction, threaten every moment
with dissolution and death !

It is not given to man to penetrate the future ; but in the same way as the
physical world would be broken up by a terrible catastrophe, if it were deprived
for a moment of the fundamental principle which gives unity, order, and con
cert to the various movements of the system; in the same way, if society, full
as it is of motion, of communication, and life, were not placed under the direc
tion of a constant and universal regulating principle, we could not fix our eyes
on the lot of future generations without the greatest alarm.

There is, however, a fact which is consoling in the highest degree, viz. the
wonderful progress which Catholicity has made in different countries. It ip
gaining strength in France and Belgium : the obstinacy with which it is com •
bated in the north of Europe shows how much it is feared. In England its
progress has been recently so great that it would not be credited without the
most irresistible evidence ; and in the foreign missions it has shown an extent
of enterprise and fruitfulness, worthy of the time of its greatest ascendency and
power.

When other nations tend towards unity, shall we commit the gross mistake
of adopting schism ? at a time when other nations would be happy to find within
their bosoms a vital principle capable of restoring the power which incredu'ity
has destroyed, shall Spain, which preserves Catholicity, and alone possesses it
full and complete, allow the germ of death to be introduced into her bosom
thereby rendering impossible the cure of her evils, or rather entailing on her
self complete and certain ruin ? Amid the moral regeneration towards which
nations are advancing, seeking to quit the painful position in which they have
been placed by irreligious doctrines, is it possible to overlook Jhe immense ad
vantage which Spain still preserves over most of them ? Spain is one of those
least affected by the gangrene of irreligion ; she still preserves religious unity,
that inestimable inheritance of a long line of ages. Is it possible to overlook
the advantage of that unity if properly made use of, that unity which is mixed
up with all our glories, which awakens such noble recollections, and which may
be made so wonderful an instrument in the regeneration of social order ?

If I am asked my opinion of the nearness of the danger, and if I think the
present attempts of Protestants have any probability of success, I must draw a
distinction in my reply. Protestantism is extremely weak, both on account of
its own nature, and of its age and decaying condition. In endeavoring to intro
duce itself into Spain, it will have to contend with an adversary full of life and
strength, and deeply rooted in the soil. This is the reason why I think that
its direct action is not to be feared ; and yet, if it should succeed in establishing
itself in any part of our country, however limited may be its domain, it is sure
to produce fearful results. It is evident that we shall then havo in the midst
of us a new apple of discord, and it is not difficult to foresee that collisions will
frequently arise. Protestantism in Spain, besides its intrinsic weakness, will

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 75

labor under the disadvantage of not finding its natural aliment. Hence it will
be obliged to take advantage of any support that is offered ; it will immediately
become the point of reunion for the discontented ; and although failing in its
intended object, it will succeed in becoming the nucleus or" new parties and the
banner of factions. Scandal, strife, demoralization, troubles, and perhaps catas
trophes, — such will be the immediate and infallible results of the introduction
of Protestantism among us. On this point I appeal to the candid opinion of
every man who is well acquainted with Spain. But this is not all : the ques
tion is enlarged, and acquires an incalculable importance, if we consider it with
reference to foreign politics. What a lever will be afforded to foreigners for all
kinds of attempts in our unhappy country ! How gladly will those, who are
perhaps on the look-out for such an aid, avail themselves of it !

There is in Europe a nation remarkable for her immense power, and worthy
of respect on account of the great progress which she has made in the arts and
sciences ; a nation that holds in her hands powerful means of action in all parts
of the world, and knows how to use them with wonderful discretion and saga
city. As that nation has taken the lead in modern times in passing through
all the phases of political and religious revolution, and has seen, during fearful
convulsions, the passions in all their nakedness, and crime in all its forms, she
is better acquainted than all others with their causes.

Not misled by the vain names under which, at such periods, the lowest pas
sions and the most sordid interests disguise themselves, she is too much on her
guard to allow the troubles which have inundated other countries with tears
and blood, to be easily excited within herself. Her internal peace is not dis
turbed by the agitation and heat of disputes ; although she may expect to have
to encounter, sooner or later, difficulties and embarrassments, she enjoys, in the
mean time, the tranquillity which is secured to her by her constitution, her
manners, her riches, — and, above all, by the ocean which surrounds her. Placed
in so advantageous a position, that nation watches the progress of others, for the
purpose of attaching them to her car by golden chains, if they are simple enough
to listen to her flattery ; at least she attempts to hinder their advance, when a
noble independence is about to free them from her influence. Always attentive
to her own aggrandizement, by means of commerce and the arts, and by a policy
eminently mercantile, she hides her self-interest under all sorts of disguises ;
and although religion and politics, where she has to do with another people, are
quite indifferent to her, she knows how to make an adroit use of these powerful
arms, to make friends, to defeat her enemies, and to enclose all within the net
of commerce, which she is always extending in all quarters of the world. Her
sagacity must necessarily have perceived how much progress she will have
made in adding Spain to the number of her colonies, when she has persuaded
the Spanish people to fraternize with her in religion ; not so much on account
of the sympathy which such a fraternization would establish between them, as
because she would find therein a sure method of stripping the Spanish people
of that peculiar- character and grave appearance which distinguishes them from
all others, by depriving them of the only national and regenerative idea which
remains to them after so many convulsions ; from that moment, in truth, Spain,
that proud nation, would be rendered accessible to all kinds of foreign impres
sions, docile and pliable in bending to all opinions, and subject to the interests
of her astute protectors. Let it not be forgotten that there is no other nation
that conceives her plans with so much foresight, prepares them with so much
prudence, executes them with so much ability and perseverance. As she haa
remained since her great revolutions, that is, since the end of the seventeenth
cent".ry, in a settled condition, and entirely free from the convulsions under
gone r/iiice that time by other European nations, she has been able to follow a
regular .-olitical system, b^th internal and external; and her politicians have

1 . PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

bt en formed to the perfect science of government, by constantly inheriting the
experience and views of their predecessors. Her statesmen well know how im
portant it is to be prepared beforehand for every event. They deeply study
wh it may aid or impede them in other nations. They go out of the sphere of
pol tics : they penetrate to the heart of every nation over which they propose
to t stend their influence : they examine what are the conditions of its exist
ence ; what is its vital principle ; what are the causes of the strength and
enei,zy of every people.

Daring the autumn of 1805, Pitt gave a dinner in the country to some of his
friends. While thus engaged, a despatch was brought to him announcing the
surrender of Mack at Ulm, with 40,000 men, and the march of Napoleon on
Vienna. Pitt communicated the fatal news to his friends, who cried out, "All
is lost ; there is no longer any resource against him." " There is one still
left," replied the minister, "if I can excite a national war in Europe; and that
war must begin in Spain." " Yes, gentlemen," he added, " Spain will be the
first country to commence the patriotic war which shall give liberty to Europe."
Such wjkS the importance attributed by this profound statesman to a national
idea ; he expected from it what the strength of all the governments could not
ofFect, tho downfall of Napoleon, and the liberation of Europe. But it not un
commonly happens that the march of events is such, that these same national
ideas, which one time were the powerful auxiliaries of ambitious cabinets, be
come, at another, the greatest obstacles ; and then, instead of encouraging, it
becomes their interest to extinguish them. As the nature of this work will not
allow me to enter into the details of politics, I must content myself with appeal-
ino: to the judgment of those who have observed the line of conduct pursued by
England during our war ard revolution, since the death of Ferdinand VII. If
we consider what the interests of that powerful nation require for the future, we
may conjecture the part which she will take.

The means of saving a nation, by delivering it from interested protectors,
and of securing her real independence, are to be found in great and generous
ideas, deeply rooted in the people ; in feelings engraved on their hearts by the
action of time, by the influence of powerful institutions, by ancient manners
and customs ; in fine, in that unity of religious thought, which makes a whole
people as one man. Then the past is united with the present, the present is
connected with the future ; then arises in the mind that enthusiasm which is
the source of great deeds; then are found disinterestedness, energy, and con
stancy; because ideas are fixed and elevated, because hearts are great and
generous.

It is not impossible that during one of the convulsions which disturb our
unhappy country, men may arise amongst us blind enough to attempt to intro
duce the Protestant religion into Spain. We have had warnings enough to
alarm us ; we have not forgotten events which showed plainly enough how far
some would sometimes have gone, if the great majority of the nation had not
restrained them by their disapprobation. We do not dread the outrages of the
reign of Henry VIII. ; but what we do fear is, that advantage may be taken
of a violent rupture with the Holy See, of the obstinacy and ambition of some
ecclesiastics, of the pretext of establishing toleration in our country, or some
other pretext, to attempt to introduce amongst us, in some shape or other, the
doctrines of Protestantism. We certainly have no need of importing toleration
from abroad ; it already exists amongst us so fully, that no one is afraid of be
ing disturbed on account of his religious opinions. What would be thus intro
duced and established in Spain, would be a new system of religion, provided
with every thing necessary for gaining the upper hand ; and for weakening, and,
if possible, destroying Catholicity. Then would resound in our ears, with a
force constantly increasing, the fierce declamation which we have heard foi

PROTESTANTISM COMPAKED WITH CATHOLICITY. 71

several years; the vain threatenings of a party who are delirious, because they
are on the point of expiring. The aversion with which the nation regarda
the pretended Reformation, we have no doubt, would be looked upon as rebel
lion ; the pastorals of bishops would be treated as insidious persuasions, and
the fervent zeal of our priests as sedition ; the unanimity of Catholics to pre
serve themselves from contagion would be denounced as a diabolical conspiracy,
devised by intolerance and party spirit, and executed by ignorance and fanati
cism. Amid the efforts of the one party, and the resistance of the other, we
should see enacted, in a greater or less degree, the scenes of times gone by; and
although the spirit of moderation, which is one of the characteristics of this
age, would not allow the perpetration of excesses which have stained the annals
of other nations, they would not be without imitators. We must not forge
that, with respect to religion in Spain, we cannot calculate on the coldness and
indifference which other nations would now display on a similar occasion. With
the latter, religious feelings have lost much of their force, but in Spain they
are still deep, lively, and energetic ; and if they were to come into open and
avowed opposition to each other, the shock would be violent and general. Al
though we have witnessed lamentable scandals, and even fearful catastrophes in
religious matters, yet, up to this time, perverse intentions have been always
concealed by a mask, more or less transparent. Sometimes the attack was
made against a person charged with political machinations j sometimes against
certain classes of citizens, who were accused of imaginary crimes. If, at times,
the revolution exceeded its bounds, it was said that it was impossible to restrain
it, and thus the vexations, the insults, the outrages heaped upon all that was
most sacred upon earth, w^re only the inevitable results, and the work of a mob
that nothing could restrain. There has always been more or less of disguise ;
but if the dogmas of Catholicity were attacked deliberately, and with sang
froid ; if the most important points of discipline were trodden under foot; if
the most august mysteries were turned into ridicule, and the most holy ceremo
nies treated with public contempt ; if church were raised against church, and
pulpit against pulpit, what would be the result ? It is certain that minds would
be very much exasperated ; and if, as might be feared, alarming explosions did
not ensue, at least religious controversy would assume a character so violent
that we should believe ourselves transferred to the sixteenth century.

It is a common thing among us for the principles which prevail in politics to
be entirely opposed to those which rule in society; it may then easily happen
that a religious principle, rejected by society, may find support among influen
tial statesmen. We should then see reproduced, under more important circum
stances, a phenomenon which we have witnessed for so many years, viz. govern
ments attempting to alter the course of society by force. This is one of the
principal differences between our revolution and those of other countries ; it is,
at the same time, a key which explains the greatest anomalies. Everywhere
else revolutionary ideas took possession of society, and afterwards extended
themselves to the sphere of politics ; with us they first ruled in the political
sphere, ahd afterwards strove to descend into the social sphere ; society was far
from being prepared for such innovations ; this was the cause of shocks so vio
lent and so frequent. It is on account of this want of harmony that the govern
ment of Spain exercises so little influence over the people ; I mean by influence,
that moral ascendency which does not require to be accompanied by the idea of
force. There is no doubt that this is an evil, since it tends to weaken that
authority which is indispensably necessary for all societies. But on more than
one occasion it has been a great benefit. It is no slight advantage that in pre
sence of a senseless and inconstant government there is found a society full of
calmness and wisdom, and that that society pursues its quiet and majestic
march, while the government is carried away by rashness. We may expect

73 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

much from the right instinct of the Spanish nation, from her proverbial gravity
which so many misfortunes have only augmented, and from that fact, which
teaches her so well how to discern the true path to happiness, by rendering her
deaf to the insidious suggestions of those who seek to lead her astray. Al
though for so many years, owing to a fatal combination of circumstances, and a
want of harmony between the social and political order, Spain has not been
able to obtain a government which understands her feelings and instincts, fol
lows her inclinations, and promotes her prosperity, we still cherish the hope that
the day will come when from her own bosom, so fertile in future life, will come
forth the harmony which she seeks, and the equilibrium which she has lost.
In the mean time, it is of the highest importance that all men who have a
Spanish heart in their breasts, and who do not wish to see the vitals of their
country torn to pieces, should unite and act in concert to preserve her from the
genius of evil. Their unanimity will prevent the seeds of perpetual discord
from being scattered upon our soil, will ward off this additional calamity, and
will preserve from destruction those precious germs, whence may arise, with
renovated vigor, our civilization, which has been so much injured by disastrous
events.

The soul is overwhelmed with painful apprehensions at the thought that a day
may come when religious unity will be banished from among us ; that unity
which is identified with our habits, our customs, our manners, our laws; which
guarded the cradle of our monarchy in the cavern of Covadonga, and which
was the emblem on our standard during a struggle of eight centuries against
the formidable crescent; that unity which developed and illustrated our civili
zation in times of the greatest difficulty ; that unity which followed our terrible
tercios, when they imposed silence upon Europe ; which led our sailors when
they discovered the new world, and guided them when they for the first time
made the circuit of the globe ; that unity which sustains our soldiers in their
most heroic exploits, and which, at a recent period, gave the climax to their
many glorious deeds in the downfall of Napoleon. You who condemn so rashly
the work of ages ; you who offer so many insults to the Spanish nation, and
who treat as barbarism and ignorance the regulating principle of our civiliza
tion, do you know what it is you insult ? Do you know what inspired the
genius of Gonzalva, of Ferdinando Cortez, of the conqueror of Lepanto ? Do
not the shades of Garcilazo, of Herrara, of Ercilla, of Fray Luis de Leon, of
Cervantes, of Lope de Vega, inspire you with any respect ? Can you venture
to break the tie which connects us with them, to make us the unworthy poste
rity of these great men ? Do you wish to place an impassable barrier between
their faith and ours, between their manners and ours, to make us destroy all our
traditions, and to forget our most inspiring recollections ? Do you wish to pre
serve the great and august monuments of our ancestors' piety among us only as
a severe and eloquent reproach ? Will you consent to see dried up the most
abundant fountains to which we can have recourse to revive literature, to
strengthen science, to reorganize legislation, to re-establish the spirit of nation
ality, to restore our glory, and replace this nation in the high position which
her virtues merit, by restoring to her the peace and happiness which she seelu
so much anxiety, and which her heart requires?

79
CHAPTER XIII.

CATHOLICITY AND PROTESTANTISM IN RELATION TO SOCIAL PROGRESS,
PRELIMINARY COUP D'(EIL.

AFTER having placed Catholicity and Protestantism in contrast, in a religious
point of view, in the picture which I have just drawn; after having shown the
superiority of the one over the other, not only in certainty, but also in all that
regards the instincts, the feelings, the ideas, the characteristics of the human
mind, it seems to me proper to approach another question, certainly not less
important, but much less understood, and in the examination of which we shall
have to contend against strong antipathies, and to dissipate many prejudices and
errors. Amid the difficulties by which the question that I am about to under
take is surrounded, I am supported by a strong hope that the interest of the
subject, and its analogy with the scientific taste of the age, will invite a perusal j
and that I shall thereby avoid the danger which commonly threatens those who
write in favor of the Catholic religion, that of being judged without being
heard. The question may be stated thus : " When we compare Catholicity and
Protestantism, which do we find the most favorable to real liberty, to the real
progress of nations, to the cause of civilization ?" Liberty ! This is one of
those words which are as generally employed as they are little understood;
words which, because they contain a certain vague idea, easily perceived, pre
sent the deceptive appearance of perfect clearness, while, on account of the
multitude and variety of objects to which they apply, they are susceptible of a
variety of meanings, and, consequently, are extremely difficult to comprehend.
Who can reckon the number of applications made of the word liberty ? There
is always found in this word a certain radical idea, but the modifications and
graduations to which the idea is subject are infinite. The air circulates with
liberty ; we move the soil around the plant, to enable it to grow and increase
with liberty ; we clean out the bed of a stream to allow it to flow with liberty ;
when we set free a fish in a net, or a bird in a cage, we give them their liberty;
we treat a friend with freedom; we have free methods, free thoughts, free
expressions, free successions, free will, free actions; a prisoner has no liberty;
nor have boys, girls, or married people ; a man behaves with greater freedom in
a foreign country ; soldiers are not free ; there are men free from conscription,
from contributions ; we have free votes, free acknowledgments, free interpreta
tion, free evidence ; freedom of commerce, of instruction, of the press, of con
science ; civil freedom, and political freedom ; we have freedom just, unjust,
rational, irrational, moderate, excessive, limited, licentious, seasonable, unsea
sonable. But I need not pursue the endless enumeration. It seemed to me
necessary to dwell upon it for a moment, even at the risk of fatiguing the
reader ; perhaps the remembrance of all this may serve to engrave deeply on
our minds the truth, that when, in conversation, in writing, in public discus
sions, in laws, this word is so frequently employed as applied to objects of the
highest importance, it is necessary to consider maturely the number and nature
of the ideas which it embraces in the particular case, the meaning that the sub
ject needs, the modifications which the circumstances require, and the precaution
demanded in the case.

Whatever may be the acceptation in which the word liberty is taken, it is
apparent that it always implies the absence of a cause restraining the exercise
of a power. Hence it follows that, in order to fix in each case the real meaning
of the word, it is indispensable to pay attention to the circumstances as well as
to the nature of the power, the exercise of which is to be prevented or limited,
without losing sight of the various objects to which it applies, the conditions
of its exercise, as also the character, power, and extent of the means which are

JO PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

employed to restrain it. To explain this matter, let it be proposed to form •
judgment on the proposition, " Man ought to enjoy liberty of thought."

It is here affirmed that freedom of thought in man ought not to be restrained •
but do you speak of physical force exercised directly on thought itself? In
that case the proposition is entirely vain ; for as such an application of force ia
impossible, it is useless to say that it ought not to be employed. Do you mean
to say that it is not allowable to restrain the expression of thought ; that is to
say, that the liberty of manifesting thought ought not to be hindered or
restrained ? You have, then, made a great step, you have placed the question
on a different footing. Or if you do not mean to say that every man, at all
times, in all places, and on all subjects, has a right to give utterance to all that
comes into his head, and that in any way he may think proper, you must then
specify the things, the persons, the places, the times, the subjects, the condi
tions ; in short, you must note a variety of circumstances, you must prohibit
altogether in some cases, limit in others, bind in some, loosen in others; in
fine, make so many restrictions, that you will make little progress in establish
ing your general principle of freedom of thought, which at first appeared so
simple and so clear. Even in the sanctuary of thought, where human sight
does not extend, and which is open to the eye of God alone, what means the
liberty of thought ? Is it owing to chance that laws are imposed on thought to
which it is obliged to submit under pain of losing itself in chaos ? Can it
despise the rules of sound reason ? Can it refuse to listen to the counsels of
good sense ? Can it forget that its object is truth ? Can it disregard the
eternal principles of morality ? Thus we find, in examining the meaning of
the word liberty, even as applied to what is certainly freer than any thing else
in man, viz. thought — we find such a number and variety of meanings that we
are forced to make many distinctions, and necessity compels us to limit the
general proposition, if we wish to avoid saying any thing in opposition to the
dictates of reason and good sense, the eternal laws of morality, the interests
of individuals, and the peace and preservation of society. And what may not
be said of so many claims of liberty which are constantly propounded in lan
guage intentionally, vague and equivocal ?

I avail myself of these examples to prevent a confusion of ideas; for in
defending the cause of Catholicity, I have no need of pleading for oppression,
or of applauding tyranny, or of approving the conduct of those who have trod
den under foot men's most sacred rights. Yes, I say, sacred; for after the
august religion of Jesus Christ has been preached, man is sacred in the eyes of
other men on account of his origin and divine destiny, on account of the image
of God which is reflected in him, and because he has been redeemed with inef
fable goodness and love by the Son of the Eternal. This divine religion
declares the rights of man to be sacred ; for its august Founder threatens with
eternal punishment not only those who kill a man, those who mutilate or rob
him, but even those who offend him in words : " He who shall say to his
brother, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire." (Matt. v. 22.) Thus
speaks our divine Lord.

Our hearts swell with generous indignation, when we hear the religion of
Jesus Christ reproached with a tendency towards oppression. It is true that,
if you confound the spirit of real liberty with that of demagogues, you will not
find it in Catholicity ; but, if you avoid a monstrous misnomer, if you give to
the word liberty its reasonable, just, useful, and beneficial signification, then the
Catholic religion may fearlessly claim the gratitude of the human race, for she
has civilized the nations who embraced her, and civilization is true liberty.

It is a fact now generally acknowledged, and openly confessed, that Chris
tianity has exercised a very important and salutary influence on the develop
ment of European civilization; if this fact haa not yet had given to it the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 81

importance which it deserves, it is because it has not been sufficiently appreciated.
With respect to civilization, a distinction is sometimes made between the
influence of Christianity and that of Catholicity ; its merits are lavished on the
former, and stinted to the latter, by those who forget that, with respect to
European civilization, Catholicity can always claim the principal share; and,
for many centuries, an exclusive one; since, during a very long period, she
worked alone at the great work. People have not been willing to see that,
when Protestantism appeared in Europe, the work was bordering on completion;
with an injustice and ingratitude which I cannot describe, they have reproached
Catholicity with the spirit of barbarism, ignorance, and oppression, while they
were making an ostentatious display of the rich civilization, knowledge, and
liberty, for which they were principally indebted to her.

If they did not wish to fathom the intimate connection between Catholicity
and European civilization, if they had not the patience necessary for the long
investigations into which this examination would lead them, at least it would
have been proper to take a glance at the condition of countries where the
Catholic religion has not exerted all her influence during centuries of trouble,
and compare them with those in which she has been predominant. The East
and the West, both subject to great revolutions, both professing Christianity,
but in such a way that the Catholic principle was weak and vacillating in the
East, while it was energetic and deeply rooted in the West; these, we say,
would have afforded two very good points of comparison to estimate the valua
of Christianity without Catholicity, when the civilization and the existence of
nations were at stake. In the West, the revolutions were multiplied and fear
ful ; the chaos was at its height ; and, nevertheless, out of chaos came light and
life. Neither the barbarism of the nations who inundated those countries, and
established themselves there, nor the furious assaults of Islamism, even in the
days of its greatest power and enthusiasm, could succeed in destroying the
germs of a rich and fertile civilization. In the East, on the contrary, all tended
to old age and decay ; nothing revived ; and, under the blows of the power
which was ineffectual against us, all was shaken to pieces. The spiritual power
of Rome, and its influence on temporal affairs, have certainly borne fruits very
different from those produced, under the same circumstances, by its violent
opponents.

If Europe were destined one day again to undergo a general and fearful revo
lution, either by a universal spread of revolutionary ideas or by a violent inva
sion of social and proprietary rights by pauperism ; if the colossus of the North,
seated on its throne amid eternal snows, with knowledge in its head, and blind
force in its hands, possessing at once the means of civilization, and unceasingly
turning towards the East, the South, and the West that covetous and crafty look
which in history is the characteristic march of all invading empires ; if, availing
itself of a favorable moment, it were to make an attempt on the independence
of Europe, then we should perhaps have a proof of the value of the Catholic
principle in a great extremity; then we should feel the power of the unity
which is proclaimed and supported by Catholicity, and while calling to mind the
middle ages, we should come to acknowledge one of the causes of the weakness
of the East and the strength of the West. Then would be remembered a fact,
which, though but of yesterday, is falling into oblivion, viz. that the nation
whose heroic courage broke the power of Napoleon was proverbially Catholic;
and who knows whether, in the attempts made in Russia against Catholicity,
attempts which the Vicar of Jesus Christ has deplored in such touching lan
guage — who knows whether there be not the secret influence of a presentiment,
perhaps even a foresight of the necessity of weakening that sublime power,
which has been in all age«, when the cause of humanity was in question, the
centre of great attempts ? But let us return.
11

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

It cannot be denied that, since the sixteenth century, European civilizatioD
has shown life and brilliancy ; but it is a mistake to attribute this phenomenon
to Protestantism. In order to examine the extent and influence of a fact, we
ought not to be content with the events which have followed it ; it is also neces
sary to consider whether these events were already prepared ; whether they are
any thing more than the necessary result of anterior facts ; and we must take
care not to reason in a way which is justly declared to be sophistical by logi
cians, post hoc, ergo propter hoc : after that, therefore on account of it. Without
Protestantism, and before it, European civilization was already very much ad
vanced, thanks to the labors and influence of the Catholic religion ; the great
ness and splendor which it subsequently displayed were not owing to it, but
arose in spite of it.

Erroneous ideas on this matter have arisen from the fact, that Christianity
has not been deeply studied ; and that, without entering into a serious examina
tion of Church history, men have too often contented themselves with taking a
superficial view of the principles of brotherhood which she has so much recom
mended. In order fully to understand an institution, it is not enough to remain
satisfied with its leading ideas ; it is necessary to follow all its steps, see how it
realizes its ideas, and how it triumphs over the obstacles that oppose it. We
shall never form a complete idea of an historical fact, unless we carefully study
its history. Now the study of Church history in its relations with civilization,
is still incomplete. It is not that ecclesiastical history has not been profoundly
studied ; but it may be said that since the spirit of social analysis has been
developed, that history has not yet been made the subject of those admirable
labors which have thrown so much light upon it in a critical and dogmatical
point of view.

Another impediment to the complete comprehension of this matter is, that an
exaggerated importance is given to the intentions of men, and the great march
of events is too much neglected. The greatness of events is measured, and their
nature judged of, by the immediate means which produces them, and the objects
of the men whose actions are treated of; this is a very important error. The
eye ought to range over a wider field ; we ought to observe the successive de
velopment of ideas, the influence which they have exercised on events, the insti
tutions which have sprung from them ; but it is necessary to see all these things
as they are in themselves, that is, on a large scale, without stopping to consider
particular and isolated facts. It is an important truth, which ought to be deeply
engraven on the mind, that when one of those great facts which change the lot
of a considerable portion of the human race is developed, it is rarely understood
by those who take part in it, and figure as the principal actors. The march of
humanity is a grand drama ; the parts are played by persons who pass by and
disappear: man ib very little; God alone is great. Neither the actors who
figured on the scene in the ancient empires of the East, nor Alexander invading
Asia and reducing numberless nations into servitude, nor the Romans subju
gating the world, nor the barbarians overturning the empire and breaking it in
pieces, nor the Mussulmen ruling Asia and Africa and menacing the independ-,
ence of Europe, knew, or could know, that they were the instruments in the
great designs whereof we admire the execution.

^ I mean to show from this, that when we have to do with Christian civiliza
tion, when we collect and analyze the facts which distinguish its march, it ia
not necessary, or even often proper, to suppose that the men who have contri-
buted to it in the most remarkable manner understood, to the full extent, the
results of their own efforts. It is glory enough for a man to be pointed out as
the chosen instrument of Providence, without the necessity of attributing to him
great ability or lofty ambition. It is enough to observe that a ray of light has
descended from heaven and illumined his brow; it is of little importance

l-ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 83

whether he foresaw that this ray, by reflection, was destined to shed a brilliant
light on future generations. Little men are commonly smaller than they think
themselves, but great men are often greater than they imagine; if they do not
know all their grandeur, it is because they are ignorant that they are the instru
ments of the high designs of Providence. Another observation which we ought
always to have present in the study of these great events is, that we should not
expect to find there a system, the connection and harmony of which are apparent
at the first coup d'wil. We must expect to see some irregularities and objects
of an unpleasant aspect ; it is necessary to guard against the childish impatience
of anticipating the time ; it is indispensable to abandon that desire which we
always have, in a greater or less degree, and which always urges us to seek
every thing in conformity with our own ideas, and to see every thing advance
in the way most pleasing to us.

Do you not see nature herself so varied, so rich, so grand, lavish her trea
sures in disorder, hide her inestimable precious stones and her most valuable
veins of metal in masses of earth ? See how she presents huge chains of moun
tains, inaccessible rocks, and fearful precipices, in contrast with her wide and
smiling plains. Do you not observe this apparent disorder, this prodigality, in
the midst of which numberless agents work, in secret concert, to produce the
admirable whole which enchants our eyes and ravishes the lover of nature ? So
with society j the facts are dispersed, scattered here and there, frequently offer
ing no appearance of order or concert ; events succeed each other, act on each
other, without the design being discovered; men unite, separate, co-operate,
and contend, and nevertheless time, that indispensable agent in the production
of great works, goes on, and all is accomplished according to the destinies marked
out in the secrets of the Eternal.

This is the march of humanity ; this is the rule for the philosophic study of
history ; this is the way to comprehend the influence of those productive ideas,
of those powerful institutions, which from time to time appear among men to
change the face of the earth. When in a study of this kind we discover acting
at the bottom of things a productive idea, a powerful institution, the mind, far
from being frightened at meeting with some irregularities, is inspired, on the
contrary, with fresh courage ; for it is a sure sign that the idea is full of truth,
that the institution is fraught with life, when we see them pass through the
chaos of ages, and come safe out of the frightful ordeals. Of what importance
is it that certain men were not influenced by the idea, that they did not answer
the object of the institution, if the latter has survived its revolutions, and the
former has not been swallowed up in the stormy sea of the passions ? To men
tion the weaknesses, the miseries, the faults, the crimes of men, is to make the
most eloquent apology for the idea and the institution.

In viewing men in this way, we do not take them out of their proper places,
and we do not require from them more than is reasonable. We see them
enclosed in the deep bed of the great torrent of events, and we do not attribute
to their intellects, or to their will, any thing that exceeds the sphere appointed
for them ; we do not, however, fail to appreciate in a proper manner the nature
and the greatness of the works in which they take part, but we avoid giving to
them an exaggerated importance, by honoring them with eulogiums which they
do not deserve, or reproaching them unjustly. Times and circumstances are not
monstrously confounded ; the observer sees with calmness and sang froid the
events which pass before his eyes ; he speaks not of the empire of Charlemagne
as he would of that of Napoleon, and is not hurried inttf bitter invectives against
Gregory VII. because he did not ad* pt t. .e same line of political conduct ait
Gregory XVI.

Observe that I do not ask from the philosophical historian an r passive indif
ference to good and evil, to justice and iniusti".e; I do not claim ir ;algencefo»

84 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

vice, nor would I refuse to virtue its eulogy. I have no sympathj with that
school of historic fatalism, which would bring back to the world the destiny of
the ancients ; a school which, if it acquired influence, would corrupt the best
part of history, and stifle the most generous emotions. I see in the march of
society a plan, a harmony, but not a blind necessity ; I do not believe that
events are mingled up together indiscriminately in the dark urn of destiny, nor
that fatalism holds the world enclosed in an iron circle. But I see a wonderful
chain stretching over the course of centuries, a chain which does not fetter the
movements of indhiduals or of nations, and which accommodates itself to the
ebb and flow which are required by the nature of things ; at its touch great
thoughts arise in the minds of men : this golden chain is suspended by the hand
of the Eternal, it is the work of infinite intelligence and ineffable love.

CHAPTER XIV.

DID THERE EXIST AT THE EPOCH WHEN CHRISTIANITY APPEARED ANY
OTHER PRINCIPLE OF REGENERATION?

IN what condition did Christianity find the world ? This is a question which
ought to fix all our attention, if we wish to appreciate correctly the blessings
conferred by that divine religion on individuals and on society, if we are desirous
of knowing the real character of Christian civilization. Certainly at the time
when Christianity appeared, society presented a dark picture. Covered with
fine appearances, but infected to the heart with a mortal malady, it presented an
image of the most repugnant corruption, veiled by a brilliant garb of ostenta
tion and opulence. Morality was without reality, manners without modesty,
the passions without restraint, laws without authority, and religion without Grod.
Ideas were at the mercy of prejudices, of religious fanaticism, and philosophical
subtilties. Man was a profound mystery to himself; he did not know how to
estimate his own dignity, for he reduced it to the level of brutes ; and when he
attempted to exaggerate its importance, he did not know how to confine it within
the limits marked out by reason and nature : and it is well worthy of observa
tion, that while a great part of the human race groaned in the most abject
servitude, heroes, and even the most abominable monsters, were elevated to the
rank of gods.

Such elements must, sooner or later, have produced social dissolution. Even
if the violent irruption of the barbarians had not taken place, society must
have been overturned sooner or later, for it did not possess a fertile idea, a
consoling thought, or a beam of hope, to preserve it from ruin.

Idolatry had lost its strength ; it was an expedient exhausted by time and
by the gross abuse which the passions had made of it. Its fragile tissue once
exposed to the dissolving influence of philosophical observation, idolatry was
entirely disgraced ; and if the rooted force of habit still exercised a mechanical
influence on the minds of men, that influence was neither capable of re-esta
blishing harmony in society, nor of producing that fiery enthusiasm which
inspires great actions — enthusiasm which in virgin hearts may be excited by
superstition the most irrational and absurd. To judge of them by the relaxa
tion of morals, by the enervated weakness of character, by the effeminate
luxury, by the complete abandonment to the most repulsive amusements and
the most shameful pleasures, it is clear that religious ideas no longer possessed
the majesty of the heroic age ; no longer eflicacious, they only exerted on men's
minds a feeble influence, while they served in a lamentable manner as instru
ments of dissolution. Now it was impossible for it to "oe otherwise : nations
wlic had obtained the high degree of cultivation of the Greeks and Romans

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. #5

nations who had heard their great sages dispute on the grand queotijns of
divinity and man, could not continue in the state of simplicity which was
necessary to believe with good faith the intolerable absurdities of which Pagan-
ism is full ; and whatever may have been the disposition of mind among tho
ignorant portion of the people, assuredly those who were raised above the com
mon standard did not believe them — those who listened to philosophers as
enlightened as Cicero, and who daily enjoyed the malicious railleries of their
satirical poets.

If religion was impotent, was there not another means, viz. knowledge I
Before we examine what was to be hoped from this, it is necessary to observe,
that knowledge never founded a society, nor was it ever able to restore one that
had lost its balance. In looking over the history of ancient times, we find at
the head of some nations eminent men who, thanks to the magic influence which
they exercised over others, dictated laws, corrected abuses, rectified ideas,
reformed morals, and established a government on wise principles ; thus securing,
in a more or less satisfactory manner, the happiness and prosperity of those who
were confided to their care. But we should be much mistaken if we imagined
that these men proceeded according to what we call scientific combinations.
Generally simple and rude, they acted according to the impulses of their gene
rous hearts, only guided by the wisdom and good sense of the father of a family
in the management of his domestic affairs : never did these men adopt for their
rule the wretched subtilties which we call theories, the crude mass of ideas
which we disguise under the pompous name of science. Were the most dis
tinguished days of Greece those of Plato and Aristotle ? The proud Romans,
who conquered the world, certainly had not the extent and variety of knowledge
of the Augustan age ; and yet who would exchange the times or the men ?

Modern times also can show important evidences of the sterility of science
in creating social institutions ; which is the more evident as the practical effects
of the natural sciences are the more visible. It seems that in the latter sciences
man has a power which he has not in the former ; although, when the matter
'& fully examined, the difference does not appear so great as at the first view.

Let us briefly compare their respective results.

When man seeks to apply the knowledge which he has acquired of the great
laws of nature, he finds himself compelled to pay respect to her; as, whatever
might be his wishes, his weak arm could not cause any great bouleversement, he
is obliged to make his attempts limited in extent, and the desire of success
induces him to act in conformity with the laws which govern the bodies he has
to do with. It is quite otherwise with the application made of the social
sciences. There man is able to act directly and immediately on society itself,
on its eternal foundations ; he does not consider himself necessarily bound to
make his attempts on a small scale, or to respect the eternal laws of society \
he is able, on the contrary, to imagine those laws as he pleases, indulge in as
many subtilties as he thinks proper, and bring about disasters which humanity
laments. Let its remember the extravagances which have found favor, with
respect to nature, in the schools of philosophy, ancient and modern, and we
shall see what would have become of the admirable machine of the universe,
if philosophers had had full power over it. Descartes said, " Give me matter
and motion, and I will form a world !" He could not derange an atom in the
system of the universe. Rousseau, in his turn, dreamed of placing society OB
k H3w basis, and he upset the social state. It must not be forgotten that science,
properly so called, has little power in the organization of society : this ought to
be remembered in modern times, when it boasts so much of its pretended fer
tility. It attributes to its own labors what is the fruit of the lapse of ages, of
the instinctive law of nations, and sometimes of the inspirations of genius,
»cw noither this instinct of nations nor genius at all resembles science.

n

H6 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

But without pushing any further these general considerations, which are,
nevertheless, very useful in leading us to a knowledge of man, what could b»:
hoped from the false light of science which was preserved in the ruins of the
ancient schools at the time we are speaking of ? However limited the know
ledge of the ancient philosophers, even the most distinguished, may have been
on these subjects, we must allow that the names of Socrates, Plato, and Aris
totle command some degree of respect, and that amid their errors and mistake*
they give us thoughts which are really worthy of their lofty genius. But when
Christianity appeared, the germs of knowledge planted by them had been de
stroyed ; dreams had taken the place of high and fruitful thoughts, the love of
disputation had replaced that of wisdom, sophistry and subtilties had been sub
stituted for mature judgment and severe reasoning. The ancient schools had
been upset, others as sterile as they were strange had been formed out of their
ruina ; on all sides there appeared a swarm of sophists like the impure insects
which announce the corruption of a dead body. The Church has preserved for
us a very valuable means of judging of the science of that time, in the history
of the early heresies. Without speaking of what therein deserves all our in
dignation, as, for example, their profound immorality, can we find any thing
more empty, absurd, or pitiable ? (14)

The Roman legislation, so praiseworthy for its justice and equity, its wisdom
and prudence, and much as it deserves to be regarded as one of the most pre
cious ornaments of ancient civilization, was yet incapable of preventing the
dissolution with which society was threatened. Never did it owe its safety to
jurisconsults ; so great a work is beyond the sphere of action of jurisprudence.
Let us suppose the laws as perfect as possible, jurisprudence carried to the
highest point, jurisconsults animated by the purest feelings and guided by the
most honest intentions, what would all this avail if the heart of society is cor
rupt, if moral principles have lost their force, if manners are in continual oppo
sition with laws ? Let us consider the picture of Roman manners such as their
own historians have painted them j we shall not find even a reflection of the
equity, justice, and good sense which made the Roman laws deserve the glo
rious name of written reason.

To give a proof of impartiality, I purposely omit the blemishes from which
the Roman law was certainly not exempt, for I do not desire to be accused of
wishing to lower every thing which is not the work of Christianity. Yet I
must not pass over in silence the important fact, that it is by no means true
that Christianity had no share in perfecting the jurisprudence of Rome ; I do
not mean merely during the period of the Christian emperors, which does not
admit of a doubt, but even at a prior period. It is certain that some time be
fore the coming of Jesus Christ the number of the Roman laws was very con-
siderable, and that their study and arrangement already occupied the attention
of many of the most illustrious men. We know from Suetonius {In Cassar.
c. 44) that Julius Caesar had undertaken the extremely useful task of con
densing into a small number of books those which were the most select and
necessary among the immense collection of laws ; a similar idea occurred to
Cicero, who wrote a book on the methodical digest of the civil law (dejure
civili in arte redigendo), as Aulus Gellius attests. (Noct. Att. lib. i. c. 22.)
According to Tacitus, this work also occupied the attention of the Emperor
Augustus. Certainly these projects show that legislation was not in its infancy;
but it is not the less true that the Roman law, as we possess it, is in great part
the product of later ages. Many of the most famous jurists, whose opinion!
form a considerable part of the law, lived long after the coming of Jesus Christ
As to the constitutions of the emperors, their very names remind us of the
time when they were digested

These facts being established, I shall observe that it does not follow that be-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 87

cause the emperors and jurists were pagans, the Christian ideas had no influence
on their works. The number of Christians was immense in all places ; the
cruelty alone with which they had been persecuted, the heroic courage which
they had displayed in the face of torments and death, must have drawn upon
them the attention of the whole world ; and it is impossible that this should
not have excited, among men of reflection, curiosity enough to examine what
this new religion taught its proselytes. The reading of the apologies for Chris
tianity already written in the first ages with so much force of reasoning and
eloquence, the works of various kinds published by the early Fathers, the ho
milies of Bishops to their people, contain so much wisdom, breathe such a love
for truth and justice, and proclaim so loudly the eternal principles of morality,
that it was impossible for their influence not to be felt even by those who con
demned the religion of Christ. When doctrines having for their object the
greatest questions which affect man are spread everywhere, propagated with fer
vent zeal, received with love by a considerable number of disciples, and main
tained by the talent and knowledge of illustrious men, these doctrines make a
profound impression in all directions, and affect even those who warmly combat
them. Their influence in this case is imperceptible, but it is not the less true
and real. They act like the exhalations which impregnate the atmosphere; with
the air we inhale sometimes death, and sometimes a salutary odor which purifies
and strengthens us.

Such must necessarily have been the case with a doctrine which was preached
in so extraordinary a manner, propagated with so much rapidity, and the truth
of which, sealed by torrents of blood, was defended by writers such as Justin,
Clement of Alexandria, Irenaeus, and Tertullian. The profound wisdom, the
ravishing beauty of these doctrines, explained by the Christian doctors, must
have called attention to the sources whence they flowed ; it was natural that
curiosity thus excited should put the holy Scriptures into the hands of many
philosophers and jurists. Would it be strange if Epictetus had imbibed some
of the doctrines of the Sermon on the Mount, and if the oracles of jurispru
dence had imperceptibly received the inspiration of a religion whose power,
spreading in a wonderful manner, took possession of all ranks of society?
Burning zeal for truth and justice, the spirit of brotherhood, grand ideas of the
dignity of man, the continued themes of Christian instruction, could not remain
confined among the children of the Church. More or less rapidly they pene
trated all classes ; and when, by the conversion of Constantino, they acquired
political influence and imperial authority, it was only the repetition of an ordi
nary phenomenon ; when a system has become very powerful in the social order,
it ends by exerting an empire, or at least an influence, in the political.

I leave these observations to the judgment of thinking men with perfect con
fidence j I am sure that if they do not adopt them, at least they will not consider
them unworthy of reflection. We live at a time fruitful in great events, and
when important revolutions have taken place \ therefore we are better able to
understand the immense effects of indirect and slow influences, the powerful
ascendency of ideas, and the irresistible force with which doctrines work theii
way.

To this want of vital principles capable of regenerating society, to all those
elements of dissolution which society contained within itself, was joined another
evil of no slight importance, — the vice of its political organization. The world
being under the yoke of Rome, hundreds of nations differing in manners and
customs were heaped together in confusion, like spoils on the field of battle, and
30?strained to form a factitious body, like trophies placed upon a spear. The
unity of the government being violent, could not be advantageous ; and more
over, as it was despotic, from the emperor down to the lowest pro-consul, it will
be seen thai it could not produce any other result than the debasement and

$8 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

degradation of nations, and that it was impossible for them to display that ele
vation and energy of character which are the precious fruit of a feeling of self-
dignity and love for national independence. If Rome had preserved Ker ancient
manners, if she had retained in her bosom warriors as celebrated for the sim
plicity and austerity of their lives as for the renown of their victories, some of
the qualities of the conquerors might have been communicated to the conquered,
as a young and robust heart reanimates with its vigor a body attenuated by dis
ease. Unfortunately such was not the case. The Fabiuses, the Camilluses, the
Scipios, would not have acknowledged their unworthy posterity; Rome, the
mistress of the world, like a slave, was trodden under the feet of monsters who
mounted to the throne by perjury and violence, stained their sceptres with cor
ruption and cruelty, and fell by the hands of assassins. The authority of the
Senate and people had disappeared ; only vain imitations of them were left,
vestigia morientis libertatis, as Tacitus calls them, vestiges of expiring liberty;
and this royal people, who formerly disposed of kingdoms, consulships, legions,
and all, then thought only of two things, food and games,

" Qui dabat olim

Imperium, fasces, legiones, omnia, nunc se
Continet, atque duas tantum res anxius optat,
Panem et Circenses." — JUVENAL, Satire x.

At length, in the plenitude of time Christianity appeared ; and without an
nouncing any change in political forms, without intermeddling in the temporal
and earthly, it brought to mankind a twofold salvation, by calling them to the
path of eternal felicity, but at the same time bountifully supplying them with
the only means of preservation from social dissolution, the germ of a regenera
tion slow and pacific, but grand, immense, and lasting, and secure from the
revolutions of ages ; and this preservative against social dissolution, this germ
of invaluable improvements, was a pure and lofty doctrine, diffused among all
mankind, without exception of age, sex, and condition, as the rain which falls
like a mild dew on an arid and thirsty soil. No religion has ever equalled
Christianity in knowledge of the hidden means of influencing man; none has
ever, when doing so, paid so high a compliment to his dignity ; and Christianity
has always adopted the principle, that the first step in gaining possession of the
whole man is that of gaining his mind ; and that it is necessary, in order either
to destroy evil or to effect good, to adopt intellectual means : thereby it has
given a mortal blow to the systems of violence which prevailed before its exist
ence ; it has proclaimed the wholesome truth, that in influencing men, the
weakest and most unworthy method is force ; a fruitful and beneficial truth,
which opened to humanity a new and happy future. Only since the Christian
era do we find the lessons of the sublimest philosophy taught to all classes of
the people, at all times and in all places. The loftiest truths relating to God
and man, the rules of the purest morality, are not communicated to a chosen
number of disciples in hidden and mysterious instructions ; the philosophy of
Christianity has been bolder ; it has ventured to reveal to man the whole naked
truth, and that in public, with a loud voice, and that generous boldness which
is the inseparable companion of the truth. " That which I tell you in the dark,
speak ye in the light ; and that which you hear in the ear, preach ye upon the
housetop." (Matt. x. 27.)

As soon as Christianity and Paganism met face to face, the superiority of the
former was rendered palpable, not only by its doctrines themselves, but by the
manner in which it propagated them. It might easily be imagined that a reli
gion so wise and pure in its teachings, and which, in propagating them, addressed
itself directly to the mind and heart, must quickly drive from its usurped domi
nion the religion of imposture and falsehood. And, indeed, what did Paganism
do for the good of man ':' What moral truths did it teach ? How did it check

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 89

the corruption of manners? "As to morals," says St. Augustine, "\*hy have
not the gods chosen to take care of those of their adorers, and prevent their
irregularities ? As to the true God, it is with justice that He has neglected
those who did not serve Him. But whence comes it that those gods, the pro
hibition of whose worship is complained of by ungrateful men, have not esta
blished laws to lead their adorers to virtue ? Was it not reasonable that, a§
men undertook their mysteries and sacrifices, the gods, on their side, should
undertake to regulate the manners and actions of men ? It is replied, that no
one is wicked but because he wishes to be so. Who doubts this ? but the gods
ought not on that account to conceal from their worshippers precepts that might
serve to make them practise virtue. They were, on the contrary, under the
obligation of publishing those precepts aloud, of admonishing and rebuking
sinners by their prophets ; of publicly threatening punishment to those who
did evil, and promising rewards to those who did well. Was there ever heard,
in the temples of the gods, a loud and generous voice teaching any thing of the
kind ?" (De Civit. lib. ii. c. 4.) The holy doctor afterwards paints a dark pic
ture of the infamies and abominations which were committed in the spectacles
and sacred games celebrated in honor of the gods — games and shows at which
he had himself assisted in his youth ; he continues thus : " Thence it comes
that these divinities have taken no care to regulate the morals of the cities and
nations who adore them, or to avert by their threats those dreadful evils which
injure not only fields and vineyards, houses and properties, or the body which
is subject to the mind, but the mind itself, the directress of the body, which
was drenched with their iniquities. Or if it be pretended that they did make
such menaces, let them be shown and proved to us. But let there not be alleged
a few secret words whispered in the ears of a small number of persons, and
which, with a great deal of mystery, were to teach virtue. It is necessary to
point out, to name the places consecrated to the assemblies — not those in which
were celebrated games with lascivious words and gestures ; not those feasts called
fmtes, and which were solemnized with the most unbridled license ; but the
assemblies where the people were instructed in the precepts of the gods for the
repression of avarice, moderating ambition, restraining immodesty ; those where
these unfortunate beings learn what Perseus desires them to know, when he
says, in severe language, ' Learn, 0 unhappy mortals, the reason of things,
what we are, why we come into the world, what we ought to do, how miserable
is the term of our career, what bounds we ought to prescribe to ourselves in the
pursuit of riches, what use we ought to make of them, what we owe to our
neighbor, in fine, the obligations we owe to the rank we occupy among men/
Let them tell us in what places they have been accustomed to instruct the
people in these things by order of the gods ; let them show us these places, as
we show them churches built for this purpose wherever the Christian religion
has been established." (De Civit. lib. ii. c. 6.) This divine religion was too
deeply acquainted with the heart of man ever to forget the weakness and incon
stancy which characterize it; and hence it has ever been her invariable rule of
conduct unceasingly to inculcate to him, with untiring patience, the salutary
truths on which his temporal well-being and eternal happiness depend. Man
easily forgets moral truths when he is not constantly reminded of them ; or if
they remain in his mind, they are there like sterile seeds, and do not fertilize
bis heart. . It is good and highly salutary for parents constantly to communi
cate this instruction to their children, and that it should be made the principal
object of private education ; but it is necessary, moreover, that there should be
a public ministry, iiever losing sight of it, diffusing it among all classes and
ages, repairing the negligences of families, and reviving recollections and im
pressions which the passions and time constantly efface.

This system of constant preaching and instruction, practised at all times and
12 H 2

90 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY .

in all places by the Catholic Church, is so important for the enlightenment and
morality of nations, that it must be looked upon as a great good that the firpt
Protestants, in spite of their desire to destroy all the practices of the Church
have nevertheless preserved that of preaching. We need not be insensible on
this account to the evils produced at certain times by the declamation of some
factious or fanatical ministers; but as unity had been broken, as the people had
been precipitated into the perilous paths of schism, we say that it must have
been extremely useful for the preservation of the most important notions with
respect to God and man and the fundamental maxims of morality, that such
truths should be frequently explained to the people by men who had long studied
them in the sacred Scriptures. No doubt the mortal blow given to the hierarchy
by the Protestant system, and the degradation of the priesthood which was the
consequence, have deprived its preachers of the sacred characteristics of the
Holy Spirit ; no doubt it is a great obstacle to the efficacy of their preachers,
that they cannot present themselves as the anointed of the Lord, and that they
are only, as an able writer has said, men clothed in black, who mount the pulpit
every Sunday to speak reasonable things; but at least the people continue to
hear some fragments of the excellent moral discourses contained in the sacred
Scriptures, they have often before their eyes the edifying examples spread over
the Old and New Testament, and, what is still more precious, they are reminded
frequently of the events in the life of Jesus Christ,— of that admirable life, the
model of all perfection, which, even when considered in a human point of view,
is acknowledged by all to be the purest sanctity par excellence, the noblest code
of morality that was ever seen, the realization of the finest beau ideal that phi
losophy in its loftiest thoughts has ever conceived under human form, and which
poetry has ever imagined in its most brilliant dreams. This we say is useful
and highly salutary ; for it will always be salutary for nations to be nourished
with the wholesome food of moral truths, and to be excited to virtue by such
sublime examples.

CHAPTER XV.

DIFFICULTIES WHICH CHRISTIANITY HAD TO OVERCOME IN THE WORK OI

SOCIAL REGENERATION. OF SLAVERY. COULD IT BE DESTROYED WITH

MORE PROMPTNESS THAN IT WAS BY CHRISTIANITY?

ALTHOUGH the Church attached the greatest importance to the propagation
of truth, although she was convinced that to destroy the shapeless mass of im
morality and degradation that met her sight, her first care should be to expose
error to the dissolving fire of true doctrines, she did not confine herself to this*
but, descending to real life, and following a system full of wisdom and pru
dence, she acted in such a manner as to enable humanity to taste the precious
fruit which the doctrines of Jesus Christ produce even in temporal things. The
Church was not only a great and fruitful school ; she was also a rey en era five asso
ciation ; she did not diffuse her general doctrines by throwing them abroad at
hazard, merely hoping that they would fructify with time ; she developed them
in all their relations, applied them to all subjects, inoculated laws and manners
with them, and realized them in institutions which afforded silent but eloquent
instructions to future generations. Nowhere was the dignity of man acknow
ledged, slavery reigned everywhere; degraded woman was dishonored by the
corruption of manners, and debased by the tyranny of man. The feelings of
humanity were trodden under foot, infants were abandoned, the sick and aged
were neglected, barbarity and cruelty were carried to the highest pitch of atro
city in the prevailing laws of war ; in fine, on the summit of the social edifice

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 9J

was seen an odious tyranny, sustained by military force, and looking down with
an eye of contempt on the unfortunate nations that lay in fettors at its feet.

IE such a state of things it certainly was no slight task to remove error, to
reform and improve manners, abolish slavery, correct the vices of legislation,
impose a check on power, and make it harmonize with the public interest, give
new life to individuals, and reorganize family and society ; and yet nothing less
than this was done by the Church. Let us begin with slavery. This is a mat
ter which is the more to be fathomed, as it is a question eminently calculated
to excite our curiosity and affect our hearts. What abolished slavery among
Christian nations? Was it Christianity? Was it Christianity alone, by its
lofty ideas on human dignity, by its maxims and its spirit of fraternity and
charity, and also by its prudent, gentle, and beneficent conduct ? I trust I shall
prove that it was. No one now ventures to doubt that the Church exercised a
powerful influence on the abolition of slavery ; this is a truth too clear and evi
dent to be questioned. M. Guizot acknowledges the successful efforts with
which the Church labored to improve the social condition. He says : " No one
doubts that she struggled obstinately against the great vices of the social state j
for example, against slavery." But> in the next line, and as if he were reluct
ant to establish without any restriction a fact which must necessarily excite in
favor of the Catholic Church the sympathies of all humanity, he adds : " It
has been often repeated that the abolition of slavery in the modern world was
entirely due to Christianity. I believe that this is saying too much ; slavery
existed for a long time in the bosom of Christian society without exciting aston-
ishment or much opposition." M. Guizot is much mistaken if he expects to
prove that the abolition of slavery was not due exclusively to Christianity, by
the mere representation that slavery existed for a long time amid Christian
society. To proceed logically, he must first see whether the sudden abolition
of it was possible, if the spirit of peace and order which animates the Church
could allow her rashly to enter on an enterprise which, without gaining the de
sired object, might have convulsed the world. The number of slaves was im
mense ; slavery was deeply rooted in laws, manners, ideas, and interests, indi-
vidual and social • a fatal system, no doubt, but the eradication of which all at
once it would have been rash to attempt, as its roots had penetrated deeply and
spread widely in the bowels of the land.

In a census of Athens there were reckoned 20,000 citizens and 40,000 slaves ;
in the Peloponnesian war no less than 20,000 passed over to the enemy. This
we learn from Thucydides. The same author tells us, that at Chio the number
of slaves was very considerable, and that their defection, when they passed over
to the Athenians, reduced their masters to great extremities. In general, the
number of slaves was so very great everywhere that the public safety was often
compromised thereby. Therefore it was necessary to take precautions to prevent
their acting in concert. "It is necessary," says Plato (Dial. 6, de Leg.\
" that slaves should not be of the same country, and that they should differ as
much as possible, in manners and desires ; for experience has many times shown,
in the frequent defections which have been witnessed, among the Messenians,
and in other cities that had a great number of slaves of the same language, that
great evils commonly result from it." Aristotle in his Government (b. i. o. 5,
gives various rules as to the manner in which slaves ought to be treated ; it is
remarkable that he is of the same opinion as Plato, for he says : " That there
should not be many slaves of the same country." He tells us in his Politics
(b. ii. c. 7), " That the Thessalians were reduced to great embarrassments on
account of the number of their Penestes, a sort of slaves ; the same thing hap
pened to the Spartans on account of the Helotes. The Penestes have often
rebelled in Thessaly ; and the Spartans, during their reverses, have been me
naced by the plots of the Helotes." This was a difficulty which required th«

92 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

serious attention of politicians. They did not know how to prevent the incon
veniences induced by this immense multitude of slaves. Aristotle laments the
difficulty there was in finding the best way of treating them ; and we see that
it was the subject of grave cares; I will transcribe his own words : "In truth,"
he says, " the manner in which this class of men ought to be treated is a thing
difficult and full of embarrassment ; for if they are treated mildly, they become
insolent, and wish to become equal to their masters ; if th )y are treated "harshly,
they conceive hatred, and conspire."

At Rome, the multitude of slaves was such that when, at a certain period, it
was proposed to give them a distinctive dress, the Senate opposed the measure,
fearing that if they knew their own numbers the public safety would be endan
gered ; and certainly this precaution was not vain, for already, a long time be
fore, the slaves had caused great commotions in Italy. Plato, in support of the ad
vice which I have just quoted, states, " That the slaves had frequently devastated
Italy with piracy and robbery." In more recent times Spartacus, at the head
of an army of slaves, was the terror of that country for some time, and engaged
the best generals of Rome. The number of slaves had reached such an excess,
that many masters reckoned them by hundreds. "When the Prefect of Rome,
Pedanius Secundus, was assassinated, four hundred slaves who belonged to him
were put to death." (Tac. Ann. b. xiv.) Pudentila, the wife of Apulcius, had
so many that she gave four hundred to her son. They became a matter of
pomp, and the Romans vied with each other in their number. When asked
this question, quod pascit servos, how many slaves does he keep, according to
the expression of Juvenal (Sat. 3, v. 140), they wished to be able to show a
great number. The thing had reached such a pass that, according to Pliny, the
cortege of a family resembled an army.

It was not only in Greece and Italy that this abundance of slaves was found ;
at Tyre they arose against their masters, and, by their immense numbers, they
were able to massacre them all. If we turn our eyes towards barbarous nations,
without speaking of some the best known, we learn from Herodotus that the
Scythians, on their return from Media, found their slaves in rebellion, and were
compelled to abandon their country to them. Caesar in his Commentaries (de
Bello Gall. lib. vi.) bears witness to the multitude of slaves in Gaul. As their
number was everywhere so considerable, it is clear that it was quite impossible
to preach freedom to them without setting the world on fire. Unhappily we
have, in modern times, the means of forming a comparison which, although on
an infinitely smaller scale, will answer our purpose. In a colony where black
slaves abound, who would venture to set them at liberty all at once ? Now how
much are the difficulties increased, what colossal dimensions does not the dan
ger assume, when you have to do, not with a colony, but with the world ? Their
intellectual and moral condition rendered them incapable of turning such an
advantage to their own benefit and that of society; in their debasement, urged
on by the hatred and the desire of vengeance which ill-treatment had excited in
their minds, they would have repeated, on a large scale, the bloody scenes
with which they had already, in former times, stained the pages of history ; and
what would then have happened ? Society, thus endang< red, would have been
put on its guard against principles favoring liberty ; henceforth it would have
regarded them with prejudice and suspicion, and the chains of servitude, instead
of being loosened, would have been the more firmly riveted. Out of this im
mense mass of rude, savage men, set at liberty without preparation, it was
impossible for social organization to arise; for social organization is not the
creation of a moment, especially with such elements as these ; and in this case,
since it would have been necessary to choose between slavery and the annihila
tion of social order, the instinct of preservation, which animates society as wel*
is all beings, wouJd undoubtedly have brought about the contiruation of slavery

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 9S

where it still existed, and its re-establishment wnere it had been destroyed
Those who complain that Christianity did not accomplish the work of abolishing
slavery with sufficient promptitude, should remember that, even supposing a
sudden or very rapid emancipation possible, and to say nothing of the bloody
revolutions which would necessarily have been the result, the mere force of
circumstances, by the insurmountable difficulties which it would have raised,
would have rendered such a measure absolutely useless. Let us lay aside all
social and political considerations, and apply ourselves to the economical question.
First, it was necessary to change all the relations of property. The slaves
played a principal part therein ; they cultivated the land, and worked as me
chanics; in a word, among them was distributed all that is called labor; and
this distribution being made on the supposition of slavery, to take away this
would have made a disruption, the ultimate consequences of which could not
be estimated. I will suppose that violent spoliations had taken place, that a
repartition or equalization of property had been attempted, that lands had been
distributed to the emancipated, and that the richest proprietors had been com
pelled to hold the pickaxe and the plough ; I will suppose all these absurdities
and mad dreams to be realized, and I say that this would have been no remedy ;
for we must not forget that the production of the means of subsistence must be
in proportion to the wants of those they are intended to support, and that thia
proportion would have been destroyed by the abolition of slavery. The pro
duction was regulated, not exactly according to the number of the individuals
who then existed, but on the supposition that the majority were slaves; now we
know that the wants of a freeman are greater than those of a slave.

If at the present time, after eighteen cevturies, when ideas have been cor
rected, manners softened, laws ameliorated ; when nations and governments
have been taught by experience ; when so many public establishments for the
relief of indigence have been founded ; when so many systems have been tried
for the division of labor ; when riches are distributed in a more equitable man
ner ; if it is still so difficult to prevent a great number of men from becoming
the victims of dreadful misery, if that is the terrible evil, which, like a fatal
nightmare, torments society, and threatens its future, what would have been the
effect of a universal emancipation, at the beginning of Christianity, at a time
when slaves were not considered by the law as persons, but as things ; when
their conjugal union was not looked upon as a marriage ; when their children
were property, and subject to the same rules as the progeny of animals ; when,
in fine, the unhappy slave was ill-treated, tormented, sold, or put to death,
according to the caprices of his master ? Is it not evident that the cure of such
evils was the work of ages ? Do not humanity and political and social economy
unanimously tell us this ? If mad attempts had been made, the slaves them
selves would have been the first to protest against them; they would have
adhered to a servitude which at least secured to them food and shelter ; they
would have rejected a liberty which was inconsistent even with their existence.
Such is the order of nature : man, above all, requires wherewith to live ; and
the means of subsistence being wanting, liberty itself would cease to please
him. It is not necessary to allude to the individual examples of this, which
we have in abundance ; entire nations have given signal proofs of this truth.
When misery is excessive, it is difficult for it not to bring with it degradation,
stifle the most generous sentiments, and take away the magic of the words inde
pendence and liberty. " The common people," says Caesar, speaking of the
Gauls (lib. vi. de BelLo Gall.), " are almost on a level with slaves ; of themselves
they venture nothing ; their voice is of no avail. There are many of that
class, wto, loaded with debts and tributes, or oppressed by the powerful, giv«
tnemselves up into servitude to the nobles, who exercise over those who have
thus delivered themselves up the same rights as over slaves." Examples of th*

94 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

same kind are not wanting in modern times ; we know that in China there is a
great number of slaves whose servitude is owing entirely to the incapacity of
themselves or their fathers to provide for their own subsistence.

These observations, which are supported by facts that no one can deny, evi
dently show that Christianity has displayed profound wisdom in proceeding with
so much caution in the abolition of slavery.

It did all that was possible in favor of human liberty ; if it did not advance
more rapidly in the work, it was because it could not do so without compromit-
ting the undertaking — without creating serious obstacles to the desired emanci
pation. Such is the result at which we arrive when we have thoroughly
examined the charges made against some proceedings of the Church. We look
into them by the light of reason, we compare them with the facts, and in the
end we are convinced that the conduct blamed is perfectly in accordance with
the dictates of the highest wisdom and the counsels of the soundest prudence.
What, then, does M. Guizot mean, when, after having allowed that Christianity
labored with earnestness for the abolition of slavery, he accuses it of having
consented for a long time to its continuance ? Is it logical thence to infer that
it is not true that this immense benefit is due exclusively to Christianity ? That
slavery endured for a long time in presence of the Church is true ; but it was
always declining, and it only lasted as long as was necessary to realize the
benefit without violence — without a shock — without compromitting its univer
sality and its continuation. Moreover, we ought to subtract from the time of
its continuance many ages, during which the Church was often proscribed,
always regarded with aversion, and totally unable to exert a direct influence on
the social organization. We ought also, to a great extent, to make exception of
later times, as the Church had only begun to exert a direct and public influence,
when the irruption of the northern barbarians took place, which, together with
the corruption which infected the empire and spread in a frightful manner, pro
duced such a perturbation, such a confused mass of languages, customs, man
ners, and laws, that it was almost impossible to make the regulating power
produce salutary fruits. If, in later times, it has been difficult to destroy
feudality ; if there remain to this day, after ages of struggles, the remnants of
that constitution; if the slave-trade, although limited to certain countries and
circumstances, still merits the universal reprobation which is raised throughout
the world against its infamy ; how can we venture to express our astonishment
— how can we venture to make it a reproach against the Church, that slavery
continued some ages after she had proclaimed men's fraternity with each other,
and their equality before God ?

. CHAPTER XVI.

IDEAS AND MANNERS OP ANTIQUITY WITH RESPECT TO SLAVERY. THE

CHURCH BEGINS BY IMPROVING THE CONDITION OF SLAVES.

HAPPILY the Catholic Church was wiser than philosophers ; she knew hor
to confer on humanity the benefit of emancipation, without injustice or revolu
tion. She knew how to regenerate society, but not in rivers of blood. Let us
B&I what was her conduct with respect to the abolition of slavery. Much has
been already said of the spirit of love and fraternity which animates Chris
tianity, and that is sufficient to show that its influence in this work must have
been great. But perhaps sufficient care has not been taken in seeking the posi
tive and practical means which the Church employed for this end. In the dark
ness of ages, in circumstances so complicated or various, will it be possible to
discover any trace? of the path pursued by the Catholic Church in accomplish-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. Of

ing the destruction of that slavery under which a large portion of the human
race groaned ? Will it be possible to do any thing more than praise her Chris
tian charity? Will it be possible to point out a plan, a system, and to prove
the existence and development of it, not by referring to a few expressions, to
elevated thoughts, generous sentiments, and the isolated actions of a few illus
trious men, but by exhibiting positive facts, and historical documents, which
show what were the esprit de corps and tendency of the Church ? I believe
that this may be done, and I have no doubt that I shall be able to do it, by
availing myself of what is most convincing and decisive in the matter, viz. the
monuments of ecclesiastical legislation.

In the first place, it will not be amiss to remember what I have already pointed
out, viz. that when we have to do with the conduct, designs, and tendencies of
the Church, it is by no means necessary to suppose that these designs were con
ceived in their fullest extent by the mind of any individual in particular, nor
that the merit and all the prudence of that conduct was understood by those
who took part in it. It is not even necessary to suppose that the first Christians
understood all the force of the tendencies of Christianity with respect to the
abolition of slavery. What requires to be shown is, that the result has been
obtained by the doctrines and conduct of the Church, as with Catholics, (al
though they know how to esteem at their just value the merit and greatness of
each man,) individuals, when the Church is concerned, disappear. Their
thoughts and will are nothing ; the spirit which animates, vivifies, and directs
the Church, is not the spirit of man, but that of G-od himself. Those who
belong not to our faith will employ other names ; but at least we shall agree in
this, that facts, considered in this way, above the mind and the will of indivi
duals, preserve much better their real dimensions ; and thus the great chain of
events in the study of history remains unbroken. Let it be said that the con
duct of the Church was inspired and directed by God ; or that it was the result
of instinct ; that it was the development of a tendency contained in her doc
trines ; we will not now stay to consider the expressions which may be used by
Catholics, or by philosophers ; what we have to show is, that this instinct was
noble and well-directed ; that this tendency had a great object in view, and
knew how to attain it.

The first thing that Christianity did for slaves, was to destroy the errors
which opposed, not only their universal emancipation, but even the improve
ment of their condition ; that is, the first force which she employed in the attack
was, according to her custom, the force of ideas. This first step was the more
necessary, as the same thing applies to all other evils, as well as to slavery;
every social evil is always accompanied by some error which produces or foments
it. There existed not only the oppression and degradation of a large portion
of the human race, but, moreover, an accredited error, which tended more and
more to lower that portion of humanity. According to this opinion, slaves
were a mean race, far below the dignity of freemen : they were a race degraded
by Jupiter himself, marked by a stamp of humiliation, and predestined to their
state of abjection and debasement. A detestable doctrine, no doubt, and con
tradicted by the nature of man, by history and experience ; but which, never
theless, reckoned distinguished men among its defenders, and which we see pro
claimed for ages, to the shame of humanity and the scandal of reason, until
Christianity came to destroy it, by undertaking to vindicate the rights of man.
Homer tells us(0dys. 17) that "Jupiter has deprived slaves of half the mind."
We find in Plato a trace of the same doctrine, although he expresses himself, as
he is accustomed to do, by the mouth of another; he ventures to advance the
following : " It is said that, in the mind of slaves, there is nothing sound or
complete ; and that a prudent man ought not to trust that class of persons ;
*hich is equally attested by the wisest of our poets." Here Plato cites th<»

96 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

above-quoted passage of Homer (Dial. 8, de Leyibus). But it is in the Politic?
of Aristotle that we find this degrading doctrine in all its deformity and naked
ness. Some have wished to excuse this philosopher, but in vain ; his own words
condemn him without appeal. In the first chapter of his work, he explains the
constitution of the family, and attempts to state the relations of husband and
wife, of master and slave ; he states that, as the wife is by nature different from
the husband, so is the slave from the master. These are his words : " Thus the
woman and the slave are distinguished by nature itself." Let it not be said
that this is an expression that escaped from the pen of the writer; it was stated
with a full knowledge, and is a resume of his theory. In the third chapter,
where he continues to analyze the elements which compose the family, after
having stated " that a complete family is formed of free persons and slaves,"
he alludes particularly to the latter, and begins by combating an opinion which
he thinks too favorable to them : "There are some," he says, "who think that
slavery is a thing out of the order of nature, since it is the law itself which
makes some free and others slaves, while nature makes no distinction." Before
combating this opinion, he explains the relations between master and slave, by
using the comparison of artist and instrument, and that of the soul and body;
he continues thus : "If we compare man to woman, we find that the first is su
perior, therefore he commands ; the woman is inferior, therefore she obeys
The same thing ought to take place among all men. Thus it is that those among
them who are as inferior with respect to others, as the body is with respect tj the
soul, and the animal to man; those whose powers principally consist in the use of
the body, the only service that can be obtained from them, they are naturally
slaves.'1 We should imagine, at first sight, that the philosopher spoke only of
idiots ; his words would seem to indicate this ; but we shall see, by the context,
that such is not his intention. It is evident that if he spoke only of idiots, he
would prove nothing against the opinion which he desires to combat ; for the
number of them is nothing with respect to the generality of men. If he spoke
only of idiots, of what use would be a theory founded on so rare and monstrous
an exception ?

But we have no need of conjectures as to the real intention of the philoso
pher, he himself takes care to explain it to us, and tells us at the same time for
what reason he ventures to make use of expressions which seem, at first, to pJace
the matter on another level. Hio intention is nothing less than to attribute to
nature the express design of producing men of two kinds ; one born for slavery,
the other for liberty. The passage is too important and too curious to be
omitted. It is this: "Nature has taken care to create the bodies of free men
different from those of slaves ; the bodies of the latter are strong, and proper
for the most necessary labors : those of freemen, on the contrary, well formed,
although ill adapted for servile works, are proper for civil life, which consists
in the management of things in war and peace. Nevertheless, the contrary
often happens. To a free man is given the body of a slave ; and to a slave the
soul of a free man. There is no doubt that, if the bodies of some men were as
much more perfect than others, as we see is the case in the image of the Gods,
all the world would be of opinion that these men should be obeyed by those
who had not the same beauty. If this is true in speaking of the body, it is
still more so in speaking of the soul ; although it is not so easy to see the
beauty of the soul as that of the body. Thus it cannot be doubted that there
are some men born for liberty, as others are for slavery; a slavery which is not
only useful to the slaves themselves, but, moreover, just." A miserable philo
sophy, which, in order to support that degraded state, was obliged to have
recourse to such subtilties, and ventured to impute to nature the intention of cre
ating different castes, some born to command and others to obey; a cruel philo
sophy, which thus labored to break the bonds of fraternity with which th*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. U7

Author of nature has desired to knit together the human race, pretending to
raise a barrier between man and man, and inventing theories to support inequal
ity; not that inequality which is the necessary result of all social organization,
but an inequality so terrible and degrading as that of slavery.

Christianity raises its voice, and by the first words which it pronounces on
slaves, declares them equal to all men in the dignity of nature, and in the par
ticipation of the graces which the Divine Spirit diffuses upon earth. We must
remark the care with which St. Paul insists on this point ; it seems as if he had
in view those degrading distinctions which have arisen from a fatal foreetfulness
of the dignity of man. The Apostle never forgets to inculcate to the faithful
that there is no difference between the slave and the freeman. " For in one
Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Gentiles, whether
bond or free." (1 Cor. xii. 13.) " For you are all children of God, by faith in
Jesus Christ. For as many of you as have been baptized in Christ have put
on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither bond or free;
there is neither male or female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus." (Gal. iii.
26-28.) " Where there is neither Gentile nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircum-
cision, barbarian or Scythian, bond or free; but Christ is all and in all." (Colos.
iii. 11.) The heart dilates at the sound of the voice thus loudly proclaiming
the great principles of holy fraternity and equality. After having heard the
oracles of Paganism inventing doctrines to degrade still more the unhappj
slaves, we seem to awake from a painful dream, and to find ourselves in the
light of day in the midst of the delightful reality. The imagination delights
to contemplate the millions of men who, bent under degradation and ignominy,
at this voice raised their eyes towards Heaven, and were animated with hope.

It was with this teaching of Christianity as with all generous and fruitful
doctrines ; they penetrate the heart of society, remain there as a precious germ,
and, developed by time, produce an immense tree which overshadows families
and nations. When these doctrines were diffused among men, they could not
fail to be misunderstood and exaggerated. Thus there were found some who
pretended that Christian freedom was the proclamation of universal freedom.
The pleasing words of Christ easily resounded in the ears of slaves : they heard
themselves declared children of God, and brethren of Jesus Christ; they saw
that there was no distinction made between them and their masters, between
them and the most powerful lords of the earth ; is it, then, strange that men
only accustomed to chains, to labor, to every kind of trouble and degradation,
exaggerated the principles of Christian liberty, and made applications of them
which were neither just in themselves, nor capable of being reduced to practice ?
We know, from St. Jerome, that many, hearing themselves called to Christian
liberty, believed that they were thereby freed. Perhaps the Apostle alluded to
this error when, in his first epistle to Timothy, he said, "Whosoever are ser
vants under the yoke, let them count their masters worthy of all honor ; lest
the name of the Lord and His doctrines be blasphemed " (1 Timothy vi. 1.)
This error had been so general, that after three centuries it was still much cre
dited ; and the Council of Gangres, held about 324, was obliged to excommu
nicate those who, under pretence of piety, taught that slaves ought 'to quit their
masters, and withdraw from their service. This was not the teaching of Chris
tianity ; besides, we have clearly shown that it would not have been the right
way to achieve universal emancipation. Therefore this same Apostle, from
whose mouth we have heard such generous language in favor of slaves, fre
quently inculcates to them obedience to their masters ; but let us observe, that
while fulfilling this duty imposed by the spirit of peace and justice which ani
mates Christianity, ne so explains the motives on which the obedience of slaves
ought tc be based, he calls to mind the obligations of masters in such affecting
and energetic words, and establishes so expressly and conclusively the equality

90 PROTESTANTISM CO MI ARED WITH CATHOLICITY,

of all men before God, that we cannot help seeing how great was Ins compassion
for that unhappy portion of humanity, and how much his ideas on this point
differed from those of a blind and hardened world. There is in the heart of
man a feeling of noble independence, which does not permit him to subject
himself to the will of another, except when he sees that the claims to his obe
dience are founded on legitimate titles. If they are in accordance with reason
and justice, and, above all, if they have their roots in the great objects of hu
man love and veneration, his understanding is convinced, his heart is gained,
and he yields. But if the reason for the command is only the will of another,
if it is only man against man, these thoughts of equality ferment in his mind,
then the feeling of independence burns in his heart, he puts on a bold front,
and his passions are excited. Therefore, when a willing and lasting obedience
is to be obtained, it is necessary that the man should be lost sight of in the
ruler, and that he should only appear as the representative of a superior power,
or the personification of the motives which convince the subject of the justice
and utility of his submission ; thus he does not obey the will of another be
cause it is that will, but because it is the representative of a superior power, or
the interpreter of truth and justice ; then man no longer considers his dignity
outraged, and obedience becomes tolerable and pleasing.

It is unnecessary to say that such were not the titles on which was founded
the obedience of slaves before Christianity: custom placed them in the raiik of
brutes ; and the laws, outdoing it if possible, were expressed in language which
cannot be read without indignation. Masters commanded because such was
their pleasure, and slaves were compelled to obey, not on account of superior
motives or moral obligations, but because they were the property of their mas
ters, horses governed by the bridle, and mere mechanical machines. Was it,
then, strange that these unhappy beings, drenched with misfortune arid igno
miny, conceived and cherished in their hearts that deep rancor, that violent
hatred, and that terrible thirst for vengeance, which at the first opportunity ex
ploded so fearfully ? The horrible massacre of Tyre, the example and terroi
of the universe, according to the expression of Justin ; the repeated revolts of
the Penestes in Thessaly, of the Helotes in Sparta ; the defections of the slavei
of Ohio and Athens ; the insurrection under the command of Herdonius, and
the terror which it spread in all the families of Rome j the scenes of blood, thi
obstinate and desperate resistance of the bands of Spartacus ; was all this any
thing but the natural result of the system of violence, outrage, and contempt
with which slaves were treated ? Is it not what we have seen repeated in mo
dern times, in the catastrophes' of the negro colonies ? Such is the nature of
man, whoever sows contempt and outrage will reap fury and vengeance. Chris
tianity was well aware of these truths ; and this is the reason why, while preach
ing obedience, it took care to found it on Divine authority. If it confirmed to
masters their rights, it also taught them an exalted sense of their obligation.
Wherever Christian doctrines prevailed, slaves might say : " It is true that we
are unfortunate ; birth, poverty, or the reverses of war have condemned us to
misfortune j but at least we are acknowledged as men and brethren ; between
us and our masters there is a reciprocity of rights and obligations." Let us
hear the Apostle : " You, slaves, obey those who are your masters according to
the flesh, with fear and trembling, in the simplicity of your hearts, as to Jesus
Christ himself. Not serving to the eye, as it were pleasing men, but, as the ser
vants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart. With a good will serv
ing, as to the Lord, and not to men. Knowing that whatsoever good things
any man shall do, the same shall he receive from the Lord, whether he be bond
or free. And you, masters, do the same thing to them, forbearing threatenings,
knowing that the Lord both of them and you is in heaven, and there is no respect
of persons with Him.1' (Eph. vt n-9.) In the Epistle to the Colossians he in*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 98

«u utes the same doctrine of obedience anew, basing it on the samo motivss*
for, to console the unfortunate slaves, he tells them : " You shall receive of the
Loid the reward of inheritance : serve ye the Lord Christ. For he that doth
*rong shall receive for that which he hath done wrongfully, and there is no
respect of persons with God"-(Colos. iii. 24, 25); and lower down, addressing
himself to masters : "Masters, do to your servants that which is just and equal
knowing that you also have a Master in heaven." (iv. 1.)

The diffusion of such beneficent doctrines necessarily tended to improve
greatly the condition of slaves ; their immediate effect was to soften that exces
sive rigor, that cruelty which would be incredible if it were not incontrovertibly
proved. We know that the master had the right of life and death, and that
he abused that power even to putting a slave to death from caprice, as Quintus
Flaminius did in the midst of a festival. Another caused one of these unfor
tunate beings to be thrown to the fishes, because he broke a glass of crystal
This is related of Vedius Pollio ; and this horrible cruelty was not confined tc
the circle of a few families subject to a master devoid of compassion; no, cruelty
was formed into a system; the fatal but necessary result of erroneous notions on
this point, and of the forgetfulness of the sentiments of humanity. This vio
lent system could only be supported by constantly trampling upon the slave ;
and there was no cessation of tyranny until the day when he, with superior
power, attacked his master and destroyed him. An ancient proverb said, " So
many slaves, so many enemies." We have already seen the ravages committed
by men thus rendered savage by revenge, whenever they were able to break
their chains ; but certainly, when it was desired to terrify them, their masters
did not yield to them in ferocity. At Sparta, on one occasion when they feared
the ill-will of the Helotes, they assembled them all at the temple of Jupiter,
and put them to death ( Thucyd. b. iv.) At Rome, whenever a master waa
assassinated, all his slaves were condemned to death. We cannot read in Taci
tus without a shudder (Ann. 1. xiv. 43) the horrible scene which was witnessed
when the prefect of the town, Pedanius Secundus, was assassinated by one of
his slaves. Not less than four hundred were to die ; all, according to the an
cient custom, were to be led to punishment. This cruel and pitiable spectacle,
in which so many of the innocent were to suffer death, excited the compassion
of the people, who raised a tumult to prevent this horrid butchery. The Se
nate, in doubt, deliberated on the affair, when an orator named Cassius main
tained with energy that it was necessary to complete the bloody execution, not
only in obedience to the ancient custom, but also because without it it would
be impossible to preserve themselves from the ill-will of the slaves. His words
are all dictated by injustice and tyranny; he sees on all sides dangers and con
spiracies; he can imagine no other safeguards than force and terror. The fol
lowing passage is above all remarkable in his speech, as showing in a few words
the ideas and manners of the ancients in this matter: "Our ancestors," says
the senator, "always mistrusted the character of slaves, even of those who,
born on their possessions and in their houses, might be supposed to have con
ceived from their cradle an affection for their masters ; but as we have slaves
of foreign nations, differing in customs and religion, this rabble can only be
restrained by terror." Cruelty prevailed, the boldness of the people was re
pressed, the way was filled with soldiers, and the four hundred unfortunate bo-
ings were led to punishment.

To soften this cruel treatment, to banish these frightful atrocities, ought to
have been the first effect of the Christian doctrines ; and we may rest assured
that the Church never lost sight of so important an object. She devoted all
her efforts to improve as much as possible the condition of slaves ; in punish
ments she caused mildness to be substiiuted for cruelty; and what wab more
important than all, she labored to put reason iu the place of caprice, and U

100 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

make the impetuosity of masters yield to the calmness of judges; that is ta
say, she every day assimilated the condition of slaves more and more to that of
freemen, by making right and not might reign over them. The Church never
forgot the noble lesson which the Apostle gave when writing to Philemon, and
interceding in favor of a fugitive slave named Onesimus ; he spoke in his favor
with a tenderness which this unhappy class had never before inspired : " I be
seech thee," he says to him, " for my son Onesimus. Receive him as my own
bowels ; no more as a slave, but as a most dear brother. If he hath wronged
thee in any thing, or is in thy debt, put that to my account." (Epis. to Phil.)
The Council of Elvira, held in the beginning of the fourth century, subjects
the woman who shall have beaten her slave so as to cause her death in three
days to many years of penance; the Council of Orleans, held in 549, orders
that if a slave guilty of a fault take refuge in a church, he is to be restored to
his master, but not without having exacted from the latter a promise, confirmed
by oath, that he will not do him any harm ; that if the master, in violation of
his oath, maltreat the slave, he shall be separated from the communion of the
faithful and the sacraments. This canon shows us two things : the habitual
cruelty of masters, and the zeal of the Church to soften the treatment of slaves.
To restrain this cruelty, nothing less than an oath was required ; and the Church,
always so careful in these things, yet considered the matter important enough to
justify and require the invocation of the sacred name of God.

The favor and protection which the Church granted to slaves rapidly extended.
It seems that in some places the custom was introduced of requiring a promise
on oath, not only that the slave who had taken refuge in the church should not
be ill-treated in bis person, but even that no extraordinary work should be im
posed on him, and that he should wear no distinctive mark. This custom, pro
duced no doubt by zeal for humanity, but which may have occasioned some in
conveniences by relaxing too much the ties of obedience, and allowing excesses
on the part of slaves, appears to be alluded to in a regulation of the Council of
Epaone (now Abbon, according to some), held about 517. This Council labors
to stop the evil by prescribing a prudent moderation ; but without withdrawing
the protection already granted. It ordains, in the 39th canon, " That if a slave,
guilty of any atrocious offence, takes refuge in a church, he shall be saved from
corporal punishment ; but the master shall not be compelled to swear that he
will not impose on him additional labor, or that he will not cut off his hair,
in order to make known his fault." Observe that this restriction is introduced
only in the case when the slave shall have committed a heinous offence, and
even in this case all the power allowed to the master consists in imposing on the
slave extraordinary labor, or distinguishing him by cutting his hair.

Perhaps such indulgence may be considered excessive ; but we must observe
that when abuses are deeply rooted, they cannot be eradicated without a vigor
ous effort. At first sight it often appears as if the limits of prudence were
passed ; but this apparent excess is only the inevitable oscillation which is ob
served before things regain their right position. The Church had therein no
wish to protect crime, or give unmerited indulgence ; her object was to check
the violence and caprice of masters ; she did not wish to allow a man to suffer
torture or death because such was the will of another. The establishment of
just laws and legitimate tribunals, the Church has never opposed ; but she has
never given her consent to acts of private violence. The spirit of opposition to
the exercise of private force, which includes social organization, is clearly shown
to us in the 15th canon of the Council of Merida, held in 666. I have already
shown that slaves formed a large portion of property. As the division of labor
was made in conformity with this principle, slaves were absolutely necessary to
those who possessed property, especially when it was considerable. Now the
Church found this to be the case ; and as she could not change the organizatioD

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 101

of society on a sudden, she was obliged to yield to necessity, and admit slavery
But if she wished to introduce improvements in the lot of slaves in general, it
was good for her to set the example herself : this example is found in the canon
I have just quoted. There, after having forbidden the bishops and priests to
maltreat the servants of the Church by mutilating their limbs, the Council
ordains that if a slave commit an offence, he shall be delivered to the secular
judges, but so that the bishops shall moderate the punishment inflicted on him.
We see by this canon that the right of mutilation exercised by private masters
was still in use; and perhaps it was still more strongly established, since we see
that^the Council limits itself to interdicting that kind of punishment to eccle
siastics, without^saying any thing as to laymen. No doubt, one of the motives
for this prohibition made to ecclesiastics, was to prevent their shedding human
blood, and thus rendering themselves incapable of exercising their lofty minis
try, the principal act of which is the august sacrifice in which they offer a vic
tim of peace and love ; but this does not in any way detract from the merit of
the regulation, or at all diminish its influence on the improvement of the con
dition of slaves. It was the substitution of public vengeance for private ; it
was again to proclaim the equality of slaves and freemen with respect to the
effusion^ of their blood ; it was to declare that the hands which had shed the
blood of a slave, _had contracted the same stain as if they had shed that of a
freeman. Now, it was necessary to inculcate these salutary truths on men's
minds in every way, for they ran in direct contradiction to the ideas and man
ner* of antiquity; it was necessary to labor assiduously to destroy the shameful
and cruel ^exceptions which continued to deprive the majority of mankind of a
participation in the rights of humanity There is, in the canon which I have
just quoted, a remarkable circumstance, which shows the solicitude of the
Church to restore to slaves the dignity and respect of which they had been de
prived. To shave the hair of the head was among the Goths a very ignomi
nious punishment ; which, according to Lucas de Tuy, was to them more cruel
than death itself. It will be understood, that whatever was the force of preju
dice on this point, the Church might have allowed the shaving of the hair with
out incurring the stain which was.attached to the shedding of blood. Yet she
was not willing to allow it, which shows us how attentive she was to destroy the
marks of humiliation impressed on slaves. After having enjoined priests and,
bishops to deliver criminal slaves to the judges, she commands them "not to'
allow them to be shaved ignominiously." No care was too great in this matter;
to destroy one after another the odious exceptions which affected slaves, it was
necessary to seize upon all favorable opportunities. This necessity is clearly
shown by the manner in which the eleventh Council of Toledo, held in 675,
expresses itself. This Council, in its 6th canon, forbids bishops themselves to
judge crimes of a capital nature, as it also forbids them to order the mutilation
of members. Behold in what terms it was considered necessary to state that
this rule admitted of no exception ; " not even," says the Council, " with
respect to the slaves of the Church." The evil was great, it could not be cured
without assiduous care. Even the right of life and death, the most cruel of all,
could not be extirpated without much trouble ; and cruel applications of it were
made in the beginning of the sixth century, since the Council of Epaone, in its
34th canon, ordains that "the master who, of his own authority, shall take
away the life^of his slave, shall be cut off for two years from the communion of
the Church/' After the middle of the ninth century, similar attempts were
dtill made, and the Council of Worms, held in 868, labored to repress them, '
by subjecting to two years of penance the master wt o, of his own authority
shall have put his slave to death.

102

CHAPTER XVII.

MEANS EMPLOYED BY THE CHURCH TO ENFRANCHISE SLAVES.

WHTLE improving the condition of slaves and assimilating it as much u
possible to that of freemen, it was necessary not to forget the universal eman
cipation ; for it was not enough to ameliorate slavery, it was necessary to abolish
it. The mere force of Christian notions, and the spirit of charity which was
spread at the same time with them over the world, made so violent an attack on
the state of slavery, that they were sure sooner or later to bring about its com
plete abolition. It is impossible for society to remain for a long time under an
order of things which is formally opposed to the ideas with which it is imbued.
According to Christian maxims, all men have a common origin and the same
destiny; all are brethren in Jesus Christ; all are obliged to love each other
with all their hearts, to assist each other in their necessities, to avoid offending
each other even in words ; all are equal before God, for they will all be judged
without exception of persons. Christianity extended and took root everywhere
— took possession of all classes, of all branches of society; how, then, could
the state of slavery last — a state of degradation which makes man the property
of another, allows him to be sold like an animal, and deprives him of the
sweetest ties of family and of all participation in the advantages of society?
Two things so opposite could not exist together; the laws were in favor of
slavery, it is true ; it may even be said that Christianity did not make a direct
attack on those laws. But, on the other hand, what did it do ? It strove to
make itself master of ideas and manners, communicated to them a new impulse,
and gave them a different direction. In such a case, what did laws avail ?
Their rigor was relaxed, their observance was neglected, their equity began to
be doubted, their utility was disputed, their fatal effects were remarked, and
they gradually fell into desuetude, so that sometimes it was not necessary to
strike a blow to destroy them. They were thrown aside as things of no use ;
or, if they deserved the trouble of an express abolition, it was only for the sake
of ceremony; it was a body interred with honor.

But let it not be supposed, after what I have just said, that in attributing so
much importance to Christian ideas and manners, I mean that the triumph of
these ideas and manners was abandoned to that force alone, without that co
operation on the part of the Church which the time and circumstances required.
Quite the contrary : the Church, as I have already pointed out, called to her
aid all the means the most conducive to the desired result. In the first place,
it was requisite, to secure the work of emancipation, to protect from all assault
the liberty of the freed — liberty which unhappily was often attacked and put in
great danger. The causes of this melancholy fact may be easily found in the
remains of ancient ideas and manners, in the cupidity of powerful men, the
system of violence made general by the irruptions of the barbarians, in the
poverty, neglect, and total want of education and morality in which slaves must
have been when they quitted servitude. It must he supposed that a great
number of them did not know all the value of liberty , that they did not always
conduct themselves, in their new state, according to tho dictates of reason and
the exigences of justice ; and that, newly entered ~m the possession of the right:
of freemen, they did not know how to fulfil *ll then n<w obligations. Bu
these different inconveniences, inseparable froi>. the oaturc of things, won-, not
'o hinder the consummation of an enterprise tailed foi K-th by religion anc
humanity, and it was proper to be resigned to them from the consideration o<
the numerous motives for excusing the conduct of f.h*> enfranchised ; the stai*
which these men had just quitted had checked tb-> r>T™»iopment of their monk
intellectual faculties.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 103

The liberty of newly-emancipated slaves was protected against the attacks of
icjustice, and clothed with an inviolable sanctity, from the time that their
enfranchisement was connected with things which then exercised the most pow
erful ascendency. Now the Church, and all that belonged to her, was in this
influential position ; therefore the custom, which was then introduced, of per
forming the manumission in the churches, was undoubtedly very favorable to
the progress of liberty. This custom, by taking the place of ancient usages,
caused them to be forgotten ; it was, at the same time, a tacit declaration of the
value of human liberty in the sight of Glod, and a proclamation, with additional
authority, of the equality of men before Him j for the manumission was made
in the same place where it was so often read, that before Him there was no ex-
seption of persons ; where all earthly distinctions disappeared, and all men were
commingled and united by the sweet ties of fraternity and love. This method
of manumission more clearly invested the Church with the right of defending
the liberty of the enfranchised. As she had been witness to the act, she could
testify to the spontaneity and the other circumstances which assured its validity;
Bhe could even insist on its observance, by representing that the promised liberty
could not be violated without profaning the sacred place, without breaking a
pledge which had been given in the presence of God himself. The Church did
not forget to turn these circumstances to the advantage of the freed. Thus we
see that the first Council of Orange, held in 441, ordains, in its 7th canon, that
it was necessary to check, by ecclesiastical censures, whoever desired to reduce
to any kind of servitude slaves who had been emancipated within the enclosure
of the church. A century later we find the same prohibition repeated in the
7th canon of the fifth Council of Orleans, held in 549.

The protection given by the Church to freed slaves was so manifest and
known to all, that the custom was introduced of especially recommending them
to her. This recommendation was sometimes made by will, as the Council of
Orange, which I have just quoted, gives us to understand; for it orders that
the emancipated who had been recommended to the Church by will, shall be
protected from all kinds of servitude, by ecclesiastical censures.

But this recommendation was not always made in a testamentary form. We
read in the sixth canon of the sixth Council of Toledo, held in 589, that when
any enfranchised persons had been recommended to the Church, neither they
nor their children could be deprived of the protection of the Church : here they
speak in general, without limitation to cases in which there had been a will.
The same regulation may be seen in another Council of Toledo, held in 633,
which simply says, that the Church will receive under her protection only
the enfranchised of individuals who shall have taken care to recommend them
to her.

In the absence of all particular recommendation, and even when the manu
mission had not been made in the Church, she did not cease to interest herself
in defending the freed, when their liberty was endangered. He who has any
regard for the dignity of man, and any feeling of humanity in his heart, will
certainly not find it amiss that the Church interfered in affairs of this kind ;
indeed, she acted as every generous man should do, in the exercise of the right
of protecting the weak. We shall not be displeased, therefore, to find in the
twenty-ninth canon of the Council of Agde in Languedoc, held in 506, a regu
lation commanding the Church, in case of necessity, to undertake the defence
of those to whom their masters had given liberty in a lawful way.

The zeal of the Church in all times and places for the redemption of captives
has no less contributed to the great work of the abolition of slavery,
that a considerable portion of slaves owed their servitude to tl
war. The mild character which we see in modern wars would ,
fabulous to the ancients. Woe to the vanquished ! might

101 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

perfect truth ; there was nothing but slavery or death. The evil was rendered
still greater by a fatal prejudice, which was felt with respect to the redemption
of captives — a prejudice which was, nevertheless, founded on a trait of remark
able heroism. No doubt the" heroic firmness of Regulus is worthy of all admi
ration. The hair stands upon our head when we read the powerful description
of Horace ; the book falls from our hands at this terrible passage :

" Fertur pudicae conjugis osculuin
Parvosque natos, ut capitis minor,
Ab se reinovisse, et virilem
Torvus humi posuisse vultum." — Lib. iii. od. 5.

Nevertheless, if we lay aside the deep impression which such heroism produces
on us, and the enthusiasm at all that shows a great soul, we must confess that
th'.s virtue bordered on ferocity ; and that, in the terrible discourse of Regulus,
that is a cruel policy, against which the sentiments of humanity would strongly
recoil, if the mind were not, as it were, prostrated at the sight of the sublime
disinterestedness of the speaker. Christianity could not consent to such doc
trines ; it could not allow the maxim to be maintained that, in order to render
men brave in battle, it was necessary to deprive them of hope. The wonderful
traits of valor, the magnificent scenes of force and constancy, which shine in
every page of the history of modern nations, eloquently show that the Christian
religion was not deceived ; gentleness of manners may be united with heroism.
The ancients were always in excess, either in cowardice or ferocity j between
these two extreme? there is a middle way, and that has been taught to mankind
by the Christian religion. Christianity, in accordance with its principles of
fraternity and love, regarded the redemption of captives as one of the worthiest
objects of its charitable zeal. Whether we consider the noble traits of parti
cular actions, which have been preserved to us by history, or observe the spirit
which guided the conduct of the Church, we shall find therein one of the most
distinguished claims of the Christian religion to the gratitude of mankind.

A celebrated writer of our times, M. de Chateaubriand, has described to us
a Christian priest who, in the forests of France, voluntarily made himself a
slave, who devoted himself to slavery for the ransom of a Christian soldier, and
thus restored a husband to his desolate wife, and a father to three unfortunate
orphan children. The sublime spectacle which Zachary offers us, when endur
ing slavery with calm serenity for the love of Jesus Christ, and for the unhappy
being for whom he has sacrificed his liberty, is not a mere fiction of the poet.
More than once, in the first ages of the Church, such examples were seen ; and
he who has wept over the sublime disinterestedness and unspeakable charity of
Zachary, may be sure that his tears are only a tribute to the truth. " We
have known," says St. Clement the Pope, " many of ours who have devoted
themselves to captivity, in order to ransom their brethren/' (First Letter to the
Corinth, c. 55.) The redemption of captives was so carefully provided for by
the Church that it was regulated by the ancient canons, and to fulfil it. she
gold, if necessary, her ornaments, and even the sacred vessels. When unhappy
captives were in question, her charity and zeal knew no bounds, and she went
PO far as to ordain that, however bad might be the state of her affairs, their
ransom should be provided for in the first instance. (Caus. 12, 5, 2.) In the
midst of revolutions produced by the irruption of barbarians, we see that the
Church, always constant in her designs, forgot not the noble enterprise in which
she was engaged. The beneficent regulations of the ancient canons fell not into
forgetfulness or desuetude, and the generous words of the holy Bishop of Milan,
in favor of slaves, found an echo which ceased not to be heard amid the chaos
of those unhappy times. We see by the fifth canon of the Council of Mfoon,
ueld in 585, that priests undertook the ransom of captives by devoting to it the
• Chinch property. The Council of Rheims, held in 625, inflicts the punisbmen*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 105

.of Huspenedon from his functions on the bishop who shall have destroyed thu
sacred vessels; but with generous foresight, it adds, "for any other motive
than the redemption of captives;" and long afterwards, in the twelfth canon
of the Council of Verneuil, held in 844, we find that the property of the Church
was used for that merciful purpose. When the captive was restored to liberty,
the Church did not deprive him of her protection ; she was careful to continue
it, by giving him letters of recommendation, for the double purpose of protect
ing him from new trouble during his journey, and of furnishing him with the
means of repairing his losses during his captivity. We find a proof of this new
kind of protection in the second canon of the Council of Lyons, held in 583,
which ordains that bishops shall state in the letters of recommendation which
they give to captives, the date and price of their ransom. The zeal for this
work was displayed in the Church with so much ardor, that it went so far as to
commit acts of imprudence which the ecclesiastical authority was compelled to
check. These excesses, and this mistaken zeal, prove how great was the spirit
of charity. We know by a Council, called that of St. Patrick, held in Ireland
in the year 451 or 456, that some of the clergy ventured to procure the free
dom of captives by inducing them to run away. The Council, by its thirty-
second canon, very prudently checks this excess, by ordaining that the ecclesiastic
who desires to ransom captives must do so with his own money; for to steal
them, by inducing them to run away, was to expose the clergy to be considered
as robbers, which was a dishonor to the Church. A remarkable document,
which, while showing us the spirit of order and equity which guides the Church,
at the same time enables us to judge how deeply was engraved on men's minds
the maxim, that it is holy, meritorious, and yenerous to give liberty to captives ;
for we see that some persons had persuaded themselves that the excellence of
the work justified seizing them forcibly. The disinterestedness of the Church
on this point is not less laudable. When she had employed her funds in the
ransom of a captive, she did not desire from him any recompense, even when
he had it in his power to discharge the debt. We have a certain proof of this
in the letters of St. Gregory, where we see that that Pope reassures some per
sons who had been freed with the money of the Church, and who feared that
after a time they would be called upon to pay the sum expended for their
advantage. The Pope orders that no one, at any time, shall venture to disturb
either them or their heirs, seeing that the sacred canons allow the employment
of the goods of the Church for the ransom of captives. (L. 7, ep. 14.)

The zeal of the Church for so holy a work must have contributed in an extra
ordinary way to diminish the number of slaves ; the influence of it was so much
the more salutary, as it was developed precisely at the time when it was most
needed, that is, in those ages when the dissolution of the Roman empire, the
irruption of the barbarians, the fluctuations of so many peoples, and the ferocity
of the invading nations, rendered wars so frequent, revolutions so constant, and
the empire of force so habitual and prevailing. Without the beneficent and
liberating intervention of Christianity, the immense number of slaves be
queathed by the old society to the new, far from diminishing, would have been
augmented more and more ; for wherever the law of brute force prevails, if it
be not checked and softened by a powerful element, the human race becomes
rapidly debased, the necessary result of which is the increase of slavery. Thig
lamentable state of agitation and violence was in itself very likely to render
the eiforts which the Church made to abolish slavery useless ; and it was not
without infinite trouble that she prevented what she succeeded in preserving on
one side, from being destroyed on the other. The absence of a central power,
the complication of social relations, almost always badly determined, often
affected by violence, and always deprived of the guarantee of stability and con.
aistency, was the reason why there was no security either for things or persona,
14

106 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY,

and that while properties were unceasingly invaded, persons were deprived of
their liberty. So that it was at that time necessary to fight against the violence
of individuals, as had been formerly done against manners and legislation.
We see that the third canon of the Council of Lyons, held about 566, excom
municates those who unjustly retain free persons in slavery ; in the seventeenth
canon of the Council of Rheinis, held in 625, it is forbidden, under the same
penalty, to pursue free persons in order to reduce them to slavery : in the twenty-
seventh canon of the Council of London, held in 1102, the barbarous custom
of dealing in men, like animals, is proscribed : and in the seventh canon of the
Council of Coblentz, held in 922, he who takes away a Christian to sell him ia
deslared guilty of homicide ; a remarkable declaration, when we see liberty
valued at as high a price as life itself. Another means of which the Church
availed herself to abolish slavery was, to preserve for the unfortunate who had
been reduced to that state by misery, a sure means of quitting it.

We have already remarked above that indigence was one of the causes of
slavery, and we have seen that this was frequently the cause among the Gauls,
as is evidenced by a passage of Caesar. We also know that by virtue of an
ancient law, he who had fallen into slavery could not recover his liberty without
the consent of his master ; as the slave was really property, no one could dis
pose of him without the consent of his master, and least of all himself. This
law was in accordance with Pagan doctrines, but Christianity regarded the thing
differently ; and if the siave was still in her eyes a property, he did not cease
to be a man. Thus on this point the Church refused to follow the strict rules
of other properties ; and when there was the least doubt, at the first favorable
opportunity she took the side of the slave. These observations make us uiider-
btand all the value of the new law introduced by the Church, which ordained
that persons who had been sold by necessity should be able to return to their
former condition by restoring the price which they had received. This law,
which is expressly laid down in a French Council, held about 616 at Boneuil
according to the common opinion, opened a wide field for the conquests of
liberty ; it supported in the heart of the slave a hope which urged him to seek
and put into operation the means of obtaining his ransom, and it placed his
liberty within the power of any one who, touched with his unhappy lot, was
willing to pay or lend the necessary sum. Let us remember what we have said
of the ardent zeal which was awakened in so many hearts for works of this
kind ; let us call to mind that the property of the Church was always considered
as well employed when it was used for the succor of the unfortunate, and we
shall understand the incalculable influence of the regulation which we have just
mentioned. We shall see that it was to close one of the most abundant sources
of slavery, and prepare a wide path to universal emancipation.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

THE conduct of the Church with respect to the Jews also contributed to the
abolition of slavery. This singular people, who bear on their forehead the mark
of proscription, and are found dispersed among all nations, like fragments of
insoluble matter floating in a liquid, seek to console themselves in their misfor
tune by accumulating treasures, and appear to wish to avenge themselves for
the contemptuous neglect in which they are left by other nations, by gaining
possession of their wealth by means of insatiable usury. In times when revo
lutions and so many calamities must necessarily Jiave produced distress, the
»di ^is rice of unfeeling avarice must have had a fatal influence. The harsh

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOL10IT Y. 107

.less and cruelty of ancient laws and manners concerning debtors were not
effaced, liberty was far from being estimated at its just value, and examples of
persons who sold it to relieve their necessities were not wanting; it was thore-
fore important to prevent the power of the wealthy Jews from reaching an
exorbitant extent, to the detriment of the liberty of Christians. The unhappy
notoriety which, after so many centuries, attaches to the Jews in this matter,
proves that this danger was not imaginary; and facts of which we are now
witnesses are a confirmation of what we advance. The celebrated Herder, in his
Adrastus, ventures to prognosticate that the children of Israel, from their sys
tematic and calculating conduct, will in time make slaves of all Christians. If
this extraordinary and extravagant apprehension could enter the head of a dis
tinguished man, in circumstances which are certainly infinitely less favorable to
the Jews, what was to be feared from this people in the unhappy times of which
we speak ? From these considerations, every impartial observer, every man who
is not under the influence of the wretched desire of taking the part of every
kind of sect, in order to have the pleasure of accusing the Catholic Church,
even at the risk of speaking against the interests of humanity; every observer
who is not one of those who are less alarmed by an irruption of Caffres than
by any regulation by which the ecclesiastical power appears in the smallest
degree to extend the circle of its prerogative ; every man, I say, who is neither
thus bitter, little, nor pitiful, will see, not only without being scandalized, but
even with pleasure, that the Church, with prudent vigilance, watched the pro
gress of the Jews, and lost no opportunity of favoring their Christian slaves,
until they were no longer allowed to have any.

The third Council of Orleans, held in 538, by its 13th canon, forbids Jews to
compel Christian slaves to do things contrary to the religion of Jesus Christ.
This regulation, which guarantied the liberty of the slave in the sanctuary of
conscience, rendered him respectable even in the eyes of his master : it was
besides a solemn proclamation of the dignity of man, it was a declaration that
slavery could not extend its dominion over the sacred region of the mind. Yet
this was not enough ; it was proper also that the recovery of their liberty should
be facilitated to the slaves of Jews. Three years only pass away ; a fourth
Council is held at Orleans ; let us observe the progress which thu question had
made in so short a time. This Council, by its 30th canon, allows the Christian
slaves who shall take refuge in the church to be ransomed, on paying to their
Jewish master the proper price. If we pay attention, we shall see that such a
regulation must have produced abundant results in favor of liberty, as it gave
Christian slaves the opportunity of flying to the churches, and there imploring,
with more effect, the charity of their brethren, to gain the price of their ran
som. The same Council, in its 31st canon, ordains that the Jew who shall per
vert a Christian slave shall be condemned to lose all his slaves ; a new sanction
given to the security of the slave's conscience — a new way opened to liberty.
The Church constantly advanced with that unity of plan — that admirable con
sistency — whieh even her enemies have acknowledged in her. In the short
interval between the period alluded to and the latter part of the same cen
tury, her progress was more perceptible. We observe, in the canonical regula
tions cf the latter period, a wider scope, and, if we may so speak, greater bold
ness. In the Council of Macon, held in 581 or 582, canon 16, Jews are ex
pressly forbidden to have Christian slaves ; and it is allowed to ransom those
who are in their possession for twelve sous. We find the same prohibition in
the 14th canon of the Council of Toledo, held in 589 ; so that at this time the
Ohurch shows what her desire is ; she is unwilling that a Christian should be in
any way the slave of a Jew. Constant in her design, she checked the evil by
all the means in her power; if it was necessary, limiting the right of sell
ing slaves, when there was danger of their falling into the hands of Jews

108 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Thus we see that, by the 9th canon of the Council of Chalons, held in 650, il
is forbidden to sell slaves out of the kingdom of Clovis, lest they should fall
into the power of Jews. Yet the intention of the Church on this point was not
understood by all, and her views were not seconded as they ought to have been ;
but she did not cease to repeat and inculcate them. In the middle of the seventh
century there were found clergy and laity who sold their Christian slaves tc
Jews. The Church labored to check this abuse. The tenth Council of Toledo,
held in 657, by its 7th canon, forbids Christians, and especially clerics, to sell
their slaves to Jews ; the Council adds these noble words : " They cannot be
ignorant that these slaves have been redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ ;
wherefore they ought rather to buy than sell them."

This ineffable goodness of a God made man, who had shed His blood for the
redemption of ail men, was the powerful motive which urged the Church to
interest herself with so much zeal in the enfranchisement of slaves ; and, in
deed, was it not enough to inspire horror for so degrading an inequality, to
think that these same men, reduced to the level of brutes, had been, as well as
their masters, as well as the most powerful monarchs upon earth, the objects
of the merciful intentions of the Most High ? " Since our Redeemer, the
Creator of all things," said Pope S. Gregory, " has deigned, in His goodness,
to assume the flesh of man, in order to restore to us our pristine liberty, by
breaking, through the means of His Divine grace, the bonds of servitude, which
held us captives, it is a salutary deed to restore to men, by enfranchisement,
their native liberty ; for, in the beginning, nature made them all free, and they
have only been subjected to the yoke of servitude by the law of nations/1
(L. 5, lett. 72.)

During all times the Church has considered it very necessary to limit, as
much as possible, the alienation of her property; and it may be said that the
general rule of her conduct in this point was to trust very little to the discretion
of any one of her ministers individually; she thus endeavored to prevent dila
pidations, which otherwise would have been frequent. As her possessions were
dispersed on all sides, and intrusted to ministers chosen from all classes of the
people, and exposed to the various influences which the relations of blood, friend
ship, and a thousand other circumstances, the effects of difference of character,
knowledge, prudence, and even of times and places, always exercise, the Church
showed herself very watchful in giving her sanction to the power of alienation;
and, when requisite, she knew how to act with salutary rigor against those mi
nisters who, neglecting their duty, wasted the funds confided to them. We
have seen that, in spite of all this, she was not stopped by any consideration
when the ransom of captives was in question ; it may be also shown that, with
respect to property in slaves, she saw things in a different light, and changed
her rigor into indulgence. When slaves had faithfully served the Church, the
Bishops could grant them their liberty, and add a gift to assist them in main
taining themselves. This judgment as to the merit of slaves appears to have
been confided to the discretion of the Bishops ; and it is evident that such a
regulation opened a wide door to their charity; at the same time, it stimulated
the slaves to behave themselves, so as to deserve so precious a recompense. As
it might happen that the succeeding Bishop might raise doubts as to the suffi
ciency of the motives which induced his predecessor to give liberty to a slave,
and attempt afterwards to call it in question, it was ordained that they should
respect the appointments of their predecessors on this point, and leave to the
enfranchised not only their liberty, but also the gratuity which had been given
to them in lands, vineyards, or houses : this is prescribed in the 7th canon of
the Council of Agde in Languedoc, held in the year 506-. Let it not be ob
jected that manumission is forbidden by the canons of this Council in other
places; they speak only in general terms, and allude not to cases where slave*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 109

had merited well. Alienations or mortgages made by a Bishop who left no pro
perty were to be revoked. This regulation itself shows that it alludes to casea
in which the Bishops had acted against the canons. Yet if he had given liberty
to any slaves, the rigor of the law was mitigated in their favor, and it was
ordained that the enfranchised should continue to enjoy their liberty. This is
ordained by the 9th canon of the Council of Orleans, held in 541. This canon
only imposes on the enfranchised the obligation of lending their services to the
Church ; services which were evidently only those of the enfranchised. On the
other hand, she recompensed them with the protection which she always granted
to men in this condition.

As another proof of the indulgence of the Church with respect to slaves,
may be cited the 10th canon of the Council of Celchite, in England, held in
816, the result of which must have been to enfranchise, in a few years, all the
English slaves of the Churches existing in the countries where the Council was
observed. Indeed, this canon ordained that, at the death of a Bishop, all his
English slaves should be set at liberty ; it added, that each of the other Bishops
and Abbots might enfranchise three slaves on the occasion, by giving each of
them three sous. Such regulations smoothed the way more and more, and pre
pared circumstances and men's minds, so that, some time later, was witnessed
that noble scene, where, at the Council of Armagh, in 1172, liberty was given
to all the English who were slaves in Ireland.

The advantageous conditions enjoyed by the slaves of the Church were so
much the more valuable, because a regulation newly introduced prevented their
losing them. If they could have passed into the hands of other masters, in this
case they would have lost the benefits which they derived from living under the
rule of so kind a mistress. But happily, it was forbidden to exchange them for
others ; and if they left the power of the Church, it was for freedom. We have
a positive proof of this regulation in the decretals of Gregory IX. (1. 3, t. 19,
chaps. 3 and 4). It should be observed that in this document the slaves of the
Church are regarded as consecrated to God ; thereon is founded the regulation
which prevents their passing into other hands and leaving the Church, except as
freemen. We also see there that the faithful, for the good of their souls, had
the custom of offering their slaves to God and the Saints. By placing them
thus in the power of the Church, they put them out of common dealing and
prevented their again falling into profane servitude. It is useless to enlarge on
the salutary effect which must have been produced by these ideas and manners,
in which we see religion so intimately allied with the cause of humanity; it is
enough to observe, that the spirit /)f that age was highly religious, and that
which was attached to the cause of religion was sure to ride in safety.

Religious ideas, by constantly developing their strength and directing their
action to all branches, were intended in a special manner to relieve men by all
possible means from the yoke of slavery. On this subject we may be allowed
to remark a canonical regulation of the time of Gregory the Great. In a Coun
cil at Rome, held in 595, and presided over by that Pope, a new means of
escaping from their degraded state was offered to slaves, by deciding that liberty
should be given to all those who desired to embrace the monastic life. The
words of the holy Pope are worthy of attention ; they show the ascendency of
religious motives, and how much these motives preponderated over considera
tions and interests of a worldly nature. This important document is found
in the letters of St. Gregory; it may be read in the notes at the end of the
volume.

To imagine that such regulations would remain barren, is to mistake the spirit
of those times : on the contrary, they produced the most important effects. We
may form an idea of them by reading in the decree of Gratian (Distin. 54, c. 12),
that they led to scandal ; slaves fled from the houses of their masters and took

K

110 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

refuge in monasteries, under pretext of religion 1 .was necessary to check this
abuse, against which complaints arose on all sides. Without waiting to consi
der what these abuses themselves indicate, is it difficult to imagine that these
regulations of the Church must have had valuable results ? They not only
gained liberty for a great many slaves, but also raised them very much in the
eyes of the world, for they placed them in a state which every day gained im
portance and acquired an immense prestige and a powerful influence, ^e may
form an idea of the profound change which took place every day in the organi
zation of society, thanks to these various means, by fixing our attention for a
moment on what resulted with respect to the ordination of slaves. The disci
pline of the Church on this point was in accordance with her doctrines. The
slave was a man like other men, and he could be ordained as well as the greatest
noble. Yet while he was subject to the power of his master, he was devoid of
the independence necessary for the dignity of the sacred ministry ; therefore it
was required that he should not be ordained until he had been previously set at
liberty. Nothing could be more just, reasonable, and prudent, than the limit
thus placed on a discipline otherwise so noble and generous — a discipline which
was in itself an eloquent protest in favor of the dignity of man. The Church
solemnly declared that the misfortune of being a slave did not reduce him below
the level of other men, for she did not think it unworthy of her to choose her
ministers from among those who had been in servitude. By placing in so ho
norable a sphere those who had been slaves, she labored with lofty generosity
to disperse the prejudices which existed against those who were placed in that
unhappy condition, and created strong and effective ties between them and the
most venerated class of freemen. The abuse which then crept in of conferring
orders on slaves, without the consent of their masters, is above all worthy of our
attention ; an abuse, it is true, altogether contrary to the sacred canons, and
which was checked by the Church with praiseworthy zeal, but which is not the
less useful in enabling the observer duly to appreciate the profound effect of
religious ideas and institutions. Without attempting in any way to excuse what
was blamable therein, we may very well make use of the abuse itself, by con
sidering that it frequently happens that abuses are only exaggerations of a good
principle. Religious ideas accord but ill with slavery, although supported by
laws ; thence the incessant struggle, repeated under different aspects, but always
directed towards the same end, viz. universal emancipation. It appears to us
that we may now the more confidently avail ourselves of this kind of argument,
as we have seen the most dreadful attempts at revolution treated with indu
gence, on account of the principles with which the revolutionists were imbued
and the objects which they had in view /objects which, as every one knows,
were nothing less than an entire change in the organization of society. The
abuse to which we have alluded, is attested by the curious documents which are
found collected in the decree of Gratian (Dist. 54, c. 9, 10, 11, 12). When we
examine these documents with attention, we find, 1st, that the number of slaves
thus freed was very considerable, since the complaints on this subject were
almost universal : 2d, that the Bishops were generally in favor of the slaves ;
that they carried their protection very far; that they labored in all ways to
realize these doctrines of equality ; indeed, it is affirmed in these documents
that there was hardly a Bishop who could not be charged with this reprehensi
ble compliance : 3d, that slaves were aware of this spirit of protection, and were
eager to throw off their chains and cast themselves into the arms of the Church :
4th, that this combination of circumstances must have produced in men's minds
a movement very favorable to liberty; and that this affectionate communication
established between slaves and the Church, then so powerful and influential-
must soon have weakened slavery, and rapidly have promoted the advance of
nations towards that liberty which completely triumphed a few centuries later

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. Ill

Tlie Chur:h of Spain, whose civilizing influence has received so many euiogiumi
from men certainly but little attached to Catholicity, equally displays her lofty
views and consummate prudence on this point. Charitable zeal in favor of
slaves was so ardent, the tendency to raise them to the sacred ministry so de
cided, that it was necessary to allow free scope to this generous impulse, while
reconciling it as much as possible with the sacredness of the ministry. Such
was the two-fold object of the discipline introduced into Spain, by virtue of
which it was allowed to confer sacred orders on the slaves of the Church, OE
their being previously enfranchised. This is ordered by the 74th canon of the
fourth Council of Toledo, held in 633; it is also inferred from the llth canon
of the ninth Council of Toledo, which ordains that Bishops shall not introduce
the slaves of the Church among the clergy without having previously given
them their liberty.

It is remarkable that this regulation was extended by the 18th canon of the
Council of Merida, in 666, which gives to parish-priests the right of selecting
clerks among the slaves of their own church, with the obligation of maintain
ing them according to their means. This wise discipline prevented, without any
injustice, all the difficulties that might have ensued from the ordination of
slaves; while it was a very mild way of effecting the most beneficent results,
since in conferring orders on the slaves of the Church, it was easy to choose
from among them such as were most deserving by their intellectual and moral
qualifications. At the same time, it was affording the Church a most favorable
and honorable mode of liberating her slaves, by enrolling them among her mi
nisters. Finally, the Church by her generous conduct towards slaves, gave a
salutary example to the laity. We have seen that she allowed the parochial
clergy, as well as the bishops, the privilege of setting them free ; and this must
have rendered it less painful for laymen to emancipate their slaves, when cir«
cumstances seemed to call the latter to the sacred ministry.

CHAPTER XIX.

DOCTRINES OP S. AUGUSTINE AND S. THOMAS AQUINAS ON THE SUBJECT OP
SLAVERY. — RESUME OP THE SUBJECT.

THUS did the Church, by a variety of means, break the chains of slavery,
without ever exceeding the limits marked out by justice and prudence : thus
did she banish from among Christians that degrading condition, so contrary to
their exalted ideas on the dignity of man, and their generous feelings of frater
nity and love. Wherever Christianity shall be introduced, chains of iron shall
be turned into gentle ties, and humiliated men shall raise their ennobled heads.
With what pleasure do we read the remarks of one of the greatest men of
Christianity, S. Augustine, on this point (De Civil. Dei, 1. xix. c. 14, 15, 16).
He establishes in a few words the obligation incumbent upon all who rule —
fathers, husbands, and masters — to watch over the good of those who are under
them : he lays down the advantage of those who obey, as one of the founda
tions for obedience ; he says that the just do not rule from ambition or pride,
but from duty and the desire of doing good to their subjects : " Neque enim
dominandi cupiditate imperant, sed officio consulendi, nee principandi superbia,
sed providendi misericordia ;" and by these noble maxims he proscribes all
opinions which tend to tyranny, or found obedience on any degrading notions j
but on a sudden, as if this great mind apprehended some reply in violation of
human dignity, he grows warm, he boldly faces the question ; he rises to fail

112 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

full height, and, giving free scope to the noble thoughts that ferment in hii"
mind, he invokes the idea of nature and the will of God in favor of the dignity
of man thus menaced. He says: "Thus wills the order of nature; thus has
man been created by God. He has given him to rule over the fishes of the sea,
the birds of the air, and the reptiles that crawl on the face of the earth. Ht
has ordained that reasoning creatures, made according to His own image, sTiatl
rule only over creatures devoid of reason. He has not established the dominion
of man over man, but that of man over the brute." This passage of S. Augus
tine is one of those bold features which shine forth in writers of genius, when
grieved by the sight of a painful object, they allow their generous ideas and
feelings to have free scope, and cease to restrain their daring energies. Struck
by the force of the expression, the reader, in suspense and breathless, hastens
to read the succeeding lines ; he fears that the author may be mistaken, seduced
by the nobleness of his heart, and carried away by the force of his genius.
But, with inexpressible pleasure, he finds that the writer has in no degree de
parted from the path of true doctrine, when, like a brave champion, he has
lescended into the arena to defend the cause of justice and humanity. Thus
does S. Augustine now appear to us: the sight of so many unfortunate beings
groaning in slavery, victims of the violence and caprice of their masters,
afflicted his generous mind. By the light of reason and the doctrines of Chris
tianity, he saw no reason why so considerable a portion of the human race
should be condemned to live in such debasement ; wherefore, when proclaiming
the doctrines of submission and obedience, he labors to discover the cause of
such ignominy; and not being able to find it in the nature of man, he seeks for
it in sin, in malediction. "The primitive just men," says he, "were rather
established as pastors over their flocks, than as kings over other men ; whereby
God gives us to understand what was called for by the order of creation, and
what was required by the punishment of sin ; for the condition of slavery has,
with reason, been imposed on the sinner. Thus we do not find the word slave
in the Scriptures before the day when the just man, Noah, gave it as a punish
ment to his guilty son ; whence it follows that this word came from sin, and not
from nature/' This manner of considering slavery as the offspring of sin, as
the fruit of the Divine malediction, was of the highest importance. By pro
tecting the dignity of human nature, that doctrine completely destroyed all the
prejudices of natural superiority which the pride of free men could entertain.
Thereby also, slavery was deprived of all its supposed value as a political prin
ciple or means of government : it could only be regarded as one of the num.
berless scourges inflicted on the human race by the anger of the Most High.
Henceforth slaves had a motive for resignation, while the absolute power of
masters was checked, and the compassion of all free men was powerfully excited.
All were born in ein, all might have been in a state of slavery. To make a
boast of liberty would have been like the conduct of a man who, during an epi
demic, should boast of having preserved his health, and imagine that on that
account he had a right to insult the unhappy sick. In a word, the state of sla
very was a scourge, nothing more ; like pestilence, war, famine, or any thing
else of the kind. The duty of all men was to labor to remedy and abolish it.
Such doctrines did not remain sterile. Proclaimed in the face of day, they were
heard in all parts of the Catholic world ; and not only were they put in prac
tice, as we have seen by numberless examples, but they were carefully preserved
as a precious theory, throughout the confusion of the times. After the lapse
of eight centuries, we see them repeated by one of the brightest lights of the
Catholic Church, S. Thomas Aquinas (I. p. q. xcvi. art. 4). That great man
does not see in slavery either difference of race or imaginary inferiority or means
of government ; he only considers it as a scourge inflicted on humanity uy the
<jins of the first man.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WI'l H CATHOLICITY 113

Such is the repugnance with which Christians have looked upon slaver} : we
see from this, how false is the assertion of M. Guizot : " It does not seem that
Christian society was surprised or much offended by it." It is true there was
not that blind disturbance and irritation which, despising all barriers and pay
ing no attention to the rules of justice or the counsels of prudence, ran with
foolish haste to efface the mark of degradation and ignominy. But if that dis
turbance and irritation are meant which are caused by the sight of oppression
and outrages committed against man, sentiments which can well accord with
longanimity and holy resignation, and which, without checking for a moment
the action of charitable zeal, nevertheless avoid precipitating events, preferring
mature arrangement in order to secure a complete result ; how can this pertur
bation of mind and holy indignation be better proved to have existed in the
bosom of the Church than by the facts and doctrines which we have just quoted ?
What more eloquent protest against the continuance of slavery can you have
than the doctrine of these two illustrious doctors ? They declare it, as we have
just seen, to be the fruit of malediction, the chastisement of the prevarication
of the human race ; and they only acknowledge its existence by considering it
as one of the great scourges that afflict humanity.

I have explained, with sufficient evidence, the profound reasons which in
duced the Church to recommend obedience to slaves, and she cannot be re
preached on that account with forgetting the rights of humanity. We must
not suppose on that account that Christian society was wanting in the boldnesa
necessary for telling the whole truth ; but it told only the pure and wholesome
truth. What took place with respect to the marriages of slaves is a proof of
what I advance. We know that their union was not regarded as a real mar
riage, and that even that union, such as it was, could not be contracted without
the consent of their masters, under pain of being considered as void. Here
was a flagrant violation of reason and justice. What did the Church do? She
directly reprobated so gross a violation of the rights of nature. Let us hear
what Pope Adrian I. said on this subject: " According to the words of the
Apostles, as in Jesus Christ we ought not to deprive either slaves or freemen of
the sacraments of the Church, so it is not allowed in any way to prevent the
marriage of slaves ; and if their marriages have been contracted in spite of the
opposition and repugnance of their masters, nevertheless they ought not to be
dissolved in any way." (De. Conju. Serv., lib. iv. torn. 9, c. 1.) And let it not
be supposed that this regulation, which secured the liberty of slaves on one of
the most important points, was restricted to particular circumstances ; no, it
was something more ; it was a proclamation of their freedom in this matter.
The Church was unwilling to allow that man, reduced to the level of the brute,
should be forced to obey the caprice or the interest of another, without regard
to the feelings of his heart. St. Thomas was of the same opinion, for he openly
maintains that, with respect to the contracting of marriage, slaves are not obliged
to obey their masters (2*. 2, q. 104, art. 5).

In the hasty sketch which I have given, I believe that I have kept the pro
mise which I made at the beginning, not to advance any proposition without
supporting it by undeniable documents, and not to allow myself to be misled
by enthusiasm in favor of Catholicity, so as to concede to it that to which it ie
not entitled. By passing, rapidly it is true, the course of ages, we have shown,
by convincing proofs, which have been furnished by times and places the most
various, that it was Catholicity that abolished slavery, in spite of ideas, manners,
interests, and laws, which opposed obstacles apparently invincible ; and that it
has done so without injustice, without violence, without revolutions, — with the
most exquisite prudence and the most admirable moderation. Wre have seen
the Catholic Church make so extensive, so varied, and so efficacious an attack on
slavery, that that odious chain was broken without a single violent stroke.

114 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Exposed to the action of the most powerful agents, it gradually relaxed and
fell to pieces. Her proceedings may be thus recapitulated : —

First, she loudly teaches the truth concerning the dignity of man ; she defines
the obligations of masters and slaves; she declares them equal before God, and
thus completely destroys the degrading theories which stain the writings even
of the greatest philosophers of antiquity. She then comes to the application
of her doctrines : she labors to improve the treatment of slaves ; she struggles
against the atrocious right of life and death ; she opens her temples to- them as
asylums, and when they depart thence, prevents their being ill-treated ; she
labors to substitute public tribunals for private vengeance. At the same time
that the Church guarantees the liberty of the enfranchised, by connecting .t
with religious motives, she defends that of those born free; she labors to close
the sources of slavery, by displaying the most active zeal for the redemption of
captives, by opposing the avarice of the Jews, by procuring for men who were
sold, easy means of recovering their liberty. The Church gives an example of
mildness and disinterestedness ; she facilitates emancipation, by admitting slaves
into monasteries and the ecclesiastical state ; she facilitates it by all the other
means that charity suggests ; and thus it is that, in spite of the deep roots of
slavery in ancient society — in spite of the perturbation caused by the irruptions
of the barbarians — in spite of so many wars and calamities of every kind, which
in great measure paralyzed the effect of all regulating and beneficent action —
yet we see slavery, that dishonor and leprosy of ancient civilization, rapidly di
minish among Christians, until it finally disappears. Surely in all this we do
not discover a plan conceived and concerted by men. But we do observe there
in, in the absence of that plan, such unity of tendencies, such a perfect identity
of views, and such similarity in the means, that we have the clearest demon
stration of the civilizing and liberating spirit contained in Catholicity. Accurate
observers will no doubt be gratified in beholding, in the picture which I have
just exhibited, the admirable concord with which the period of the empire, that
of the irruption of the barbarians, and that of feudality, all tended towards the
same end. They will not regret the poor regularity which distinguishes the
exclusive work of man ; they will love, I repeat it, to collect all the facts scat
tered in the seeming disorder, from the forests of Germany to the fields of
Boeotia — from the banks of the Thames to those of the Tiber. I have not in
vented these facts ; I have pointed out the periods, and cited the Councils. The
reader will find, at the end of the volume, in the original and in full, the texts
of which I have just given an abstract — a r6sum6 : thus he may fully convince
himself that I have not deceived him. If such had been my intention, surely
I should have avoided descending to the level ground of facts ; I should have
preferred the vague regions of theory; T should have called to my aid high
sounding and seductive language, and all the means the most likely to enchant
the imagination and excite the feelings; in fine, I should have placed myself in
one of those positions where a writer can suppose at his pleasure things which
have never existed, and made the best use of the resources of imagination and
invention. The task which I have undertaken is rather more difficult, perhaps
less brilliant, but certainly more useful.

We may now inquire of M. Guizot what were the other causes, the other idea*,
the other principles ofciviKzatifm, the great development of which, to avail myself
of his words, was necessary " to abolish this evil of evils, this iniquity of ini-
quitiei '; Ought he not to explain, or at least point out, these causes, ideas,
and principles of civilization, which, according to him, assisted the Church in
the abolition of slavery, in order to save the reader the trouble of seeking or
divining them ? If they did not arise in the bosom of the Church, where did
they arise ? "Were they found in the ruins of ancient civilization ? But could
those remains of a scattered and almost annihilated civilization effect what thai

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 115

game civilization, in all its vigor, power, and splendor, never did or thought of
doing? — Were they in the individual independence of the barbarians f But
that individuality, the inseparable companion of violence, must consequently
have been the source of oppression and slavery. Were they found in the mili
tary patronage introduced, according to M. Guizot, by the barbarians themselves;
patronage which laid the foundation of that aristocratical organization which
was converted at a later period into feudality ? But what could this patronage
—an institution likely, on the contrary, to perpetuate slavery among the indi
gent in conquered countries, and to extend it to a considerable portion of the
conquerors themselves — what could this patronage do for the abolition of sla
very? Where, then, is the idea, the custom, the institution, which, born out
of Christianity, contributed to the abolition of slavery? Let any one point out
to us the epoch of its formation, the time of its development ; let him show us
that it had not its origin in Christianity, and we will then confess that the latter
cannot exclusively lay claim to the glorious title of having abolished that de
graded condition ; and he may be sure that this shall not prevent our exalting
that idea, custom, or institution which took part in the great and noble enter
prise of liberating the human race.

We may be allowed, in conclusion, to inquire of the Protestant churches, of
those ungrateful daughters who, after having quitted the bosom of their mother,
attempt to calumniate and dishonor her, where were you when the Catholic
Church accomplished in Europe the immense work of the abolition of slavery ?
and how can you venture to reproach her with sympathizing with servitude, de
grading man, and usurping his rights ? Can you, then, present any such claim
entitling you to the gratitude of the human race ? What part can you claim
in that great work which prepared the way for the development and grandeur
of European civilization ? Catholicity alone, without your concurrence, com
pleted the work ; and she alone would have conducted Europe to its lofty
destinies, if you had not come to interrupt the majestic march of its mighty
nations, by urging them into a path bordered by precipices, — a path the end
of which is concealed by darkness which the eye of God alone can pierce. (15)

CHAPTER XX.

CONTRAST BETWEEN TWO ORDERS OF CIVILIZATION.

WE have seen that European civilization owes to the Catholic Church its
finest ornament, its most valuable victory in the cause of humanity, the aboli
tion of slavery. It was the Church that, by her doctrines, as beneficent as ele
vated, by a system as efficacious as prudent, by her unbounded generosity, her
indefatigable zeal, her invincible firmness, abolished slavery in Europe ; that is
to say, she took the first step towards the regeneration of humanity, and laid
the first stone for the wide and deep foundation- of European civilization ; we
mean the emancipation of slaves, the abolition for ever of so degrading a state,
— universal liberty. It was impossible to create and organize a civilization full
of grandeur and dignity, without raising man from his state of abjection, and
placing him above the level of animals. Whenever we see him cr niching at
another's feet, awaiting with anxiety the orders of his master or trembling at
the lash ; whenever he is sold like a beast, or a price is set upon his powers a'nd
his life, civilization will never have its proper development, it will always be
weak, sickly, and broken ; for thus humanity bears a mark of ignominy on it*
forehead.

After having shown that it was Catholicity that removed that obstacle to i
social progress, by, as it were, cleansing Europe of the disgusting leprosy wi

all
with

116 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

which it was infected from head to foot, let us examine what it has dene toward,
creating and erecting the magnificent edifice of European civilization. If we
seriously reflect on the vitality and fruitfulness of this civilization, we shall find
therein new and powerful claims on the part of the Catholic Church to the
gratitude of nations. In the first place, it is proper to glance at the vast and
interesting picture which European civilization presents to us, and to sum up in a
few words its principal perfections ; thereby we shall be enabled the more easily
to account to ourselves for the admiration and enthusiasm with which it
inspires us.

The individual animated by a lively sense of his own dignity, abounding in
activity, perseverance, energy, and the simultaneous development of all hia
faculties ; woman elevated to the rank of the consort of man, and, as it were,
recompensed for the duty of obedience by the respectful regards lavished upon
her j the gentleness and constancy of family ties, protected by the powerful
guarantees of good order and justice ; an admirable public conscience, rich in
maxims of sublime morality, in laws of justice and equity, in sentiments of
honor and dignity; a conscience which survives the shipwreck of private moral
ity, and does not allow unblushing corruption to reach the height which it did
in antiquity ; a general mildness of manners, which in war prevents great ex
cesses, and in peace renders life more tranquil and pleasing; a profound respect
for man, and all that belongs to him, which makes private acts of violence very
uncommon, and in all political constitutions serves as a salutary check on go
vernments; an ardent desire of perfection in all departments; an irresistible
tendency, sometimes ill-directed, but always active, to improve the condition of
the many ; a secret impulse to protect the weak, to succour the unfortunate — an
impulse which sometimes pursues its course with generous ardor, and which,
whenever it is unable to develop itself, remains in the heart of society, and pro
duces there the uneasiness and disquietude of remorse ; a cosmopolitan spirit
of universality, of propagandisin, an inexhaustible fund of resources to grow
young again without danger of perishing, and for self-preservation in the most
important junctures; a generous impatience, which longs to anticipate the
future, and produces an incessant movement and agitation, sometimes dangerous,
but which are generally the germs of great benefits, and the symptoms of a
strong principle of life ; such are the great characteristics which distinguish
European civilization ; such are the features which place it in a rank immensely
superior to that of all other civilizations, ancient and modern.

Head the history of antiquity ; extend your view over the whole world ;
wherever Christianity does not reign, and where the barbarous or savage life no
longer prevails, you will find a civilization which in nothing resembles our own,
and which cannot be compared with it for a moment. In some of these states
of civilization, you will perhaps find a certain degree of regularity and some
marks of power, for they have endured for centuries; but how have they en
dured ? Without movement, without progress ; they are devoid of life ; their
regularity and duration are those of a marble statue, which, motionless itself,
sees the waves of generations pass by. There have also been nations whose
civilization displayed motion and activity ; but what motion and what activity ?
Some, ruled by the mercantile spirit, never succeeded in establishing their
internal happiness on a firm basis; their only object was to invade new countries
which tempted their cupidity, to pour into their colonies their superabundant
population, and establish numerous factories in new lands : others, continually
contending and fighting for a few measures of political freedom, forgot their
social organization, took no care of their civil liberty, and acted in the nar
rowest circle of time and space ; they would not be even worthy of having their
names preserved for posterity, if the genius of the beautiful had not shone there
with incbscribable charm, and if the monuments of their knowledge, like a

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 117

mirror, had not preserved the bright rays of Eastern learning : others, great
and terrible, it is true, but troubled by intestine dissensions, bear inscribed upon
their front the formidable destiny of conquest ; this destiny they fulfilled bj
subjugating the world, and immediately their rapid and inevitable ruin ap
proached : others, in tine, excited by violent fanaticism, raged like the waves of
ocean in a storm ; they threw themselves upon other nations like a devastating
torrent, and threatened to involve Christian civilization itself in their deafening
aproar; but their efforts were vain ; their waves broke against insurmountable
carriers ; they repeated their attempts, but, always compelled to retire, they fell
back again, and spread themselves on the beach with a sullen roar : and now
look at the Eastern nations ; behold them like an impure pool, which the heat
of the sun is about to dry up ; see the sons and successors of Mahomet and
Omar on their knees at the feet of the European powers, begging a protection,
which policy sometimes affords them, but only with disdain. Such is the pic
ture presented to us by every civilization, ancient and modern, except that of
Europe, that is, the Christian. It alone at once embraces every thing great and
noble in the others ; it alone survives the most thorough revolutions ; it alone
extends itself to all races and climates, and accommodates itself to forms of
government the most various; it alone, in fine, unites itself with all kinds of
institutions, whenever, by circulating in them its fertile sap, it can produce its
sweet and salutary fruits for the good of humanity. And whence comes the
immense superiority of European civilization over all others ? How has it be
come so noble, so rich, so varied, so fruitful j with the stamp of dignity, of
nobility, and of loftiness; without castes, without slaves, without eunuchs, with
out any of those miseries which prey upon other ancient and modern nations ?
It often happens that we Europeans complain and lament more than the most
unfortunate portion of the human race ever did ; and we forget that we are the
privileged children of Providence, and that our evils, our share of the unavoid
able patrimony of humanity, are very slight, are nothing in comparison with
those which have been, and still are, suffered by other nations. Even the extent
of our good fortune itself renders us difficult to please, and exceedingly fasti
dious. We are like a man of high rank, accustomed to live respected and
esteemed in the midst of ease and pleasure, who is indignant at a slighting word,
is filled with disquietude and affliction at the most trifling contradiction, and
forgets the multitude of men who are plunged in misery, whose nakedness if*
covered with a few rags, and who meet with a thousand insults and refusals be
fore they can obtain a morsel of bread to satisfy the cravings of hunger.

The mind, when contemplating .European civilization, experiences so many
different impressions, is attracted by so many objects that at the same time
claim its attention and preference, that, charmed by the magnificent spectacle,
it is dazzled, and knows not where to commence the examination. The best
way in such a case is to simplify, to decompose the complex object, and reduce
it to its simplest elements. The individual, the, family, and society; these we
have thoroughly to, examine, and these ought to be the subjects of our inqui
ries. If we succeed in fully understanding these three elements, as they really
are in themselves, and apart from the slight variations which do not affect their
essence, European civilization, with all its riches and all its secrets, will be
presented to our view, like a fertile and beautiful landscape lit up by the morn
ing sun.

European civilization is in possession of the principal truths with respect to
the individual, to the family, and to society ; it is to this that it owes all that
it is and all that it has. Nowhere have the true nature, the true relations and
object of these three things been better understood than in Europe ; with respect
to them we have ideas, sentiments, and views which have been wanting in other
civilization*. Now, these ideas and feelings, strongly Tiarked on the face of

118 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

European nations, have inoculated their laws, manners, institutions, custHus,
and language ; they are inhaled with the air, for they have impregnated the
whole atmosphere with their vivifying aroma. To what is this owing? To the
fact, that P]urope, for many centuries, has had within its bosom a powerful prin
ciple which preserves, propagates, and fructifies the truth ; and it was especially
in those times of difficulty, when the disorganized society had to assume a new
form, that this regenerating principle had the greatest influence andvascendency.
Time has passed away, great changes have taken place, Catholicity has under
gone vast vicissitudes in its power and influence on society ; but civilization, its
work, was too strong to be easily destroyed ; the impulse which had been given
to Europe was too powerful and well secured to be easily diverted from its
course. Europe was like a young man gifted with a strong constitution, and
full of health and vigor; the excesses of labor or of dissipation reduce him
and make him grow pale ; but soon the hue of health returns to his counte
nance, and his limbs recover their suppleness and vigor.

CHAPTER XXL

OF THE INDIVIDUAL OF THE FEELING OF INDIVIDUAL INDEPENDENCE

ACCORDING TO M. GUIZOT.

THE individual is the first and simplest element of society. If the indivi
dual is not well constituted, if he is ill understood and ill appreciated, there
will always be an obstacle to the progress of real civilization. First of all, we
must observe, that we speak here only of the individual, of man as he is in
himself, apart from the numerous relations which surround him when we come
to consider him as a member of society. But let it not be imagined from this,
that I wish to consider him in a state of absolute isolation, to carry him to the
desert, to reduce him to the savage state, and analyze the individuality as it
appears to us in a few wandering hordes, a monstrous exception, which is only
the result of the degradation of our nature. Equally useless would it be to
revive the theory of Rousseau, that pure Utopianism which can only lead to
error and extravagance. We may separately examine the pieces of a machine,
for the better understanding of its particular construction ; but we must take
care not to forget the purpose for which they are intended, and not lose sight
of the whole, of which they form a part. Without that, the judgment w1
should form of them would certainly be erroneous. The most wonderful aod
sublime picture would be only a ridiculous monstrosity, if its groups and figure?
were considered in a state of isolation from its other parts ; in this way, the
prodigies of Michael Angelo and Raffael might be taken for the dreams of a
madman. Man is not alone in the world, nor is he born to live alone. Besides
what is he in himself, he is a part of the great scheme of the Universe. Be
sides the destiny which belongs to him in the vast plan of creation, he is raised,
by the bounty of his Maker, to another sphere, above all earthly thoughts.
Good philosophy requires that we should forget nothing of all this. It now
remains for us to consider the individual and individuality.

In considering man, we may abstract from his quality of citizen, — an abstrac
tion which, far from leading to any extravagant paradoxes, is likely to make MS
thoroughly understand a remarkable peculiarity of European civilization, one
of the distinctive characteristics, which will be alone sufficient to enable us to
avoid confounding it with others. All will readily understand that there is a
distinction to be made between the man and the Citizen, and that these two
aspects lead to very different considerations ; but i4 js more difficult to say ho^
Car the limits of this distinction should extend ; to what extent the feeling oi

I ROTES'' \NTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 119

independence should bo admitted ; what is the sphere which ought to be assigned
to puiely individual development; in fine, whatever is peculiar to our civiliza
tion on this point. We must justly estimate the difference which we find herein
between our state of society and that of others ; we must point out its source,
and its result ; we must carefully weigh its real influence on the advance of
civilization. This task is difficult; 1 repeat it, — for we have here various ques
tions, great and important, it is true, but delicate and profound, and very easily
mistaken, — it is not without much trouble that we can fix our eyes with cer
tainty on these vague, indeterminate, and floating objects, which are connected
together by no perceptible ties.

We here meet with the famous personal independence, which, according to
M. Guizot, was brought by the barbarians from the North, and played so im
portant a part, that Tve ought to look upon it as one of the chief and most pro
ductive principles of European civilization. This celebrated publicist, analyzing
the elements of this civilization, and pointing out the share which the Roman
empire and the Church had therein, in his opinion, finds a remarkable principle
of productiveness in the feeling of individuality, which the Germans brought
with them, and ino'-ulated into the manners of Europe. It will not be useless
to discuss the opinion of M. Guizot on this important and delicate matter. By
thus explaining ch^ state of the question, we shall remove the important errors
of some persona, errors produced by the authority of this writer, whose talent
and eloquence ha^ unfortunately given plausibility and semblance of truth to
what is in reality only a paradox. The first care we ought to take, in combat-
ing the opinions of this writer, is not to attribute to him what he has not really
said; besides, as the matter we are treating of is liable to many mistakes, we
shall do well to transcribe the words of M. Guizot at length. u What we require
to know," he says, " is the general condition of society among the barbarians.
Now it is very difficult, now-a-days, to give an account of it. We can under
stand, without too much trouble, the municipal system of Home, and the Chris
tian Church ; their influence has continued down to our times ; we find traces
of them in many institutions and existing facts. We have a thousand means
of recognising and explaining them. The manners, the social condition of tho
barbarians, have entirely perished ; we are compelled to divine them, by the
most ancient historical documents, or by an effort of imagination."

What has been preserved to us of the manners of the barbarians is, indeed,
little; this is an assertion which I will not deny. I will not dispute with M.
Guizot about the authority which ought to belong to facts which require to bo
filled up by an effort of the imagination, and which compel us to have recourse
to the dangerous expedient of divining. As for the rest, I am aware of the
nature of these questions ; and the reflections which I have just made, as well
as the terms which I have used, prove that I do not think it possible to proceed
with rule and compass in such an examination. Nevertheless, I have thought
it proper to warn the reader on this point, and combat the delusion into which
he might be led by a doctrine which, when fully examined, is, I repeat it, only
a brilliant paradox. " There is a feeling, a fact," continues M. Guizot, "which
it is above all necessary to understand well, in order to represent to ourselves
with truth what a barbarian was : this is, the pleasure of individual independ
ence — the pleasure of playing amid the chances of the world and of life, with
power and liberty; the joys of activity without labor; the taste for an adven
turous destinj full of surprises, vicissitudes, and perils. Such was the ruling
feeling of the barbarian state, the moral necessity which put these masses ot'
men in motion. To-day, in the regular society in which we live, it is difficult
tc represent to one's self this feeling, with all the influence which it exercised
over the barbarians of the fourth and fifth centuries. There is only one work,
in my opinion, in which this character of barbarism is described with all ite

120 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

forcef viz. The History of the Conquest of England by the JVbv-raans, of M
Thierry — the only book where the motives, the inclinations, the impulses which
actuate man in a social state bordering on barbarism, are felt and described with
a truth really Homeric. Nowhere do we see so clearly what a barbarian was,
and what was his life. We also find something of this, although in a very in
ferior degree, in my opinion, in a manner much less simple, much less true, in
the romances of Mr hooper on the American savages. There is in the life of
the savages of America, in the relations and feelings which exist in those forests,
something which reminds one, to a certain extent, of the manners of the ancient
Germans. No doubt these pictures are a little ideal, a little poetical ; the un
favorable side of barbarian life and manners is not displayed in all its crudity.
I do not speak merely of the evils which these manners produce in the indivi
dual social condition of the barbarian himself. In this passionate love of per
sonal independence, there was something more rude and coarse than one would
imagine from the work of M. Thierry; there was a degree of brutality, of indo
lence, of apathy, which is not always faithfully described in his pictures
Nevertheless, when one examines the thing to the bottom, in spite of brutality
coarseness, and this stupid egotism, the taste for individual independence is &
noble moral feeling, which draws its power from the moral nature of man : it is
the pleasure of feeling himself a man — the sentiment of personality, of spon
taneous action in his free development. Gentlemen, it was by the German
barbarians that this feeling was introduced into the civilization of Europe ; it
was unknown to the Roman world, unknown to the Christian Church, unknown
to almost all the ancient civilizations : — when you find liberty in the ancient
civilizations, it is political liberty, the liberty of the citizen. It is not with his
personal liberty that the man is prepossessed, but with his liberty as a citizen.
He belongs to an association — he is devoted to an association — he is ready tc
sacrifice himself for an association. It was the same with the Christian Church .
there prevailed a feeling of great attachment to the Christian corporation — of
devotion to its laws — a strong desire of extending its empire ; the religious feel
ing produced a reaction on the man himself — on his soul — an internal struggle
to subdue his own will, and make it submit to the demands of his faith. But
the feeling of personal independence, the taste for liberty showing itself at any
hazard, with hardly any other object than its own satisfaction — this feeling, I
repeat, was unknown to the Roman and Christian society. It was brought in
by the barbarians, and placed in the cradle of modern civilization. It has
played so great a part, it has produced such noble results, that it is impossible
not to bring it to light as one of the fundamental elements thereof." (Histoire.
Generale de la Civilisation en Europe, leg. on 2.) This feeling of personal inde
pendence, exclusively attributed to a nation — this vague, undefinable feeling —
a singular mixture of nobleness and brutality, of barbarism and civilization — is
in some degree poetical, and is very likely to seduce the fancy; but, unfortu
nately, there is in the contrast, intended to increase the effect of the picture,
something extraordinary, I will even say contradictory, which excites the suspi
cion of cool reason that there is some hidden error which compels it to be on its
guard. If it be true that this phenomenon ever existed, what was its origin ?
Will it be said that it was the result of climate ? But how can it be imagined
that the snows of the north protected what was not found in the ardent south ?
How comes it that the feeling of personal independence was wanting precisely
in those southern countries of Europe, where the feeling of political independ-.
ence was developed with so much force ? and would it not be a strange thing,
not to say an absurdity, if these different climates had divided these two kinds
of liberty between them, like an inheritance ? It will be said, perhaps, that
this feuling arose from the social state. But in that case, it cannot be made
the characteristic mark of one nation : it must be said, in general terms, that

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED \VITH CATHOLICITY. 121

the feeling belonged to all the nations who were in the same social condition a*
the Germans. Besides, even according to this hypothesis, how could that which
was peculiar to barbarism have been a germ, a fruitful principle of civilization?
This feeling, which must have been effaced by civilization, could not even pre
serve itself in the midst thereof, much less contribute to its development. If
its perpetuation in some form was absolutely necessary, why did not the same
thing take place in the bosom of other civilizations ? Surely the Germans were
not the only people who passed from barbarism to civilization. But I do not
pretend to say that the barbarians of the north did not present some remarkable
peculiarity in this point of view ; and I do not deny that we find in European
civilization a feeling of personality, if I may so speak, unknown to other civili
zations. But what I venture to affirm is, that it is little philosophical to have
recourse to mysteries and enigmas to explain the individuality of the Germans,
and that it is useless to seek in their barbarism the cause of the superiority
which European civilization possesses in this respect. To form a clear idea of
this question, which is as complicated as it is important, it is first of all neces
sary to specify, in the best way we can, the real nature of the barbarian indivi
duality. In a pamphlet which I published some time ago, called Observations
Sociales, Politiques, et Ecunomiques, sur les Biens du Cleryt, I have incidentally
touched upon this individuality, and attempted to give clear ideas on this point.
As I have not changed my opinion since that time, but, on the contrary, as it
has been confirmed, I will transcribe what I then said, as follows : "What was
this feeling ? Was it peculiar to those nations ? Was it the result of the influ
ence of climate, of a social position ? Was it perchance a feeling formed in all
places and at all times, but which is here modified by particular circumstances?
What was its force, its tendency ? How far was it just or unjust, noble or
degrading, profitable or injurious? What benefits did it confer on society;
what evils ? How were these evils combated, by whom, by what means, and
with what result ? These questions are numerous, but they are not so compli
cated as they appear at first sight ; when once the fundamental idea shall be
cleared up, the others will be understood without difficulty, and the theory.
when simplified, will immediately be confirmed and supported by history. There
is a strong, active, an indestructible feeling in the human heart which urges
men to self-preservation, to avoid evils, and to attain to their well-being and
happiness. Whether you call it self-love, instinct of preservation, desire of
happiness or of perfection, egotism, individuality, or whatever name you give
to it, this feeling exists ; we have it within us. We cannot doubt of its exist
ence ; it accompanies us at every step, in all our actions, from the time when
we first see the light till we descend into the tomb. This feeling, if you will
observe its origin, its nature, and its object, is nothing but a great law of all
beings applied to man ; a law which, being a guarantee for the preservation and
perfecting of individuals, admirably contributes to the harmony of the universe.
It is clear that such a feeling must naturally incline us to hate oppression, and
to suffer with impatience what tends to limit and fetter the use of our faculties.
The cause is easily found ; all this gives us uneasiness, to which our nature is
repugnant ; even the tenderest infant bears with impatience the tie that fastens
him in his cradle ; he is uneasy, he is disturbed, he cries.

" On the other hand, the individual, when he is not totally devoid of know
ledge of himself, when his intellectual faculties are at all developed, will feel
another sentiment arise in his mind which has nothing in common with the
instinct of self-preservation with which all beings are animated, a sentiment
tfhich belongo exclusively to intelligence ; I mean, the feeling of dignity, of
v<tlue of ourselves, of that fire which, enkindled iu our hearts in our earliest
is nourished, extended, and supported by the aliment afforded to it by
-. md acquires that immense power, that expansion which makes uu so rest

16 L

1*2? PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

less, active, and agitated during all periods of our life. The subjection of one
man to another wounds this feeling of dignity; for even supposing it to be
reconciled with all possible freedom and mildness, with the most perfect respect
for the person subjected, this subjection reveals a weakness or a necessity which
compels him in some degree to limit the free use of his faculties. Such is the
second origin of the feeling of personal independence. It follows from what I
have just said, that man always bears within himself a certain love of inde
pendence, that this feeling is necessarily common to all times and countries, for
we have found its roots in the two most natural feelings of man — viz. the desire
tif well-fieinc) and the consciousness of his own dignity. It is evident that these
feelings may be modified and varied indefinitely, on account of the infinity of
situations in which the individual may be placed, morally and physically. With
out leaving the sphere which is marked out for them by their very essence, these
feelings may vary as to strength or weakness on the most extensive scale; they
may be moral or immoral, just or unjust, noble or vile, advantageous or inju
rious. Consequently they may contribute to the individual the greatest variety
of inclinations, of habits, of manners; and thereby give very different features
to the physiognomy of nations, according to the particular and characteristic
manner in which they affect the individual. These notions being once cleared
up by a real knowledge of the constitution of the heart of man, we see how all
questions which relate to the feeling of individuality must be resolved; we also
see that it is useless to have recourse to mysterious language or poetical expla
nations, for in all this there is nothing that can be submitted to a rigorous
analysis. The ideas which man forms of his own well-being and dignity, the
means which he employs to promote the one and preserve the other, these are
what will settle the degrees of energy, will determine the nature and signalize
the tendency of all these feelings; that is to say, all will depend on the phy
sical and moral state of society and the individual. Now, supposing all other
circumstances to be equal, give a man true ideas of his own well-being and
dignity, such as reason and above*all the Christian religion teach, and you will
form a good citizen ; give false, exaggerated, absurd ideas, such as are enter
tained by perverted schools and promulgated by agitators at all times and in
all countries, and you spread the fruitful seeds of disturbance and disorder.

" In order to complete the clearing up of the important point which we have
undertaken to explain, we must apply this doctrine to the particular fact which
now occupies us. If we fix our attention on the nations who invaded and over
turned the Roman empire, confining ourselves to the facts which history has
preserved of them, to the conjectures which are authorized by the circumstances
in which they were placed, and to the general data which modern science has
been able to collect from the immediate observation of the different tribes
of America, we shall be able to form an idea of what was the state of society
and of the individual among the invading barbarians. In their native countries,
among their mountains, in their forests covered with frost and snow, they had
their family ties, their relationships, their religion, traditions, customs, manners,
attachment to their hereditary soil, their love of national independence, their
enthusiasm for the great deeds of their ancestors, and for the glory acquired in
battle ; in fine, their desire of perpetuating in their children a race strong,
valiant, and free; they had their distinctions of family, their division into
tribes, their priests, chiefs, and government. Without discussing the character
of their forms of government, and laying aside all that might be said of their
monarchy, their public assemblies, and other similar points, questions which are
foreign to our subject, and which besides are always in some degree hypothetical
and imaginary, I shall content myself with making a remark which none of my
readers will deny, viz. that among them the organization of society was such as
might hav- been expected from rude and superstitious ideas, gross habits, anc*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WFTT7 CATITCLTCTTY 1'2&

ferociVmp manners ; that is to say, that their social condition did not rise above
the level which had naturally been marked out for it by two imperious necessi
ties: first, that complete anarchy should not prevail in their forests ; and second,
that in war they should have some one to lead their confused hordes. Born in
rigorous climates, crowding on each other by their rapid increase, and on that
account obtaining with difficulty even the means of subsistence, these nations
saw before their eyes the abundance and the luxuries of ample and well-ealti-
vated regions; they were at the same time urged on by extreme want, and
strongly excited by the presence of plunder. There was nothing to oppose them
but the feeble legions of an effeminate and decaying civilization ; their own
bodies were strong, their minds full of courage and audacity; their numbers
augmented their boldness; they left their native soil without pain ; a spirit of
adventure and enterprise developed itself in their minds, and they threw them
selves on the Empire like a torrent which falls from the mountains, and inun
dates the neighboring plains. However imperfect was their social condition,
and however rude were its ties, it sufficed, nevertheless, in their native soil, and
amid their ancient manners ; if the barbarians had remained in their forests, it
may be said that that form of government, which answered its purpose in its
way, would have been perpetuated ; for it was born of necessity, it was adapte
to circumstances, it was rooted in their habits, sanctioned by time, and connected
with traditions and recollections of every kind. But these ties were too weak
to be transported without being broken. These forms of government were, a?
we have just seen, so suited to the state of barbarism, and consequently so circum
scribed and limited, that they could not be applied without difficulty to the new
situation in which these nations found themselves almost suddenly placed. Let
us imagine these savage children of the forest precipitated on the south ; their
fierce chiefs precede them, and they are followed by crowds of women and chil
dren ; they take with them their flocks and rude baggage ; they cut to pieces;
numerous legions on their way; they form intrenchments, cross ditches, scale
ramparts, ravage the country, destroy forests, burn populous cities, and take
with them immense numbers of slaves captured on the way. They overturn
every thing that opposes their fury, and drive before them multitudes who flee
to avoid fire and sword. In a short time see these same men, elated with victory,
enriched by immense booty, inured by so many battles, fires, sackings, and mas
sacres, transported, as if by enchantment, into a new climate, under another
sky, and swimming in abundance, in pleasure, in new enjoyments of every kind.
A confused mixture of idolatry and Christianity, of truth and falsehood, ia
become their religion ; their principal chiefs are dead in battle ; families are
confounded in disorder, races mixed, old manners and customs altered and lost.
These nations, in fine, are spread over immense countries, in the midst of other
nations, differing in language, ideas, manners, and usages ; imagine, if you can,
this disorder, this confusion, this chaos, and tell me whether the ties which
formed the society of these nations are not destroyed and broken into a thou
sand pieces, and whether you do not see barbarian and civilized society disappear
together, and all antiquity vanish without any thing new taking its place ? And
at this moment, fix your eyes upon the gloomy child of the North, when ho
feels all the ties that bound him to society suddenly loosened, when all the
chains that restrained his ferocity break ; when he finds hirnself alone, isolated,
in a position so new, so singular, so extraordinary, with an obscure recoil ectioL
of his late country and without affection for that which he has just occupied ;
without respect for law, fear of man, or attachment to custom. Do you not see
him, in his impetuous ferocity, indulge without limit his habits of vio^nce,
wandering, plunder, and massacre ? He confides in his strong arm and activity
of foot, and led by a heart full of fire and courage, by an imagination excited
by the view of s° many different countries and by the hazards of so mmy travels

t24 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

and combats, he rashly undertakes all enterprises, rejects all subjection, *hrow£
off all restraint, and delights in the dangers of fresh struggles and adventures.
Do you not find here the mysterious individuality, the feeling of personal inde
pendence, in all its philosophical reality and all the truth which is assigned to
it by history? This brutal individuality, this fierce feeling of independence,
which was not reconcileable with the well-being or with the true dignity of the
individual, contained a principle of eternal war and a continually wandering
mode of life, and must necessarily produce the degradation of man and the
complete dissolution of society. Far from containing the germ of civilization,
it was this that Wxis best adapted to reduce Europe to the savage state ; it stifled
society in its cradle; it destroyed every attempt made to reorganize it, and com
pleted the annihilation of all that remained of the ancient civilization."

The observations which have just been made may be more or less well founded,
more or less happy, but at least they do not present the inexplicable incon
sistency, not to say contradiction, of allying barbarism and brutality with civili
zation and refinement; they do not give the name of an eminent and fruitful
principle of European civilization to that which a little further on is pointed
out as one of the strongest obstacles to the progress of social organization. As
M. Guizot, on this last point, agrees with the opinion which I have just stated,
and shows the incoherence of his own doctrines, the reader will allow me to
quote his own words. " It is clear," he says, " that if men have no ideas
extending beyond their own existence, if their intellectual horizon is limited to
themselves, if they give themselves up to the caprices of their own passions and
wills, if they have not among them a certain number of common notions and
feelings, around which they rally; it is clear, I say, that no society can be pos
sible among them ; that such individual, when he enters into any association,
will be a principle of disturbance and dissolution. Whenever individuality
ulmost absolutely prevails, or man only considers himself, or his ideas do not
extend beyond himself, or he obeys only his own passions, society, T mean one
with any thing of extent or permanency, becomes almost impossible. Now
such was the moral condition of the conquerors of Europe at the period of which
we speak. I have pointed out, in the last lecture, that we owe the energetic
feeling of individual liberty and humanity to the Germans. Now, in a state
of extreme rudeness and ignorance, this feeling is egotism in all its brutality,
in all its unsociability. From the fifth to the eighth century, such was the case
among the Germans. They consulted only their own interests, their own pas
sions, their own wills ; how could this accord with the social state ? It wag
attempted to make them enter it ; they attempted it themselves ; they soon left
it from some sudden act, some sally of passion or misunderstanding. Every
moment we see society attempted to be formed ; every moment we see it broken
by the act of man, by the want of the moral conditions necessary for its sub.
sistence. Such, gentlemen, were the two prevailing causes of the state of bar
barism. As long as they lasted, barbarism continued." (Histoirf Gtnerale df
la Civilisation en Europe, logon 3.) *

With respect to his theory of individuality, M. Guizot has met with the com
mon fate of men of great talents. They are forcibly struck by a singular phe
nomenon, they conceive an ardent desire of finding its cause, and they fall into
frequent errors, led away by a secret tendency always to point out a new, unex
pected, astonishing origin. In his vast and penetrating view of European civi
lization, in his parallel between this and the most distinguished ones of antiquity,
he discovered a very remarkable difference between the individuals of the former
and of the latter. He saw in the man of modern Europe, something nobler,
more independent than in the Greek or Roman ; it was necessary to point out
the origin of this difference. Now this was not an easy task, considering the
peculiar situation in which the philosophical historian found himself. From

PROrESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 125

the first glance which he took at the elements of European civilization, the
Jhurch presented herself to him as one of the most powerful and the most influ
ential agents on the ^ganization of society; and he saw issue from her the
impulse which was most capable of leading the world to a great and happy
future. Pie had already expressly acknowledged this, and had paid homage to
the truth in magnificent language ; in order to explain this phenomenon, should
10 again have recourse to Christianity, to the Church ? This would have been
conceding to her the whole of the great work of civilization ; and M. Guizot
was desirous, at all hazards, of giving her coadjutors. Therefore, fixing his
eyes upon the barbarian hordes, he expects to discover in the swarthy brows,
the savage countenances, and the menacing looks of these children of the forest,
a type, somewhat rude but still very just, of the noble independence, the eleva
tion, and dignity which the European bears in his features.

After having explained the mysterious personality of the Germans, and
shown that, far from being an element of civilization, it was a source of disorder
and barbarism ; it is besides necessary to examine the difference which exists
between the civilization of Europe and other civilizations, with respect to the
feeling of dignity; it is necessary to determine with precision what modifica
tions have been undergone by a feeling, which, considered by itself, is, as we
have seen, common to all men. In the first place, there is no foundation foi
this assertion of M. Guizot, that the. feeling of personal independence, the task
for liberty, displaying itself at all hazards, with scarcely any other ob/ect than
its own satisfaction, was unknown to Roman society. It is clear that in such a
comparison, it is not meant to allude to th»e feeling of independence in the savage
state, in the state of barbarism ; for as well might it be said that civilized
nations could not have the distinctive character of barbarism. But laying asido
that circumstance of ferocity, we will say that the feeling was very active, not
only among the Romans, but also among the other most celebrated nations of
antiquity. " When you find in ancient civilization," says M. Guizot, " liberty,
it is political liberty, the liberty of the citizen. It is not with his personal
liberty that the man is prepossessed, it is with his liberty as a citizen j he be
longs to an association, he is devoted to an association, he is ready to sacrifice
himself for an association." I will not deny that this spirit of sacrifice for the
benefit of an association did exist among ancient nations ; I acknowledge also
that it was accompanied by remarkable peculiarities, which I intend to explain
further on ; yet it may be doubted whether the taste for liberty, with scarcely
ally other object than its own satisfaction, was not more active with ancient
nations than with us. Indeed, what was the object of the Phoenicians, the
Greeks of the Archipelago and of Asia Minor, the Carthaginians, when they
undertook those voyages which, for such remote times, were as bold and perilous
as those of our most intrepid sailors ? Was it, indeed, to sacrifice themselves
for an association that they sought new territories with so much ardour, in ordei
to amass there money, gold, and all kinds of articles of value ? Were they
not led by the desire of acquiring to gratify themselves ? Where, then, is the
association ? Where do you find it here ? Do you see any thing but the indi
vidual, with his passions and tastes, and his ardour in satisfying them ? And
the Greeks — those Greeks so enervated, so voluptuous, so spoiled by pleasures,
had they not the most lively feeling of personal independence, the most ardent
desire of living with perfect freedom, with no other object but to gratify them
selves ? Their poets singing of nectar and of love ; their free courtesans receiv
ing the homage of the most illustrious citizens, and making sages forget their
philosophical moderation and gravity ; and the people celebrating their festivals
amid the most fea-ful dissoluteness ; did they also only sacrifice on the altars
of association? Had they not the desire of gratitying themselves? With
fespect to the Romans, perhaps it would not be so easy to demonstrate 'his, i.'

L 2

126 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

we had to speak of what arc called the glorious times of the Republic ; but wa
have to deal with the Romans of the empire, with those who lived at the time
of the irruption of the barbarians ; with those Romans, greedy of pleasures, and
devoured by that thirst for excess of which history has preserved such shame-
ful pictures. Their superb palaces, their magnificent villas, their delicious
baths, their splendid festive halls, their tables loaded with riches, their effemi
nate dresses, their voluptuous dissipation ; da they not show us individuals
who, without thinking of the association to which they belonged, only thought
of gratifying their own passions and caprices ; lived in the greatest luxury,
with every delicacy and all imaginable splendour ; had no care but to enjoy
society, to lull themselves asleep in pleasure, to gratify all their passions, and
give way to a burning love of their own satisfactions and amusements ?

It is not easy, then, to imagine why M. Guizot exclusively attributes to the
barbarians the, pleasure, of feeling themselves men, the feeling of personality, of
human spontaneousness in its free t1e.ve1opm.ent. Can we believe that such sen
timents were unknown to the victors of Marathon and Platsea, to those nations
who have immortalized their names by so many monuments? When, in the
tine arts, in the sciences, in eloquence, in poetry, the noblest traits of genius
shone forth on all sides, had they not among them the pleasure of feeling them
selves men, the feeling and the power of the free development of all their
faculties ? and in a society where glory was so passionately loved, as we see it
was among the Romans, in a society which shows us men like Cicero and Virgil,
and which produced a Tacitus, who still, after nineteen centuries, makes every
generous heart thrill with emotion, icas there no pleasure infecting themselves
men, no pride in appreciating their own dignity? Was there no fed in <j of the
spontaneousness of man in his own free development ? How can we imagine
that the barbarians of the north surpassed the Greeks and Romans in this
respect ? Why, then, these paradoxes, this confusion of ideas ? Of what avail
are these brilliant expressions meaning nothing ? Of what use are these ob
servations, of a false delicacy, where the mind at first sight discovers vagueness
and inexactitude; and where it finds, after a complete examination, nothing
but incoherency and revery ?

CHAPTER XXII.

HOW THE INDIVIDUAL WAS ABSORBED BY ANCIENT SOCIETY.

If we profoundly study this question, without suffering ourselves to be led
into error and extravagance, by the desire of passing for deep observers ; if we
call to our aid a just and cool philosophy, supported by the facts of history, we
shall see that the principal difference between the ancient civilizations and our
own with respect to the individual is, that, in antiquity, man, considered as
man, icas not properly esteemed. Ancient nations did not want cither the feel
ing of personal independence, or the pleasure of feeling themselves men ; the
fault was not in the heart, but in the head. What they wanted was the com
prehension of the dignity of man ; the high idea which Christianity has given us
of ourselves, while, at the same time, with admirable wisdom, it has shown us
our infirmities. What ancient societies wanted, what all those, where Chris
tianity does not prevail, have wanted, and will continue to want, is the respect
and the consideration which surround every individual, every man, inasmuch as
he is a man. Among the Greeks the Greeks are every thing ; strangers, bar
barians, are nothing : in Rome, the title of Roman citizen makes the man ; he
who wants this is nothing. In Christian countries, the infant who is bor»
leformed, or deprived of some member, excites compassion, and becomes at

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 127

abject of the tenderest solicitude ; it is enough that he is man, and unfortunate,
Among the ancients, this human being was regarded as useless and contempt!
ble; in certain cities, as for example at Lacedaemon, it was forbidden to nourish
him. and, by command of the magistrates charged with the regulation of births,
horrible to relate ! he was thrown into a ditch. He was a human being ; but
what matter ? He was a human being who would be of no use ; and society,
without compassion, did not wish to undertake the charge of his support. If
you read Plato and Aristotle, you will see the horrible doctrine which they pro
fessed on the subject of abortion and infanticide ; you will see the means which
these philosophers imagined, in order to prevent the excess of population ; and
you will be sensible of the immense progress which society has made, under
the influence of Christianity, in all that relates to man. Are not the public
games, those horrible scenes where hundreds of men were slaughtered to amuse
an inhuman multitude, an eloquent testimony to the little value attached to
man, when he was sacrificed with so much barbarism for reasons so frivolous ?

The right of the strongest was exercised among the ancients in a horrible
manner; and this is one of the causes to which must be attributed the state
of annihilation, so to speak, in which we see the individual with respect to
society. Society was strong, the individual was weak; society absorbed the
individual, and arrogated to itself all imaginable rights over him ; and if ever
he made opposition to society, he was sure to be crushed by it with an iron
hand. When we read the explanation which M. G-uizot gives us of this pecu
liarity of ancient civilizations, we might suppose that there existed among them
a patriotism unknown to us ; a patriotism which, carried to exaggeration, and
stripped of the feeling of personal independence, produced a kind of annihila
tion of the individual in presence of society. If he had reflected deeply on
the matter, M. Gruizot would have seen that the difference is not in the feelings
of antiquity, but in the immense fundamental revolution which has taken place
in ideas ; hence he would easily have concluded, that the difference observed
In their feelings must have been owing to the differences in the ideas them
selves. Indeed, it is not strange that the individual, seeing the little esteem
in which he was held, and the unlimited power which society arrogated to itself
over his independence and his life, (for it went so for as to grind him to
powder, when he opposed it,) on his side formed an exaggerated idea of society
and the public authority, so as to annihilate himself in his own heart before
this fearful colossus. Far from considering himself as a member of an associa
tion the object of which was the safety and happiness of every individual, the
benefits of which required from him some sacrifices in return, he regarded him
self as a thing devoted to this association, and compelled, without hesitation,
to offer himself as a holocaust on its altars. Such is the condition of man ;
when a power acts upon him, for a long time, unlimitedly, his indignation is
excited against it, and he rejects it with violence; or else he humbles, he
debases, he annihilates himself before the strong influence which binds and
prostrates him. • Let us see if this be not the contrast which ancient societie?
Constantly afford us; the blindest submission and annihilation on the one hand>
and, on the other, the spirit of insubordination, of resistance, showing itself
in terrible explosions. It is thus, and thus only, that it is possible to under
stand how societies, whose normal condition was confusion and agitation, pre
sent us with such astonishing examples as Leonidas with his three hundred
Spartans perishing at Thermopylae, Saevola thrusting his hand into the fire,
Regulus returning to Carthage to suffe'- and die, and Marcus Curtius, all armed
leaping into the chasm which had opened in the midst of Rome. All these
phenomena, which at first sight appear inexplicable, are explained when w«.T
compare them with what has taken place in the revolutions of modern times
Terrible revolutions have thrown some nations into confusion ; the straggle o!

128 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

ideas and interests, inflaming their passions, has made them forget their tnu
uncial relations, during intervals of greater or less duration. What has hap
pened ? At the samo time that unlimited freedom was proclaimed, and the
rights of individuals were incessantly extolled, there arose in the midst of
society a cruel power, which, concentrating in its own hands all public author
ity, inflicted on them the severest blows. At such periods, when the formida
ble maxim of the ancients, the sal us populi, that pretext for so many frightful
attempts was in full force, there arose, on the other hand, that mad and ferocioua
patriotism which superficial men admire in the citizens of ancient republics.

Some writers have lavished eulogiums on the ancients, and, above all, on the
Romans. It seemed as if, to gratify their ardent wishes, modern civilization
must be moulded according to the ancient. They made absurd attempts; they
attacked the existing social system with unexampled violence ; they labored
to destroy, or at least to stifle, Christian ideas concerning the individual and
society, and they sought their inspiration from the shades of the ancient Ro
mans. It is remarkable that, during the short time that the attempt lasted,
there were seen, as in ancient Rome, admirable traits of strength, of valor,
of patriotism, in fearful contrast with cruelties and crimes without example.
In the midst of a great and generous nation there appeared again, to affright
the human race, the bloody spectres of Marius and Sylla ; so true it is that
man is everywhere the same, and that the same order of ideas in the end pro
duces the same order of events. Let the Christian ideas disappear, let olc
ones regain their force, and you will see that the modern world will resembl
the ancient one. Happily for humanity, this is impossible. All the attempts
hitherto made to produce such a result have been necessarily of short continu
ance, and such will be the case in future. But the bloody page which these
criminal attempts have left in history offers an abundant subject for reflection
to the philosopher who desires to become thoroughly acquainted with the inti
mate and delicate relations between ideas and facts. There he will see fully
exhibited the vast scheme of social organization, and he will be able to appre
ciate at its just value the beneficial or injurious influence of the various reli
gious and the different' philosophical systems.

The periods of revolutions, that is to say, those stormy times when govern
ments are swallowed up one after another like edifices built upon a volcanic
soil, have all this distinctive character, the tyranny of the interests of public
authority over private interests. Never is this power feebler, or less lasting; bul
never is it more violent, more mad. Every thing is sacrificed to its safety 01
its vengeance ; the shade of its enemies pursues it and makes it continually
tremble ; its own conscience torments it and leaves it no repose ; the weakness
of its organization, its instable position, warn it at every step of its approach
ing fall, and in its impotent despair it makes the convulsive efforts of one dying
in agony. What, then, in its eyes are the lives of citizens, if they excite the
slightest, the most remote suspicion ? If the blood of thousands of victims could
procure for it a moment of security, and add a few days to its existence, " Perish
my enemies," it says; " this is required for the safety of the state, that is, foi
mine !" Why this frenzy, this cruelty ? It is because the ancient govern
ment, having been overturned by force, and the new having been enthroned
in the same way, the idea of right has disappeared from the sphere of power.
Legitimacy does not protect it, even its novelty betrays its little value ; every
thing forebodes its short existence. Stripped of the reason and justice which
it is obliged to invoke in its own support, it seeks for both in the very necessity
of power, a social necessity, which is always visible, and it proclaims that the
nafety of the people is the supreme care. Then the property and lives of indi
viduals are nothing; they are annihilated in the presence of the bloody spectre
which arises in the midst of society; armed with force, and surrounded by

PR01JSTANTISM JMPARKD WITH CATHOLICITY. 1^9

guards and scaffolds, it says, ' am the public power; to me is confided the
safety of the people ; it is I wk.-j watch over the interests of society."

Now, do you know what is the result of this absolute want of respect for the
individual, of this complete annihilation of man in presence of the alarming power
which claims to represent society ? It is that the feeling of association reap-
pears in different directions; i;o longer a feeling directed by reason, foresight, and
beneficence, but a blind, instinctive feeling, which urges man not to remain alone,
without defence, in the midst, of a society which is converted into a field of bat
tle and a vast conspiracy; n> n then unite either to sustain power, when, influ
enced by the whirlwind of revolution, they are identified with it, and regard it
as their only rampart, or to verturn it, if, some motive having urged them into
the opposite ranks, they s»-" their most terrible enemy in the existing power
and a sword continually su* Bended over their heads. These men belong to an
association, are devoted tr *n association, are ready to sacrifice themselves for
it, for they cannot live a...,ne; they know, they comprehend, at least instinct
ively, that the individual is nothing; for as the restraints that maintain social
order have been broken, the individual no longer has a tranquil sphere where
he can live in peace and independence, confident that a power founded on legi
timacy and guided by reason and justice watches over the preservation of public
order and the respect due to individual rights. Then timid men are alarmed
and Humbled, and begin to represent that first scene of servitude where the
oppressed is seen to kiss the hand of the oppressor, and the victim to reverence
the executioner. Daring men resist and contend, or rather, conspiring in the dark,
they prepare terrible explosions. No one then belongs to himself; the indivi
dual is absorbed on all sides, either by the force which oppresses or by that
which conspires. The tutelary divinity of individuals is justice; when justice
vanishes, they are no more than imperceptible grains of dust carried away by
the wind, or drops of water in the stormy waves of ocean. Imagine to your
self societies where this passing frenzy does not prevail, it is true, but which are
yet devoid of true ideas on the rights and duties of individuals, and of those
of public authority ; societies where there are some wandering, uncertain,
obscure, imperfect notions thereon, stifled by a thousand prejudices and errors;
societies under which, nevertheless, public authority is organized under one
form or another, and has become consolidated, thanks to the force of habit, and
the absence of all other government better calculated to satisfy urgent necessi
ties ; you will then have an idea of the ancient societies, we should rather say,
societies without Christianity, and you will understand the annihilation of the
individual before the force of public power, either under an Asiatic despotism
or the turbulent democracy of the ancient republics. And what you will then
see will be precisely what you have observed in modern societies at times of
^volution, only with this difference, that in these the evil is transitory and
noiby, like the ravages of the tempest, while among the ancients it was the nor-
•nal state, like the vitiated atmosphere which injures and corrupts all that
breathe it.

Let us examine the cause of these two opposite phenomena, the lofty patriot
ism of the Greeks and Romans, and the state of prostration and political degra
dation in which other nations lay, and in which those still lie who are not under
the influence of Christianity; what is the cause of this individual abnegation
which is found at the bottom of two feelings so contrary ? and why do we not
find among any of those nations that individual development which is observed
in Europe, and which with us is connected with a reasonable patriotism, from
which the feeling of a legitimate personal independence is not excluded ? It
is because in antiquity man did not know himself, or what he was; it is
because his true relations with society were viewed through a thousand preju
dices and errors, and consequently were very ill understood. This will show

130 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

that admiration for the patriotism, disinterestedness, and heroic self-denial of
the ancients has been sometimes carried too far, and that these qualities, fai
from revealing in the men of antiquity a greater perfection of the individual, a
superior elevation of mind to that of the men of modern times, rather indicate
ideas less elevated and feelings less independent than our own. Perhaps some
blind admirers of the. ancients will be astonished at these assertions. ^Let them
consider the women of India throwing themselves on the funeral-pile after the
death of their husbands, and slaves putting themselves to death because they
could not survive their masters, and they will see that personal self-denial is
not an infallible sign of elevation of mind. Sometimes man does not under
stand his own dignity; he considers himself devoted to another being, absorbed
by him, and then he regards his own existence only as a secondary thing, which
has no object but to minister to the existence of another. We do not wish to
underrate the merit which rightly belongs to the ancients ; we do not wish to
lower their heroism, as far as it is just and laudable, any more than we wish to
attribute to the moderns an egotistical individuality ^ which prevents their sacri
ficing themselves for their country : our only object is to assign to every thing
its place, by dissipating prejudices which are excusable up to a certain point,
but do lamentable mischief by falsifying the principal features of ancient and
modern history.

This annihilation of the individual among the ancients arose also from the
weakness and imperfection of his moral development, and from his want of a
rule for his own guidance, which compelled society to interfere in all that con
cerned him, as if public reason was called upon to supply the defect of private
reason. If we pay attention, we shall observe that in countries where political
liberty was the most cherished, civil liberty was almost unknown. While the
citizens flattered themselves that they were very free, because they took part in
the public deliberations, they wanted that liberty which is most important
to man, that which we now call civil liberty. We may form an idea of the
thoughts and manners of the ancients on this point, by reading one of their
most celebrated writers, Aristotle. In the eyes of this philosopher, the only
title which renders a man worthy of the name of citizen, seems to be the parti
cipation in the government of the republic ; and these ideas, apparently very
democratic and calculated to extend the rights of the in »t numerous class, far
from proceeding, as one would suppose, from an exaggeration of the dignity of
man, was connected in his mind with a profound contempt for man himself.
His system was to reserve all honor and consideration for a very limited num
ber ; the classes of citizens who were thus condemned to degradation and nullity
were all laborers, artisans, and tradesmen. (Pol. 1. vii. c. 9, 12 ; 1. viii. c. 1, 2;
1. iii. c. 1.) This theory supposed, as may be seen, very curious ideas on indi
viduals and society, and is an additional confirmation of what I have said
respecting the eccentricities, not to say monstrosities, which we see in the
ancient republics. Let us never forget that one of the principal causes of the
evil was the want of an intimate knowledge of man ; it was the little value
which was placed upon his dignity as man ; the individual, deprived of guides
to direct him, could not conciliate esteem ; in a word, there was wanting the
light of Christianity, which was alone capable of illuminating the chaos.

The feeling of the dignity of man is deeply engraven on the heart of modern
society; we find everywhere, written in striking characters, this truth, that
man, by virtue of his title of man, is respectable and worthy of high conside
ration ; hence it is that all the schools of modern times that have foolishly
undertaken to exalt the individual, at the imminent risk of producing fearful
perturbations in society, have adopted as the constant theme of their instruc
tions, this dignity and nobility of man. They thus distinguish themselves in
:he most decided mamx*" from the democrats of antiquity; the latter acted in

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 131

ft narrow sphere, without departing from a certain order of things, without look
ing beyond the limits of their own country; in the spirit of modern democrats,
on the contrary, we find a tendency to invade all branches, an ardent propa-
gandism which embraces the whole world. They never invoke mean ideas;
man, his reason, his imprescriptible riyhts, these are their perpetual tbeme.
Ask them what is their design, and they will tell you that they desire to lovel
all things, to avenge the sacred cause of humanity. This exaggeration of ideas,
the pretext and motive for so many crimes, shows us a valuable fact, viz. the
immense progress which Christianity has given to ideas with relation t^ the
dignity of our nature. When they have to mislead societies which owe their
civilization to Christianity, they find no better means than to invoke the dignity
of human nature. The Christian religion, the enemy of all that is criminal,
uould not consent to see society overturned, under the pretence of defending
and raising the dignity of man ; this is the reason why a great number of the
most ardent democrats have indulged in insults and sarcasms against religion.
On the other hand, as history loudly proclaims that all our knowledge and feel
ing of what is true, just, and reasonable on this point, is due to the Christian
religion, it has been recently attempted to make a monstrous alliance between
Christian ideas and the most extravagant of democratic theories. A celebrated
man has undertaken this enterprise; but true Christianity, that is, Catholicity,
rejects these adulterous alliances; it ceases to acknowledge its most eminent
apologists when they have quitted the path of eternal truth. De Lamennais
now wanders in the darkness of error, embracing a deceitful shadow of Chris
tianity ; and the voice of the supreme Pastor of the Church has warned the
faithful against being dazzled by the illusion of a name illustrious by so many
titles. (16)

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE PROGRESS OP INDIVIDUALITY UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF CATHOLICITY

IF we give a just and legitimate meaning to the word individuality, taking
the feeling of personal independence in an acceptation which is not repugnant
to the perfection of the individual, and does not oppose the constitutive princi
ples of all society ; moreover, if we seek the various causes which have influ
enced the development of this feeling, without speaking of that which we have
already pointed out as one of the most important, viz. the true notion of man,
and his connections with his fellows, we shall find many of them which are
quite worthy of attention in Catholicity. JM. Guizot was greatly deceived
when, putting the faithful of the Church in the same rank with the ancient
Romans, he asserted that both were equally wanting in the feeling of personal
independence. He describes the faithful as absorbed by the association of the
Church, entirely demoted to her, ready to sacrifice themselves for her; so that,
according to him, it was the interests of the association which induced them to
act. There is an error here ; but as this error has originated in a truth, it la
our duty to distinguish the ideas and the facts with much attention.

There is no doubt that from the cradle of Christianity the faithful have had
an extreme attachment to the Church, and it was always well understood among
them, that they could not leave the communion of the Church without ceasing
to be numbered among the true disciples of Jesus Christ. It is equally unde
niable that, in the words of M. Guizot, "There prevailed in the Christian
Church a feeling of strong attachment to the Christian corporation, of devotion
to its laws, and an ardent desire to extend its empire;" but it is not true that
*-ho origin and source of ^,11 these feelings was the spirit of association alone, tr

132 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the exclusion of all development of real individuality. The Christian belonged
to an association, but that association was regarded by him as a means of obtain
ing eternal happiness, as the ship in which he was embarked, amid the tempests
of the world, to arrive safe in the port of eternity: and although he believed
it impossible to be saved out of the Church, he did not understand from that
that he was devoted to the Church, but to God. The Roman was ready ta
sacrifice himself for his country ; the Christian, for his faith. When the Unman
died, he died for his country; the faithful did not die foi the 'Church, but for
God. If we open the monuments of Church history, and read the acts of the
martyrs, we shall then see what passed in that terrible moment, when the Chris
tian, fully arousing himself, showed in the presence of the instruments of tor
ture, burning piles, and the most horrible punishments, the true principle which
acted on his mind. The judge asks his name; he declares it, and adds, "lam
a Christian." He is asked to sacrifice to the gods. "We only sacrifice to one
God, the Creator of heaven and earth." He is reproached with the disgrace
of following a man who has been nailed to the cross ; for him the ignominy of
the cross is a glory, and he' loudly proclaims that the Crucified is his Saviour
and his God. He is threatened with tortures ; he despises them, for they are
passing, and rejoices in being able to suffer something for his Master. The
cross of punishment is already prepared, 4l pile is lighted before his eyes, the
executioner raises the fatal axe to strike .. his head; what does it matter to
him ? all this is but for a moment, and after that moment comes a new life of
ineffable and endless happiness. We thus see what influenced his heart; it
was the love of his God and the interest of his eternal happiness. Conse
quently, it is utterly false that the Christian, like men of the ancient republics,
destroyed his individuality in the association to which he belonged, allowing
himself to be absorbed in that association like a drop of water in the immensity
of ocean. The Christian belonged to an association which gave him the rule
of his faith and conduct ; he regarded that association as founded and directed
by God himself; but his mind and his heart were raised to God, and when fol
lowing the voice of the Church, he believed that he was engaged with his own
individual affair, which was nothing less than his eternal happiness. This dis
tinction is quite necessary in an affair which has relations eo various and deli
cate that the slightest confusion may produce considerable errors. Here a
hidden fact reveals itself to us, which is infinitely precious, and throws much
light upon the development and perfecting of the individual in Christian civili
zation. It is absolutely necessary that there should be a social order to which
the individual must submit; but it is also proper that he should not be absorbed
by society to such an extent that he cannot be conceived but as forming part
of it, and remains deprived of his own sphere of action. If this were the case,
never would true civilization be completely developed ; as it consists in the
simultaneous perfecting of the individual and of society, it is necessary, for its
existence, that both should have a well determined sphere, where their peculiar
and respective movements may not check and embarrass each other.

After these reflections, to which I especially call the attention of all thinking
men, I will point out a thing which has, perhaps, not yet been remarked ; it is,
that Christianity has eminently contributed to create that individual sphere in
which man, without breaking the ties which connect him with society, is free
to develop all his peculiar faculties. From the mouth of an Apostle went forth
that generous expression which strictly limits political power : " We ought to
obey God rather than man." (Acts v. "29.) " Obedire oportetDeo magis quam
hominibus." The Apostle thereby proclaims that the individual should ceas«
to acknowledge power, when power exacts from him what he believes to be con
trary to his conscience. It was among Christians that this great example waa
witnessed for the first time ; individuals of all countries, of all agea, of both

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 1 Jii

sexes, of all conditions, braving the anger of authority, and all the furj cf
popular passions, rather than pronounce a single word contrary to the principlea
tvhich they professed in the sanctuary of conscience ; and this, not with armg
in their hands, in the midst of popular commotions, where their impetuous
passions are excited, which communicate to the mind temporary energy, but in
the solitude and obscurity of dungeons, amid the fearful calmness of the tribu
nals, that is, in that situation where man, alone and isolated, cannot show force
and dignity without revealing the elevation of his ideas, the nobleness of his
feelings, the unalterable firmness of his conscience, and the greatness of his
soul. Christianity engraved this truth deeply on the heart of man, that indi
viduals have duties to perform, even when the whole world is aroused against
them ; that they have an immense destiny to fulfil, and that it is entirely their
own affair, the responsibility of which rests upon their own free will. This
important' truth, unceasingly inculcated by Christianity at all times, to both
sexes, to all conditions, must have powerfully contributed to excite in man an
active and ardent feeling of personality. This feeling, with all its sublimity,
combining with the other inspirations of Christianity, all full of dignity and
grandeur, has raised the human mind from the dust, where ignorance and rude
superstitions, and systems of violence, which oppressed it on all sides, had
placed and retained it. How strange and surprising to the ears of Pagans must
have been those energetic words of Justin, which nevertheless expressed the
disposition of mind of the majority of the faithful, when, in his Apology,
addressed to Antoninus Pius, he said, " As we have not placed our hopes on
present things, we contemn those who kill us, death being, moreover, a thing
which cannot be avoided."

This full and entire self-consciousness, this heroic contempt of death, this
calm spirit of a man who, supported by the testimony of intimate feeling, sets
at defiance all the powers of earth, must have tended the more to enlarge the
mind, as they did not emanate from that cold stoical impassibility, the constant
effort of which was to struggle against the nature of things without any solid
motive. The Christian feeling had its origin in a sublime freedom from alt
that is earthly, in a profound conviction of the holiness of duty, and in that
undeniable maxim, that man, in spite of all the obstacles which the world places
in his way, should walk with a firm step towards the destiny which is marked
out for him by his Creator. These ideas and feelings together communicated
to the soul a strong and vigorous temper, which, without reaching in any thing
the savage harshness of the ancients, raised man to all his dignity, nobleness,
and grandeur. It must be observed that these precious effects were not confined
to a small number of privileged individuals, but that, in conformity with the
genius of the Christian religion, they extended to all classes ; for one of the
noblest characters of that divine religion is the unlimited expansion which it
gives to all that is good ; it knows no distinction of persons, and makes its voice
penetrate the obscurest places of society. It was not only to the elevated
classes and philosophers, but to the generality of the faithful, that St. Cyprian,
the light of Africa, addressed himself, when, summing up in a few words all
the grandeur of man, he marked with a bold hand the sublime position where
our soul ought to maintain itself with constancy. "Never," he says, "never
will he who feels himself to be the child of God admire the words of man. lit
falls from kin noblest state who can admire any thiny but God.1' (De Spectaculis.)
Sublime words, which make us boldly raise our heads, and fill our hearts with
noble feelings; words which, diffusing themselves over all classes, like a ferti
lizing warmth, were capable of inspiring the humblest of men with what pro-
riously seemed exclusively reserved for the transports of the poet :

Os homini sublime dedit, coelumque tueri
.lussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere cultus.

M

134 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

The development of the moral life, the interior life, that life in which man
reflecting on himself, is accustomed to render a circumstantial account of all hia
actions, of the motives which actuate him, of the goodness or the wickedness of
those motives, and the object to which they tend, is principally due to Chris
tiariity, to its unceasing influence on man in all his conditions, in all situations
in all moments of his life. Such a progress of the individual life in all that it
has most intimate, most active, and most interesting for the heart of % man, wap
incompatible with that absorption of the individual by society, with that blind
self-denial, in which man forgot himself, to think only of the association of
which he formed a part. This moral and interior life was unknown to the
ancients, because they wanted, principles for supporting, rules for guiding, and
inspirations for exciting and nourishing it. Thus at Rome, where the political
element tries its ascendency over minds, when enthusiasm becomes extinguished
by the effect of intestine dissensions, when every generous feeling becomes
stifled by the insupportable despotism which succeeds to the last agitations of
the republic, we see baseness and corruption develope themselves with fearful
rapidity. The activity of mind which before occupied itself in debates of the
Forum and the glorious exploits of war, no longer finding food, gave itself up
to sensual pleasures with an abandonment which we can hardly imagine now-a-
days, in spite of the looseness of morals which we so justly deplore. Thus we
see among the ancients only these two extremes, either the most exalted patriot
ism, or the complete prostration of the faculties of the soul, which abandons
itself without reserve to the dictates of its irregular passions ; there man wa»
the slave either of his own passions, of- another man, or of society.

Since the moral tie which united men to Catholic society has be^en broken,
since religious belief has been weakened, in consequence of the individual inde-
pendence°which Protestantism has proclaimed in religious matters, it has unhap
pily become possible for us to conceive, by means of examples found in Euro
pean civilization, what man still deprived of real knowledge of himself, hir,
origin and destiny, must have been. We will indicate in another place the
points of resemblance which are found between ancient and modern society in
the countries where the influence of religious ideas is enfeebled. It is enough
now to remark, that if Europe had completely lost Christianity, according tc
the insane desires of some men, a generation would not have passed away with
out there being revived among us the individual and society such as they
were among the ancients, except the modifications which the difference of the
material state of the two civilizations would necessarily produce.

The doctrine of free will, so loudly proclaimed by Catholicity, and sustained
by her with such vigour, not only against the old Pagan teaching, but particu
larly against sectarians at all times, and especially against the founders of the
pretended Reformation, has also contributed more than is imagined to develope
and perfect the individual, to raise his ideas of independence, nobleness, and
dignity. When man comes to consider himself as constrained by the irresisti
ble force of destiny, and attached to a chain of events over which he has nc
control — when he comes to suppose that the operations of his mind, those active
proofs of his freedom, are but vain illusions — he soon annihilates himself; he
feels himself assimilated to the brute ; he ceases to be the prince of living
beings, the rulor of the earth; he is nothing more than a machine fixed in its
place, which is compelled to perform its part in the great system of the uni
verse. The social order ceases to exist; merit and demerit, praise and blame,
reward and punishment, are only unmeaning words. If man enjoys or suffers,
it is only in the same way as a shrub, which is sometimes breathed upcn softly
by the zephyrs, and sometimes blasted by the north wind. How different it i:?
when man is conscious of his liberty ! Then he is master of his destiny ;
and evil, life and death, are before his eyes; he can choose, and nothing

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 18ft

raa vioiate the sanctuary of his conscience. There the soul is enthron id, thsre
she is seated, full of dignity, and the whole world raging against her, the uni
verse falling upon her fragile body, cannot force her will. The moral order is
displayed before us in all its grandeur ; we see good in all its beauty, and evil
in all its deformity; the desire of doing well stimulates, and the fear of doing
ill restrains us ; the sight of the recompense which can be obtained by an effort
of free will, and which appears at the end of the path of virtue, renders that
path more sweet and peaceful, and communicates activity and energy to the
soul. If man is free, there remains something great and terrible, even in his
crime, in his punishment, and even in the despair of hell. What is man de
prived of liberty and yet punished ? What is the meaning of this absurd pro
position, a chiof dogma of the founders of Protestantism ? This man is a weak
and miserable victim, in whose torture a cruel omnipotence delights; a God
who has created him in order to see him suffer ; a tyrant with infinite power,
that is, the most dreacfful of monsters. But if man is free, when he suffers,
he suffers because he has deserved it ; and if we contemplate him in the midst
of despair, plunged into an ocean of horrors, his brow furrowed by the just
lightnings of the Eternal, we seem to hear him still pronounce those terrible
words with a haughty bearing and proud look, non scrviam, I will not obey.

In man, as in the universe, all is wonderfully united ; all the faculties of
man have delicate and intimate relations with each other, and the movement
of one chord in the soul makes all the others vibrate. It is necessary to call
attention to this reciprocal dependence of all our faculties on each other, in
order to anticipate an objection which may be made. We shall be told, all that
has been said only proves that Catholicity has developed the individual in a
mystical sense. No, the observations which I have made show something
more than this ; they prove that we owe to Catholicity the clear idea and lively
feeling of moral order in all its greatness and beauty ; they prove that we owe
her the real strength of what we call conscience, and that if the individual
believes himself to be called to a mighty destiny, confided to his own free will,
arid the care of which belongs entirely to him, it is to Catholicity he owes that
belief; they prove that Catholicity has given man the true knowledge which he
has of himself, the appreciation of his dignity, the respect which is paid to him
as man ; they prove that she has developed in our souls the germs of the noblest
and most generous feelings; for she has raised our thoughts by the loftiest con-
ceptions, dilated our hearts by the assurance of a liberty which nothing can
take away, by the promise of an infinite reward, eternal happiness, while she
leaves in our hands life and death, and makes us in a certain manner the arbiters
of our own destiny. In all this there is more than mere mysticism ; it is no
thing less than the development of the entire man ; nothing less than the true,
the only noble, just, and reasonable individuality ; nothing less than the collected
powerful impulses which urge the individual towards perfection in every sense ;
it is nothing less than the first, the most indispensable, the most fruitful ele
ment of real civilization.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Or THE FAMILY. MONOGAMY. INDISSOLUBILITY OF THE CONJUGAL TIE.

WE hav« seen what the individual owes to Catholicity; let us now see what
th3 family owes her. It is clear that the individual, being the first element of
the family, if it is Catholicity which has tended to perfect him, the improve
ment of the family will thus have been very much her work; but without in.
on this inference, I wish to consider the conjugal tie in itself, for which

130 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

purpose it is necessary to call attention, to woman. I will not repeat here what
phe was among the Romans, and what she is still among the nations who are
not Christians ; history, and still more the literature of Greece and Rome, afford
us sad or rither shameful proofs on this subject; and all the nations of the
earth offer us too many evidences of the truth and sxactness of the observa
tion of Buchanan, viz. that wherever Christianity djes not prevail, there is
a tendency to the degradation of woman. Perhaps on this point Protestant
ism will be unwilling to give way to Catholicity ; it will assert that in all that
affects woman the Reformation has in no degree prejudiced the civilization of
Europe. We will not now inquire what evils Protestantism has occasioned
in this respect j this question will be discussed in another part of the work ;
but it cannot be doubted, that when Protestantism appeared, the Catholic religion
had already completed its task as far as woman is concerned. No one, indeed,
is ignorant that the respect and consideration which are given to women, and
the influence which they exercise on society, date further back than the first
part of the 16th century. Hence it follows that Catholicity cannot have had
Protestantism as a coadjutor; it acted entirely alone in this point, one of the
most important of all true civilization; and if it is generally acknowledged that
Christianity has placed woman in the rank which properly belongs to her, and
which is most conducive to the good of the family and of society, this is a homage
paid to Catholicity ; for at the time when woman was raised from abjection,
when it was attempted to restore her to the rank of companion of man, as wor
thy of him, those dissenting sects that also called themselves Christians did not
exist, and there was no other Christianity than the Catholic Church.

It has been already remarked in the course of this work, that when I give
titles and honours to Catholicity, I avoid having recourse to vague generalities,
and endeavour to support my assertions by facts. The reader will naturally
expect me to do the same here, and to point out to him what are the means
which Catholicity has employed to give respect and dignity to woman; he shall
not be deceived in his expectation. First, and before descending to details, we
must observe that the grand ideas of Christianity with respect to humanity
must have contributed, in an extraordinary manner, to the improvement of the
lot of woman. These ideas, which applied without any difference to woman as
well as to man, were an energetic protest against the state of degradation in
which one-half of the human race was placed. The Christian doctrine made
the existing prejudices against woman vanish for ever; it made her equal to
man by unity of origin and destiny, and in the participation of the heavenly
gifts ; it enrolled her in the universal brotherhood of man, with his fellows
and with Jesus Christ ; it considered her as the child of God, the coheiress of
Jesus Christ ; as the companion of man, and no longer as a slave and the vile
instrument of pleasure. Henceforth that philosophy which had attempted to
degrade her, was silenced; that unblushing literature which treated women
with so much insolence found a check in the Christian precepts, and a repri
mand no less eloquent than severe in the dignified manner in which all the
ecclesiastical writers, in imitation of the Scriptures, expressed themselves on
woman. Yet, in spite of the beneficent influence which the Christian doctrines
must have exercised by themselves, the desired end would not have been com
pletely attained, had not the Church undertaken, with the warmest energy, to
accomplish a work the most necessary, the most indispensable for the good
organization of the family and society, I mean the reformation of marriage.
The Christian doctrine on this point is very simple : one with one exclusively^
and for ever. But the doctrine would have been powerless, if the Church had
not undertaken to apply it, and if she had not carried on this task with invin
eible firmness ; for the passions, above all those of man, rebel against such a
doctrine ; and they would undoubtedly have trodden it under foot, if they had

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 13?

not met with an insurmountable barrier, which did not leave then* tho most
distant hope of triumph. Can Protestantism, which applauded with such sense-
less joy the scandal of Henry VIII., and accommodated itself so basely to the
desires of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, boast of having contributed to
strengthen that barrier ? What a surprising difference ! During many cen
turies, amid circumstances the most various, and sometimes the most terrible,
the Catholic Church struggles with intrepidity against the passions of poten
tates, to maintain unsullied the sanctity of marriage. Neither promises nor
threats could move Rome ; no means could obtain from her any thing contrary
to the instructions of her Divine Master : Protestantism, at the first shock, or
rather at the first shadow of the slightest embarrassment, at the mere fear of
displeasing a prince who certainly was not very powerful, yields, humbles itself,
consents to polygamy, betrays its own conscience, opens a wide door to the pas
sions, and gives up to them the sanctity of marriage, the first pledge for the
good of the family, the foundation-stone of true civilization.

Protestant society on this point, wiser than the miscalled reformers who
attempted to guide it, with admirable good sense repudiated the consequences
of the conduct of its chiefs ; although it did not preserve the doctrines of Catho
licity, it at least followed the salutary impulse which it had received from them,
and polygamy was not established in Europe. But history records facts which
show the weakness of the pretended reformation, and the vivifying power of
Catholicity. It tells us to whom it is owing that the law of marriage, that pal
ladium of society, was not falsified, perverted, destroyed, amid the barbarous
ages, amid the most fearful corruption, violence, and ferocity,- which prevailed
everywhere, as well at the time when invading nations passed pell-mell over
Kurope, as in that of feudality, and when the power of kings had already been
preponderant, — history will tell what tutelary force prevented the torrent of
sensuality from overflowing with* all its violence, with all its caprices, from
bringing about the most profound disorganization, from corrupting the character
jf European civilization, and precipitating it into that fearful abyss iu which
vhe nations of Asia have been for so many centuries.

rrejudiced writers Iiave carefully searched the annals of ecclesiastical history
tor ine differences between popes and kings, and have taken occasion therein to
reproach the Court of Home with its intolerant obstinacy respecting the sanc
tity ol marriage ; if the spirit of party had not blinded them, they would have
understood that, if this intolerant obstinacy had been relaxed for a moment, if
tnc Roman Pontiff had given way one step before the impetuosity of the pas
sions, this first step once made, the descent into the abyss would have been
rapid; they would have admired the spirit of truth, the deep conviction, the
lively faith with which that august see is animated ; no consideration, no fear,
has been able to silence her, when she had occasion to remind all, and espe
cially kings and potentates, of this commandment : " They shall be two in one
flesh; man shall not separate what God has joined." By showing themselves
inflexible on tkis point, even at the risk of the anger of kings, not only have
the j>opes performed the sacred duty which was imposed on them by theii
august character as chiefs of Christianity, but they have executed a politica.
chef d'cvuvre, and greatly contributed to the repose and well-being of nations.
" For/' says Voltaire, " the marriages of princes in Europe decide the destinj
of nations ; and never has there been a court entirely devoted to debauchery,
without producing revolutions and rebellions." (Ensai sur I' Histolre </e»6rale.
t. iii. c. 101.)

Tins correct remark of Voltaire will suffice to vindicate the pope, togethei
with Catholicity, from the calumnies of their wretched detractors : it becomes
still more valuable, and acquires an immense importance, if it is extended be
yond ^he limits of the political order to the social. The imagination is affrighted

18 M 2

[38 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WTTTI CATHOLICITY.

at the thought of what would have happened, if these barbarous kings, in wm.ni
the splendor of the purple ill disguised the sons of the forest, if those haughty
seigneurs, fortified in their castles, clothed in mail, and surrounded by theii
timid vassals, had not found a check in the authority of the Church ; if at the
first glance at a new beauty, if at the first passion which, when enkindled in their
hearts, would have inspired them with a disgust for their legitimate spouses,
they had not had the always-present recollection of an inflexible 'authority.
They could, it is true, load a bishop with vexations ; they could silence him
with threats or promises ; they might control the votes of a particular Council
by violence, by intrigue, by subornation ; but, in the distance, the -power of
the Vatican, the shadow of the Sovereign Pontiff, appeared to them like an
alarming vision; they then lost all hope; all struggles became useless; the
most violent endeavors would never have given them the victory ; the most
astute intrigues, the most humble entreaties, would have obtained the same
reply : " One with one only, and for ever."

If we read but the history of the middle ages, of that immense scene of vio
lence, where the barbarian, striving to break the bonds which civilization
attempted to impose on him, appears so vividly; if we recollect that the Church
was obliged to keep guard incessantly and vigilantly, not only to prevent the
ties of a marriage from being broken, but even to preserve virgins (and even
those who were dedicated to God) from violence ; we shall clearly see that, if
she had not opposed herself, as a wall of brass, to the torrent of sensuality, the
palaces of kings and the castles of seigneurs would have speedily become their
seraglios and harems. What would have happened in the other classes?
They would have followed the same course ; and the women of Europe would
have remained in the state of degradation in which the Mussulman women still
are. As I have mentioned the followers of Mohammed, I will reply in passing
to those who pretend to explain monogamy and polygamy by climate alone.
Christians and Mohammedans have been for a long time under the same sky,
and their religions have been established, by the vicissitudes of the two races,
sometimes in cold and sometimes in mild and temperate climates ; and yet we
have not seen the religions accommodate themselves to the climates ; but rather,
the climates have been, as it were, forced to bend to the religions. European
nations owe eternal gratitude to Catholicity, which has preserved monogamy
for them, one of the causes which undoubtedly have contributed the most to
the good organization of the family, and the exaltation of woman. What would
now be the condition of Europe, what respect would woman now enjoy, if
Luther, the founder of Protestantism, had succeeded in inspiring society with
the indifference which he shows on this point in his commentary on Genesis ?
" As to whether we may have several wives," says Luther, " the authority of
the patriarchs leaves us completely free." He afterwards adds that "it is a
thiny neither permitted nor prohibited, and that he does not decide any thing
thereup(m'." Unhappy Europe ! if a man, who had whole nations as followers,
had uttered such words some centuries earlier, at the time when civilization had
not yet received an impulse strong enough to make it take a decided line on
the most important points, in spite of false doctrines. Unhappy Europe.! if at
the time when Luther wrote, manners had not been already formed, if the good
organization given to the family by Catholicity had not been too deeply rooted
to be torn up by the hand of man Certainly the scandal of the Landgrave
of Hesse-Cassel would not then have remained an isolated example, and the
culpable compliance of the Lutheran doctors would have produced bitter fruits.
What would that vacillating faith, that uncertainty, that cowardice with which
the Protestant Church was seen to tremble at the mere demand of such a prince
as the Landgrave, have availed, to control the fierce impetuosity of barbaroue
and corrupted nations ? How would a struggle, lasting for ages, have beep

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. LiJ9

sustained by those who, at the first menace of battle, gave way, and weie routed
before the shock ?

Besides monogamy, it may be said that there is nothing more important than
the indissolubility of marriage. Those who, departing from the doctrine of the
Church, think that it is useful in certain cases to allow divorce, so as to dis
solve the conjugal tie, and permit each of the parties to marry again, still will
not deny that they regard divorce as a dangerous remedy, which the legislator
only avails himself of with regret, and only on account of crime or faithless
ness ; they will see, also, that a great number of divorces would produce very
great evils, and that in order to prevent these in countries where the civil laws
allow the abuse of divorce, it is necessary to surround this permission with all
imaginable precaution ; they will consequently grant that the most efficacious
manner of preventing corruption of manners, of guarantying the tranquillity
of families, and of opposing a firm barrier to the torrent of evils which is ready
to inundate society, is to establish the indissolubility of marriage as a moral
principle, to base it upon motives which exercise a powerful ascendency over the
heart, and to keep a constant restraint on the passions, to prevent them from
slipping down so dangerous a declivity. It is clear that there is no work more
worthy of being the object of the care and zeal of the true religion. Now,
what religion but the Catholic has fulfilled this duty ? What other religion has
more perfectly accomplished so salutary and difficult a task ? Certainly not
Protestantism, for it did not even know how to penetrate the depth of the
reasons which guided the conduct of the Church on this point. I have taken
care to do justice in another place to the wisdom which Protestant society has
displayed in not giving itself up entirely to the impulse which its chiefs wished
to communicate to it. But it must not be supposed from this that Protestant
doctrines have not had lamentable consequences in countries calling themselves
reformed. Let us hear what a Protestant lady, Madame de Stael, says in her
book on Germany, speaking of a country which she loves and admires : " Love,"
she says, " is a religion in Germany, but a poetical religion which tolerates verj
freely all that sensibility can excuse. It cannot be denied that in the Protest
ant provinces the facility of divorce is injurious to the sanctity of marriage.
They chanye husbands us quietly us if they were arranging the incidents of a
drama : the good nature of the man and woman prevents the mixture of any
bitterness with their easy ruptures ; and as there is among the Germans more
imagination than real passion, the most curious events take place with singular
tranquillity. Yet it is thus that manners and characters lose all consistency,'
the paradoxical spirit destroys the most sacred institutions, and there are no
well established rules on any subject." (De V AllemayitK, p. 1, c. 3.) Misled
by their hatred against the Roman Church, and excited by their rage for inno
vation in all things, the Protestants thought they had made a great reform in
secularizing marriage, if I may so speak, and in rejecting the Catholic doctrine,
which declared it a real sacrament. This is not the place to enter upon a dog
matical discussion of this matter ; I shall content myself with observing, that
by depriving marriage of the august seal of a sacrament, Protestantism showed
that it had little knowledge of the human heart. To consider marriage, not as
A simple civil contract, but as a real sacrament, was to place it under the august
shade of religion, and to raise it above the stormy atmosphere of the passions •
and who can doubt that this was absolutely necessary to restrain the most active,
capri?'ous, and violent passion of the heart of man ? The civil laws are insuf
ficient to produce such an effect. Motives are required, which, being drawn
from a higher source, exert a more efficacious influence. The Protestant doc
trine overturned the power of the Church with respect to marriage, and gave
up matters of this kind exclusively to the civil power. Some one will perhaps
think that the increase of the seculai ^uwer on this point could not but serve

140 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the cause of civilization, and that to drive the ecclesiastical authority from this
ground was a magnificent triumph gained over exploded prejudices, a valuable
victory over unjust usurpation. Deluded man ! If your mind possessed anj
lofty thought, if your heart felt the vibration of those harmonicas chords which
display the passions of man with so much delicacy and exactness, and teach the
best means of directing them, you would see, you would feel, that to place
marriage under the mantle of religion, and to withdraw it as much as possible
from profane interference, was to purify, to embellish, and to surround it with
the most enchanting beauty; for thus is that precious treasure, which is blasted
by a look, and tarnished by the slightest breath, inviolably preserved. Would
you not wish to have the nuptial bed veiled and strictly guarded by religion ?

CHAPTER XXV.

OF THE PASSION OP LOVE.

BUT it will be said to Catholics, " Do you not see that your doctrines are
too hard and rigorous ? They do not consider the weakness and inconstancy of
the human heart, and require sacrifices above its strength. Is it not cruel tc
attempt to subject the most tender affections, the most delicate feelings, to the
rigor of a principle ? Cruel doctrine, which endeavors to hold together, bound
to each other by a fatal tie, those who no longer love, who feel a mutual disgust,
who perhaps hate each other with a profound hatred ! When you answer these
two beings who long to be separated, who would ratber die than remain united,
with an eternal Never, showing them the divine seal which was placed upon
their union at the solemn moment, do you not forget all the rules of prudence ?
Is not this to provoke despair? Protestantism, accommodating itself to our
infirmity, accedes more easily to the demands, sometimes of caprice, but often
also of weakness; its indulgence is a thousand times preferable to your rigor."
This requires an answer ; it is necessary to remove the delusion which produces
these arguments, too apt, unhappily, to mislead the judgment, because they
begin by seducing the heart. In the first place, it is an exaggeration to say
that the Catholic system reduces unhappy couples to the extremity of despair
There are cases in which prudence requires that they should separate, and then
neither the doctrines nor the practice of the Catholic Church oppose the separa
tion. • It is true that this does not dissolve the conjugal tie, and that neither of
the parties can marry again. But it cannot be said that one of them is subject
to tyranny; they are not compelled to live together, consequently they do not
Buffer the intolerable torment of remaining united when they abhor each other.
Very well, we shall be told, the separation being pronounced, the parties are
freed from the punishment of living together ; but they cannot contract new
ties, consequently they are forbidden to gratify another passion which, perhaps,
their heart conceals, and which may have been the cause of the disgust or the
hatred whence arose the unhappiness or discord of their first union. Why not
consider the marriage as altogether dissolved ? Why should not the parties
become entirely free ? Permit them to obey the feelings of their hearts, which,
newly fixed on another object, already foresee happier days. Here, no doubt,
the answer seems difficult, and the force of the difficulty becomes urgent; but,
nevertheless, it is here that Catholicity obtains the most signal triumph ; it is
here it clearly shows how profound is its knowledge of the heart of man, how
prudent its doctrines, and how wise and provident its conduct. Its rigor, which
seems excessive, is only necessary severity; this conduct, far from meriting the
reproach of cruelty, is a guarantee for the repose and well-being of man. But
;t is a thing which it is difficult to understand at first sight; thus we are ccm

PROTES1ANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 141

pelkd to dev elope this matter by entering into a profound examination of the
principles which justify by the light of reason the conduct pursued by the
Catholic Church; let us examine this conduct, not only in respect to marriage,
but in all that relates to the direction of the heart of man.

In the direction of the passions there are two systems, the one of compliance,
the other of resistance. Tn the first of these they are yielded to as they advance ;
an invincible obstacle is never opposed to them ; they are never left without
aope. A line is traced around them which, it is true, prevents them from ex
ceeding a certain boundary; but they are given to understand that if they come
to place their foot upon this limit, it will retire a little further ; so that the
compliance is in proportion to the energy and obstinacy of their demands. In
the second system, a line is equally marked out to the passions which they
cannot pass ; but it is a line fixed, immovable, and everywhere guarded by a
wall of brass. In vain do they attempt to pass it ; they have not even the
shadow of hope ; the principle which resists them will never change, will never
consent to any kind of compromise. Therefore, no resource remains but to take
that course which is always open to man, that of sin. The first system allows
the fire to break out, to prevent an explosion; the second hinders the beginning
of it, in the fear of being compelled to arrest its progress. In the first, the
passions are feared and regulated at their birth, and hopes of restraining them
when they have grown up are entertained ; in the second, it is thought that, if
it is difficult to restrain them when they are feeble, it will be still more so when
they are strengthened. In the one, they act on the supposition that the pas
sions are weakened by indulgence ; in the other, it is believed that gratification,
far from satiating, only renders them every day more devouring.

It may be said, generally speaking, that Catholicity follows the second of
these systems ; that is to say, with respect to the passions, her constant rule is
to check them at ihe first step, to deprive them of all hope from the first, and
to stifle them, if possible, in their cradle. It must be observed, that we speak
here of the severity with respect to the passions themselves, not with respect to
man, who is their prey ; it is very consistent to give no truce to passion, and to
be indulgent towards the person under its influence ; to be inexorable toward?
the oifeuce, and to treat the offender with extreme mildness. With respect to
marriage, this system has been acted on by Catholicity with astonishing firm
ness ; Protestantism has taken the opposite course. Both are agreed on this
point, that divorce, followed by the dissolution of the conjugal tic, is a very
great evil ; but there is this difference between them, that the Catholic system
does not leave even the hope of a conjuncture in which this dissolution will be
permitted ; it forbids it absolutely, without any restriction ; it declares it im
possible : the Protestant system, on the contrary, consents to it in certain cases.
Protestantism does not possess the divine seal which guaranties the perpetuity
of marriage, and renders it sacred and inviolable ; Catholicity does possess thiy
seal, impresses it on the mysterious tie, and from that moment marriage remains
under the shddow of an august symbol. Which of the two religions is the most
prudent in this point ? Which acts with the most wisdom 'I To answer tin?
question, let us lay aside the dogmatical reasons, and the intrinsical morality of
the human actions which form the subject of the laws which we are now exa
mining; and let us see which of the two systems is the most conducive to the
difficult task of managing and directing the passions. After having considered
the nature of the human heart, and consulted the experience of every day, it
may be affirmed that the best way to repress a passion is to leave it without
hope; to comply with it, to allow it continual indulgences, is to excite it more
and more; it 's to play with fire amid a heap of combustibles, by allowing the
flame to be litx from time to time, in the vain confidence of being always able
to put out the conflagration Let us take a rapid glance at the most violent

142 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

passions of the heart of man, and observe what is their ordinary course, accord
ing to the system which is pursued in their regard. Look at the gambler, who
is ruled by an indefinable restlessness, which is made up of an insatiable cupi
dity and an unbounded prodigality, at the same time. The most enormous for-
tune will not satisfy him ; arid yet he risks all, without hesitation, to the hazard
of a moment. The man who still dreams of immense treasures amid the most
fearful misery, restlessly pursues an object which resembles gold, b\tt which is
not it, for the possession thereof does not satisfy him. His heart can only exist
amid uncertainty, chances, and perils. Suspended between hope and fear, he
seems to be pleased with the rapid succession of lively emotions which unceas
ingly agitate and torment him. What remedy will cure this malady — this de
vouring fever ? Will you recommend to him a system of compliance ? will you
tell him to gamble, but only to a certain amount, at certain times, and in cer
tain places ? What will you gain by this ? Nothing at all. If these means
were good for any thing, there would be no gambler in the world who would
not be cured of his passion ; for there is no one who has not often marked out
tor himself these limits, and often said to himself, " You shall only play till
such an hour, in such a place, and to such an amount." What is the effect of
these palliations — of these impotent precautions — on the unhappy gambler ?
That he miserably deceives himself. The passion consents, only in order to
gain strength, and the better to secure the victory : thus it gains ground ; it con
stantly enlarges its sphere ; and leads its victim again into the same, or into
greater excesses. Do you wish to make a radical cure ? If there be a remedy,
it must be to abstain completely ; a remedy which may appear difficult at first,
but will be found the easiest in practice. When the passion finds itself de
prived of all hope, it will begin to diminish, and in the end will disappear.
No man of experience will raise the least doubt as to the truth of what I have
said ; every one will agree with me, that the only way to destroy the formidable
passion of gambling is to deprive it at once of all food, to leave it without hope.
Let us pass to another example, more analogous to the subject which I intend
to explain. Let us suppose a man under the influence of love. Do you believe
that the best way to cure his passion will be to give him opportunities, even
though very rare, of seeing the object of his passion ? Do you think that it will
be salutary to authorize him to continue, while you forbid him to multiply, these
dangerous interviews ? Will such a precaution quench the flame which burns
in his heart? You may be sure that it will not. The limits will even aug
ment its force. If you allow it any food, even with the most parsimonious hand,
if you permit it the least success, you see it constantly increase, until it upset
every thing that opposes it. But take away 'all hope, send the lover on a long
journey, or place before him an impediment which precludes the probability, or
even the possibility, of success ; then, except in very rare cases, you will obtain
at first distraction, and then forgetfulness. Is not this the daily teaching of
experience ? Is it not tbe remedy which necessity every day suggests to the
fathers of families ? The passions resemble fire. They are extinguished by a
large quantity of water ; but a few drops only render them more ardent. Let
us raise our thoughts still higher; let us observe the passions acting in a wider
field, in more extended regions. Whence comes it that so many strong pafi-
sions are awakened at times of public disturbance ? It is, because then they
all hope to be gratified ; it is, because the highest ranks, the oldest and most
powerful institutions, having been overturned, and replaced by others, which
were hitherto imperceptible, all the passions see a road open before them, amid
thfe tempest and confusion ; the barriers apparently insurmountable, the sight of
which prevented their existence, or strangled them in the cradle, do not exist;
as all is then unprotected and defenceless, it is only required to have boMne«r
ind intrepidity enough to stand amid the ruins of all that was old.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 143

Regarding things ill the abstract, there is nothing more strikingly absurd
i ban hereditary monarchy, the succession secured to a family which may at any
time place on "the throne a child, a fool, or a wretch : and yet in practice there
is nothing more wise, prudent, and provident. This has been taught by the
long experience of ages, it has been shown by reason, and proved by the sad
warnings of those nations who have tried elective monarchy. Now, what is the
cause of this ? It is what we are endeavoring to explain. Hereditary monar
chy precludes all the hopes of irregular ambition; without that, society always
contains a germ of trouble, a principle of revolt, which is nourished by those
who conceive a hope of one day obtaining the command. In quiet times, and
under an hereditary monarchy, a subject, however rich, however distinguished
he may be for his talent or his valour, cannot, without madness, hope to be
king ; and such a thought never enters his head. But change the circumstances,
— admit, I will not say, tb<> probability, but the possibility of such an event,
and you will see that there will immediately be ardent candidates.

It would be easy to develope this doctrine more at length, and apply it to all
the passions of man ; but enough has been said to show that the first thing to
be done when you have to subdue a passion, is to oppose to it an insurmountable
barrier, which it can have no hope of passing. Then the passion rages for a
little time, it rebels against the obstacle that resists it; but when it finds that
to be immovable, it recedes, it is cast down, and, like the waves of the sea, it
falls back murmuring to the level which has been marked out for it.

There is a passion in the heart of man, a passion which exerts a powerful
influence on the destinies of his life, and too often, by its deceitful illusions,
forms a long chain of sadness and misfortune. This passion, which has for its
necessary object the preservation of the human race, is found, in some form, in
all the beings of nature ; but, inasmuch as it resides in the soul of an intelli
gent being, it assumes a peculiar character in man. In brutes, it is only an
instinct, limited to the preservation of the species ; in man, the instinct becomes
a passion; and that passion, enlivened by the tire of imagination, rendered subtile
by the powers of the mind, inconstant and capricious, because it is guided by a
free will, which can indulge in as many whims as there are different impressions
for the senses and the heart, is changed into a vague, tickle feeling, which is
never contented, and which nothing can satisfy. Sometimes it is the restless
ness of a man in a fever; sometimes the frenzy of a madman ; sometimes a
dream, which ravishes the soul into regions of bliss ; sometimes the anguish
and the convulsions of agony. Who can describe the variety of forms under
which this deceitful passion presents itself? Who can tell the number of snares
which it lays for the steps of unhappy mortuls ? Observe it at its birth, follow
it in its career, up to the moment when it dies out like an expiring lamp.
Hardly has the down appeared on the face of man, when there arises in hig
heart a mysterious feeling, which fills him with trouble and uneasiness, without
his being aware of the cause. A pleasing melancholy glides into his heart,
thoughts before unknown enter his mind, seductive images pervade his imagi
nation, a secret attraction acts on his soul,, unusual gravity appears in his
features, all his inclinations take a new direction. The games of childhood no
longer please him ; every thing shows a new life, less innocent, less tranquil ;
the tempest does not yet rage, the sky is not darkened, but clouds, t'nged with
fire, are the sad presage of what is to come. When he becomes adok scent, that
which was hitherto a feeling, vague, mysterious, incomprehensible, even to him
self, becomes, from that time, more decided ; objects are seen more clearly, they
appear in their real nature; the passion soes, and seizes on them. But do not
imagine that it becomes more constant on - that account. It is as vain, as
changeable, as capricious as the multitude of objects which by turns present
* icuiselves to it. It is constantly deluded, it pursues fleeting shadows, seeks a

144 PROTESTANTISM COMPARFD WITH CATHOLICITY.

satisfaction which it never finds, ;ind awaits a happiness -which it never attain?
With an excited imagination, a burning heart, with his whole soul transported,
and all his faculties subdued, the ardent young man is surrounded by a brilliant
chain of illusions; he communicates these to all that environs him; he gives
greater splendor to the light of heaven, he clothes the earth with richer ver
dure and more brilliant coloring, he sheds on all the reflection of his own en
chantment.

In manhood, when the thoughts are more grave and fixed, when the heart is
more constant, the will more firm, and resolutions more lasting j when the con
duct which governs the destinies of life is subjected to rule, and, as it were,
confirmed in its faith, this mysterious passion continues to agitate the heart of
man, and it torments him with unceasing disquietude. We only observe that
the passion is become stronger and more energetic, owing to the development
of the physical organization ; the pride which inspires man with independence
of life, the feeling of greater strength, and the abundance of new powers, render
him more decided, bold, and violent ; while the warnings and lessons of expe
rience have made him more provident and crafty. We no longer see the candor
of his earlier years. He now knows how to calculate ; he is able to approach
his object by covert ways, and to choose the surest means. Woe to the man
who does not provide in time against such an enemy ! His existence will be
consumed by a fever of agitation ; amid disquietudes and torments, if he does
not die in the flower of his age, he will grow old still ruled by this fatal pas
sion ; it will accompany him to the tomb, surrounding him, in his last days,
with those repulsive and hideous forms which are exhibited in a countenance
furrowed by years, and in eyes which are already veiled by the shades of
death.

What plan should be adopted to restrain this passion, to confine it within just
limits, and prevent its bringing misfortune to individuals, disorder to families,
and confusion to society? The invariable rule of Catholicity, in the morality
which she teaches, as well as in the institutions which she establishes, is repres
sion; Catholicism does not allow a desire she declares to be culpable in the eyes of
God ; even a look, when accompanied by an impure thought. Why this severity?
For two reasons ; on account of the intrinsic morality which there is in thi«
prohibition ; and also, because there is profound wisdom in stifling the evil at
its birth. It is certainly easier to prevent a man's consenting to evil desires,
than it is to hinder his gratifying them when he has allowed them to enter hi"
inflamed heart. There is profound reason in securing tranquillity to the soul,
by not allowing it to remain, like Tantalus, with the water at his burning lips.
" Quid vis videre, quod non licet habere?" Why do you wish to see that which
you are forbidden to possess ? is the wise observation of the author of the admi
rable Imitation of Christ; thus summing up, in a few words, all the prudence
which is contained in the holy severity of the Christian doctrine.

The ties of marriage, by assigning a legitimate object to the passions, still do
not dry up the source of agitation and the capricious restlessness which the
heart conceals. Possession cloys and disgusts, beauty fades and decays, the
illusions vanish, and the charms disappear; man, in the presence of a reality
which is far from reaching the beauty of the dreams inspired by his ardent
imagination, feels new desires arise in his heart; tired with what he possesses,
he entertains new illusions; he seeks elsewhere the ideal happiness which he
thought he had found, and quits the unpleasing reality which thus deceives his
brightest hopes.

Give, then, the reins to the passions of man ; allow him in any way to enter
tain the illusion that he can make himself any new ties ; permit him to believe
that he is not attached for ever, and without recall, to the companion of his life;
and you will see that disgust will soon take possession of him, that discord will

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 145

be more violent and striking, that the ties will begin to wear out before they
are contracted, and will break at the first shock. Proclaim, on tho contrary, a
law which makes no exception of poor or rich, weak or powerful, vassals 01
kings, which makes no allowance for difference of situation, of character, health,
or any of those numberless motives which, in the hands of passions, and espe
cially those of powerful men, are easily changed into pretexts; proclaim that
this law is from heaven, show a divine seal on the marriage tie, tell the mur
muring passions that if they will gratify themselves they must do so by immo
rality ; tell them that the power which is charged with the preservation of this
divine law will never make criminal compliances, that it will never dispense
with the infraction of the divine law, and that the crime will never be without
remorse ; you will then see the passions become calm and resigned ; the law
will be diifused and strengthened, will take root in customs ; you will have
secured the good order and tranquillity of families for ever, and society will be
indebted to you for an immense benefit. Now this is exactly what Catholicity
has done, by efforts which lasted for ages ; it is what Protestantism would have
destroyed, if Europe had generally followed its doctrine and example, if the
people had not been wiser than their deceitful guides.

Protestants and false philosophers, examining the doctrines and institutions
of the Catholic Church through their prejudices and animosity, have not under
stood the admirable power of the two characteristics impressed at all times and
in A!! places on the ideas and works of Catholicity, viz. unity and fixity ; unity
in doctrines, and^x% in conduct. Catholicity points out an object, and wishes
us to pursue it straight forward. It is a reproach to philosophers and Protest
ants, that after having declaimed against unity of doctrine, they also declaimed
against fixity of conduct. If they had reflected on man, they would have un
derstood that this fixity is the secret of guiding and ruling him, and, when desi
rable of restraining his passions, of exalting his mind when necessary, and of ren
dering him capable of great sacrifices and heroic actions. There is nothing worse
for man than uncertainty and indecision ; nothing that weakens and tends more to
make him useless. Indecision is to the will what skepticism is to the mind.
Give a man a definite object, and if he will devote himself to it, he will attain it.
Let him hesitate between two different ways, without a fixed rule to guide his con
duct ; let him be ignorant of his intention ; let him not know whither he is going,
*~v* TOM will see his energy relax, his strength diminish, and he will stop. Do
vt^u JCAOW by what secret great minds govern the world ? Do you know what ren
ders them capable of heroic actions ? And how all those who surround them are
rendered so? It is that they have a fixed object, both for themselves and for
others ; it is that they see that object clearly, desire it ardently, strive after it
directly, with firm hope and lively faith, without allowing any hesitation in them
selves or in others. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, and the other heroes of ancient
and modern times, no doubt exercised a fascinating influence by the ascendency
of their genius ; but the secret of this ascendency, the secret of their power, and
of that force Qf impulse by which they surmounted all, was the unity of thought,
the fixity of plan, which produced in them that invincible, irresistible character
which gave them an immense superiority over other men. Thus Alexander
passed the Granicus, undertook and completed his wonderful conquest of Asia ;
thus Caesar passed the Rubicon, put Pompey to flight, triumphed at Pharsalia,
and made himself master of the world ; thus did Napoleon disperse those who
parleyed about the fate of France, conquered his enemies at Marengo, obtained
the crown of Charlemagne, alarmed and astonished the world by the victories
of Austerlitz and Jena.

"Without unity there is no order, without fixity there is no stability; and in
the moral as in the physical world, without order and stability nothing prospers.
Protestantism which has pretended to advance the individual and society by
19 N

148 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

destroying religious unity, has introduced into creeds and instituti ms the ami
tiplicity and fickleness of private judgment; it has everywhere spread confision
and disorder, and has altered the nature of European civilization by inoculating
it with a disastrous principle which has caused and will continue to cause lament
able evils. And let it not be supposed, that Catholicity, on account of the
unity of her doctrines and the fixity of her conduct, is opposed to the progress
of ages. There is nothing to prevent that which is one from advancing, and
there may be movement in a system which has some fixed points. The uni-
rerse whose grandeur astonishes us, whose prodigies fill us with admiration,
whose beauty and variety enchant us, is united, is ruled by laws constant and
ixed. Behold some of the reasons which justify the strictness of Catholicity,
aehold why she has not been able to comply with the demands of a passion
vhich, once let loose, has no boundary or barrier, introduces trouble into hearts,
disorder into families, takes away the dignity of manners, dishonors the modesty
of women, and lowers them from the noble rank of the companions of men. I
do not deny that Catholicity is strict on this point ; but she could not give up
this strictness without renouncing at the same time the sublime functions of the
depository of sound morality, the vigilant sentinel which guards the destinies
M!' humanity. (17)

CHAPTER XXVI.

VIRGINITY IN ITS SOCIAL ASPECT.

WE have seen, in the fifteenth chapter, with what jealousy Catholicity endea
vors to veil the secrets of modesty • with what perseverance she imposes the
restraint of morality on the most impetuous passion of the human heart. She
shows us all the importance which belongs to the contrary virtue, by crowning
with peerless splendor the total abstinence from sensual pleasure, viz. virginity.
Frivolous minds, and principally those who are inspired by a voluptuous heart,
do not understand how much Catholicity has thus contributed to the elevation of
woman ; but such will not be the case with reflecting men who are capable of seeing
that all that tends to raise to the highest degree of delicacy the feeling of modesty,
all that fortifies morality, all that contributes to make a considerable - - --V.r of
women models of the most heroic virtue, equally tends to place wo*~ . ~«,.j\^
the atmosphere of gross passion. Woman then ceases to be presented to the
eyes of man as the mere instrument of pleasure ; none of the attractions with
which nature has endowed her are lost or diminished, and she has no longer to
dread becoming an object of contempt and disgust, after having been the un
happy victim of profligacy.

The Catholic Church is profoundly acquainted with these truths ; and while
she watched over the sanctity of the conjugal tie, while she created in the bosom
of the family this admirable dignity of the matron, she covered with a myste
rious veil the countenance of the Christian virgin, and she carefully guarded
the spouses of the Lord in the seclusion of the sanctuary. It was reserved for
Luther, the gross profaner of Catharine de Bore", to act in defiance of the pro
found and delicate wisdom of the Church on this point. After the apostate
monk had violated the sacred seal set by religion on the nuptial bed, his was
the unchaste band to tear away the sacred veil of virgins consecrated to God :
it was worthy of his hard heart to excite the cupidity of princes, to induce {hem
to seize upon the possessions of these defenceless virgins, and expel them from
their abodes. Sec him everywhere excite the flame of sensuality, and break
through all control. What will become of virgins devoted to the sanctuary?
Like timid doves, will they not fall into the snares of the libertine ? Is thir

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED wITH CATHOLICITY, IH

tne way to increase the respect paid to the female sex ? Is this the wa^ to
increase the feeling of modesty and to advance humanity? Was this the ^ay
in which Luther gave a generous impulse to future generations, perfected the
human mind, and gave vigor and splendor to refinement and civilization? What
man with a tender and sensitive heart can endure the shameless declamation
of Luther, especially if he has read the Cyprians, the Ambroses, the Jeromes.,
and the other shining lights of the Catholic Church, on the sublime honor of
the Christian virgin ? Who, then, will object to see, during ages when the
most savage barbarism prevailed, those secluded dwellings where the spouses of
the Lord secured themselves from the dangers of the world, incessantly em
ployed in raising their hands to heaven, to draw down upon the earth the dewa
of divine mercy ? In times and countries the most civilized, how sad is the
contrast between the asylums of the purest and loftiest virtue, and the ocean of
dissipation and profligacy ! Were these abodes a remnant of ignorance, a mo
nument of fanaticism, which the coryphaei of Protestantism did well to sweep
from the earth ? If this be so, let us protest against all that is noble and dis
interested ; let us stifle in our hearts all enthusiasm for virtue ; let every thing
be reduced to the grossest sensuality; let the painter throw away his pencil, the
poet his lyre ; let us forget our greatness and our dignity ; let us degrade our
selves, saying, " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die !"

No ; true civilization can never forgive Protestantism for this immoral and
impious work ; true civilization can never forgive it for having violated the
sanctuary of modesty and innocence, for having employed all its efforts to
destroy respect for virginity; thus treading under foot a doctrine professed by
all the human race. It did not respect what was venerated by the Greeks in
the priestesses of Ceres, by the Romans in their vestals, by the Gauls in their
druidesses, by the Germans in their prophetesses. It has carried the want of
respect for modesty farther than was ever done by the dissolute nations of Asia,
and the barbarians of the new world. It is certainly a disgrace for Europe to
have attacked what was respected in all parts of the world, to have treated as a
mistaken prejudice the universal belief of the human race, sanctioned, more
over, by Christianity. What invasion of barbarians was equal to this attack
Df Protestantism on all that ought to be most inviolable among men ? It has
set the fatal example in modern revolutions of the crimes which have been com
mitted.

When we see, in warlike rage, the barbarity of the conquerors remove all
restraint from a licentious soldiery, and let them loose against the abodes of
virgins consecrated to God, there is nothing but what may be conceived. But
when these holy institutions are persecuted by system, when the passions of the
populace are excited against them, by grossly assailing their origin and object,
this is more than brutal and inhuman. It is a thing which cannot be described,
when those who act in this way boast of being Reformers, followers of the pure
Gospel, and proclaim themselves the disciples of Him who, in His sublime
councils, has pointed out virginity as one of the noblest virtues that can adorn
the Christian's crown. Now, who is ignorant that this was one of the works to
which Protestantism devoted itself with the greatest ardor ?

Woman without modesty will be an incentive to sensuality, but will ne^ei
attract the soul by the mysterious feeling which is called love. It is very re
markable, that although the most urgent desire of the heart of woman is to
please, yet as soon as she forgets modesty she becomes displeasing and disgust
ing. Thus it is wisely ordained that what wounds her heart the most sharply,
becomes the punishment of her fault. Hence, every thing that maintains in
woman the delicate feeling of modesty, elevates her, adorns her, gives her greater
ascendency over the heart of man, and creates for her a distinguished place in
the domestic as wel! as in the social order. These truths were not understood

14^ PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

by Protestantism when it condemned virginity. It is true this virtue is not *
necessary condition of modesty, but it is its beau ideal and type of perfection
and certainly we cannot destroy this model, by denying its beauty, by condemn
ing its imitation as injurious, without doing great injury to modesty itself, which,
continually struggling against the most powerful passion of the heart of man,
cannot be preserved in all its purity, unless it be accompanied by the greatest
precautions. Like a flower of infinite delicacy, of ravishing colours, of the
sweetest perfume, it can scarcely support the slightest breath of wind ; its beauty
is destroyed w.th extreme facility, and its perfume readily evaporates.

But you will perhaps urge against virginity the injury which it does to popu
lation ; you will consider the offerings which are made on the altar by this vir
tue as so much taken from the multiplication of the human race. Fortunately
the observations of the most distinguished political economists have destroyed
this delusion, originated by Protestantism, and supported by, the incredulous
philosophy of the 18th century. Facts have shown, in a convincing manner,
two truths of equal importance in vindicating Catholic doctrines and institu
tions; 1, that the happiness of nations is not necessarily in proportion to the
increase of their population ; 2, that the augmentation and diminution of the
population depend on many concurrent causes; that religious celibacy, if it be
among them, has an insignificant influence.

A false religion and an illegitimate and egotistical philosophy have attempted
to assimilate the secrets of this increase of the human race to that of other liv
ing beings. Ah idea of religion has been taken away; they have seen in
humanity only a vast field where nothing was to be left sterile. Thus they have
prepared the way for the doctrine which considers individuals as machines from
which all possible profit should be drawn. No more was thought of charity, or
the sublime instructions of religion with respect to the dignity and destinies of
man ; thus industry has become cruel, and the organization of labor, established
on a basis purely material, increases the present, but fearfully menaces the
future well-being of the rich.

How profound are the designs of Providence ! The nation which has carried
these fatal principles to the fullest extent now finds itself overcharged with men
and products. Frightful misery devours her most numerous classes, and all the
ability of her rulers will not be able to avoid the rock she is running on, urged
by the power of the elements to which she has abandoned herself. The emi
nent professors of Oxford who, it seems, begin to see the radical vices of Pro
testantism, would find here a rich subject for meditation, if they would examine
how far the pretended reformers of the 16th century have contributed, in pre
paring the critical situation in which England finds herself, in spite of her im
mense progress.

In the physical world all is disposed by number, weight, and measure ; the
laws of the universe show infinite calculation — infinite geometry ; but let us
not imagine that we can express all by our imperfect signs, and include every
thing in our limited combinations ; let us, above all, avoid the foolish error of
assimilating too much the moral and the physical world — of applying indiscrimi
nately to the first what only belongs to the second, and of upsetting by our pride
the mysterious harmony of the creation. Man is not born simply for multipli
cation of his species; this is not the only part which he is intended to perform
in the great machine of the universe ; he is a being according to the image and
likeness of God — a being who has his proper destiny — a destiny superior to all
that surrounds him on earth. Do not debase him, do not level him with the
earth, by inspiring him with earthly thoughts alone ; do not oppress his heart,
by depriving him of noble and elevated sentiments — by leaving him no tasta
for any but material enjoyments. If religious thoughts lead him to an austera
life — if the inclination to sacrifice the pleasures of this life on the altar of thi

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 14U

God ivhom he adores takes possession of his heart — why should you hinder
aim ? What right have you to despise a feeling which certainly requires greater
strength of mind than is necessary for abandoning one's self to pleasure ?

These considerations, which affect both sexes, have still greater force when
they are applied to the female. With her lively imagination, her feeling heart,
and ardent mind, she has greater need than man of serious inspiration, of grave,
solemn thoughts, to counterbalance the activity with which she flies from object
to object, receiving with extreme facility impressions of every thing she touches,
and, like a magnetic agent, communicating them in her turn to all that sur
rounds her. Allow, then, a portion of that sex to devote itself to a life of con
templation and austerity ; allow young girls and matrons to have always before
their eyes a model of all the virtues — a sublime type of their noblest ornament,
which is modesty. This will certainly not be without utility. Be assured, these
virgins are not taken away from their families, nor from society — both wilj
recover with usury what you imagine they have lost.

In fact, who can measure the salutary influence which the sacred ceremonies
with which the Catholic Church celebrates the consecration of a virgin to God,
must have exercised on female morals ! Who can calculate the holy thoughts,
the chaste inspirations which have gone forth from those silent abodes of modesty,
erected sometimes in solitary places, and sometimes in crowded cities ! Do you
not believe that the virgin whose heart begins to be agitated by an ardent pas
sion, that the matron who has allowed dangerous feelings to enter her soul, have
not often found their passions restrained by the remembrance of a sister, a rela
tive, a friend, who, in one of these silent abodes, raises her pure heart to
Heaven, offering as a holocaust to the Divine Son of the blessed Virgin all the
enchantments of youth and beauty ? All this cannot be calculated, it is true ;
but this, at least, is certain, that no thought of levity, no inclination to sensu
ality has arisen therefrom. All this cannot be estimated ; but can we estimate
the salutary influence exercised by the morning dew upon plants ? can we esti
mate the vivifying effect of light upon nature ? and can we understand how the
water which filters through the bowels of the earth fertilizes it by producing
fruits and flowers ?

There is, then, an infinity of causes of which we cannot deny the existence
and the power, but which it is nevertheless impossible to submit to rigorous
examination. The cause of the impotence of every work exclusively emanat
ing from the mind of man is, that his mind is incapable of embracing the ensem
ble of the relations which exi^t in facts of this kind ; it is impossible for him
to appreciate properly the indirect influences — sometimes hidden, sometimes
imperceptible — which act there with an infinite delicacy. This is the reason why
time dispels so many illusions, belies so many prognostics, proves the weakness
of what was reckoned strong, and the strength of what was considered weak,
indeed, time brings tp light a thousand relations, the existence of which was
aot suspected? and puts into action a thousand causes which were either unknown
or despised : the results advance in their development, appearing every day in
a more evident manner, until at length we find ourselves in such a situation
chat we can no longer shut our eyes to the evidence of facts, or any longer evade
cheir force.

One of the greatest mistakes made by the opponents of Catholicity is this.
They can only see things under one aspect ; they do not understand how a force
can act otherwise than in a straight line ; they do not see that the moral world,
as well as the physical, is composed of relations infinitely varied, and of indi
rect influences, sometimes acting with more force than if they were direct. All
form a system correlative and harmonious, the parts of which it is necessary to
avoid separating, more than is absolutely needful for becoming acquainted with
the hidden and delicate ties which connect the whole. It is necessary, more

• 2

150 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

over, to allow for the action of time, that indispensable element in all complete
ievelop.nent, in every lasting work.

T trust I sLall be pardoned for this short digression, necessary for the incul
cation of the great truths which have not been sufficiently attended to in exa
mining the great institutions founded by Catholicity. Philosophy is now com
pelled to withdraw propositions advanced too boldly, and to modify principles
applied too generally. It would have avoided this trouble and mortification bj
being cautious and circumspect in its investigations. In league with Protest
antism, it declared deadly war against the great Catholic institutions; it loudly
appealed against moral and religious centralization. And now a unanimous
shout is raised from all quarters of the world in favour of the principle of unity
The instinct of nations seeks for it; philosophers examine the secrets of science
to discover it. Vain efforts ! No other foundation can be established than
that which is already laid ; duration depends upon solidity.

CHAPTER XXVII.

OF CHIVALRY AND BARBARIAN MANNERS, IN THEIR INFLUENCE ON THE

CONDITION OF WOMEN.

AN indefatigable zeal for the sanctity of marriage, and an anxious solicitude
to carry the principle of modesty to the highest degree of delicacy, are the two
rules which have guided Catholicity in her efforts for the elevation of woman.
These are the two great means she has employed in attaining her object, and
hence comes the influence and importance of women in Europe. M. Guizot is,
therefore, wrong in saying that " it is to the development, to the necessary pre
ponderance of domestic manners in the feudal system, that this change, this
improvement in their condition is chiefly owing." I will not discuss the greater
or less influence of the feudal system on the development of European man
ners. Undoubtedly when the feudal lord " shall have his wife, his children,
and scarcely any others in his house, they alone will form his permanent so
ciety ; they alone will share his interests, his destiny. It is impossible for
domestic influence not to acquire great power." (Le^on 4.) But if the lord,
returning to his castle, found one wife there, and not many, to what was that
owing ? Who forbade him to abuse his power by turning his house into a
harem ? Who bridled his passions and prevented his making victims of his
timid vassals ? Surely these were the doctrine's and morals introduced into
Europe, and deeply rooted there by the Catholic Church ; it was the strict laws
which she imposed as a barrier to the invasions of the passions ; therefore, even
if we suppose that feudality did produce this good, it is still owing to the
Catholic Church.

That which has no doubt tended to exaggerate the influence of feudality in
all that raises and ennobles women, is a fact that appears very evidently at that
period, and is dazzling at first sight. This is the brilliant spirit of chivalry
which, rising out of the bosom of the feudal system, and rapidly diffusing itself
produced the most heroic actions, gave birth to a literature rich in imaginatio .
and feeling, and contributed in great measure to soften and humanize the savage
manners of the feudal lords. This period is particularly distinguished for the
spirit of gallantry; not the gallantry which consists generally in the teuder
-elations of the two sexes, but a greatly exaggerated gallantry on the part of
xnan, combining, in a remarkable way, the most heroic courage with the most
lively faith and the most ardent religion. God and his lady; such is the con-
Btant thought of the knight; this absorbs all his faculties, occupies all his time,
tnd fills up all his existence. As long as he can obtain a victory over th>? \\sf

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

iels, and is supported by the hope of offering at the feet of his lady the tro
phies of his triumph, no sacrifice costs him any thing, no journey fatigues, no
danger affrights, no enterprise discourages him. His excited imagination trans
ports him into a world of fancy ; his heart is on fire ; he undertakes all, he
finishes all; and the man who has just fought like a lion on the plains of Spain,
or of Palestine, melts like wax at the name of the idol of his heart ; then he
turns his eyes amorously towards his country, and is intoxicated with the idea
that one day, sighing under the castle of his beloved, he may obtain a pledge
of her affection, or a promise of love. Woe to any one who is bold enough to
dispute his treasure, or indiscreet enough to fix his eyes on those battlements.
The lioness who has been robbed of her cubs is not more terrible, the forest torn
to pieces by the hurricane is not more agitated than his heart ; nothing can
stop his vengeance, he must destroy his rival or die. In examining this mix
ture of mildness and ferocity, of religion and passion, which, no doubt, has been
exaggerated by the fancies of chroniclers and troubadours, but which must have
had a real type, we shall observe that it was very natural at that time, and that
it is not so contradictory as it appears at first sight. Indeed, nothing was more
natura.1 than violent passions among men whose ancestors, not long before, had
come from the forests of the north to pitch their bloody tents on the site of
ruined cities ; nothing was more natural than that there should be no other
judge than strength of arm among men whose only profession was war, and
who lived in an embryo society, where there was no public law strong enough
to restrain private passions. Nothing, too, was more natural to those men than
a lively sense of religion, for religion was the only power which they acknow
ledged ; she had enchanted their imaginations by the splendour and magnifi
cence of her temples, by the majesty and pomp of her worship. She had filled
them with astonishment, by placing before their eyes the most sublime virtue,
by addressing theni in language as lofty as it was sweet and insinuating ; lan
guage, no doubt, imperfectly understood by them, but which, nevertheless, con
vinced them of the holiness and divinity of the Christian mysteries and pre
cepts, inspired them with respect and admiration, and also exercising a powerful
influence on their minds, enkindled enthusiasm and produced heroism. Thus
we see that all that was good in this exalted sentiment emanated from religion;
if we take away faith, we shall find nothing but the barbarian, who knew no
other law than his spear, and no other rule of conduct than the inspirations of
his fiery soul.

The more we penetrate into the spirit of chivalry and examine in particular
the feelings which it professed towards women, the more we shall see that,
instead of raising them, it supposes them already raised and surrounded by
respect. Chivalry does not give a new place to women ; it finds them already
honoured and respected ; and indeed, if it were not so, how could it imagine a
gallantry so exaggerated, so fantastical ? But if we imagine to ourselves the beauty
of "a virgin covered by the veil of Christian modesty; if we imagine this charm in
creased by illusion, we shall then understand the madness of the knight. If we
imagine, at the same time, the virtuous matron, the companion of man, the mother
of a family, the only woman in whom were concentrated all the affections of hus
band arid children, the Christian wife, we shall understand why the knight was
intoxicated at the mere idea of obtaining so much happiness, why his love was
more than a sensual feeling, it was a respect, a veneration, a worship.

It has been attempted to find the origin of this kind of worship in the man
ners of the Germans ; on the strength of some expressions of Tacitus, the
social amelioration of woman's lot has been attributed to the respect with which
the barbarians surrounded her. M. Guizot rejects this assertion, and justly
combats it by observing that what Tacitus tells us of the Germans was not ex
clusively applicable to them, since " phrases similar to those of Tacitus, and

I 52 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

sentiments and customs analogous to those of the ancient Germans, are m<*
with in the statements of many observers of savage or barbarous nations."
Yet in spite of this wise remark, the same opinion has been maintained : it ii
necessary, then, to combat it again.

The passage of Tacitus is this : " Inesse quin etiam sanctum aliquid et provi-
dum putant, nee aut consilia eorum aspernantur, aut responsa negligunt. Vidi
mus sub Divo Vespasiano Velledam diu apud plerosque numinis locd habitare."
(De Mor. Germ.) " They go so far as to think that there is in women some
thing holy and prophetical ; they do not despise their counsels, and they
listen to their pred; ;. In the time of the divine Vespasian, we have seen
the greater part of . >r a long time regard Velleda as a goddess." It seems

to me that it is mista-.^ the passage of Tacitus, to extend its meaning to do
mestic manners, and to see in it a trait of married life. If we attend to the
historian's words, we shall see that such an explanation is far from his idea.
His words only relate to the superstition which made the people attribute to
some women the prophetic character. Even the example chosen by Tacitus
serves to show the truth and justness of this observation. " Velleda," he says,
" was regarded as a goddess." In another part of his works, Tacitus explains
his idea by telling us, of this same Velleda, " that this girl of the nation of
Bructeres enjoyed great power, owing to an ancient custom among the Ger
mans, which made them look upon many women as prophetesses, and, in fine,
with the progress of superstition, as real divinities." " Ea virgo nationis Bruc-
terae late imperitabat, vetere apud Germanos more quo plerasque foeminarum
fatidicas et augescente superstitione arbitrantur deas." (Hist. 4.) The text
which I have just quoted proves to demonstration that Tacitus speaks of super
stition and not of family regulations, very different things; as it might easily
happen that some women were regarded as divinities, while the rest of their sex
only occupied a place in society inferior to that which belonged to them. At
Athens, great importance was given to the priestesses of Ceres; at Rome to the
Vestals, the Pythonesses ; and the history of the Sibyls shows that it was not
peculiar to the Germans to attribute the prophetical character to women. It is
not for me now to explain the cause of these facts ; it is enough for my pur
pose to state them ; perhaps, on this point, physiology might throw light on the
philosophy of history.

When Tacitus, in the same work, describes the severity of the manners of the
Germans with respect to marriage, it is easy to observe that the order of super
stition and the order of the family were among them very different. We have
no longer here any thing of the sanctum et providum ; we find only a jealous
austerity in maintaining the line of duty ; and we see woman, instead of being
regarded as a goddess, given up to the vengeance of the husband, if she has
been unfaithful. This curious passage proves that the power of man over
woman was not much limited by the customs of the Germans. a Accisis crini-
bus," says Tacitus, " nudatam coram propinquis expellit domo maritus, ac pfcr
omnem vicum verbere agit." "After having cut off her hair, the husland
drives her from his house in presence of her relations, and beats her with rods
ignominiously through the village." Certainly this punishment gives us an
idea of the infamy which was attached to adultery among the Germans; but it
was little calculated to increase the respect entertained for them publicly ; this
would have been greater had they been stoned to death.

When we read in Tacitus the description of the social state of the Germans,
wo must not forget *hat some traits of their manners are purposely embellished
by him, which is veiy natural for a writer of his sentiments We must not
forget that Tacitus was indignant and afflicted at the sight of the fearful cor
ruption of manners at that time in Rome. He paints, it is true, in glowing
colours, the sanctity of marriage among the Germans ; but who does Dot sr«

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 15£

Jiat, when doing so, he had before his eyes matrons who, according to Seneca,
reckoned their years not by the succession of consuls^ but by change of hus
bands, and women without a shadow of modesty, given up to the greatest pro
fligacy ? We can easily see to whom he alludes when he makes these severe
remarks : " Nemo enim illic vitia ridet, nee corrumpere et corrumpi saeculum
vocatur." " There vice is not laughed at, and corruption is not called the
fashion." A strong expression, which describes the age, and explains to us tlie
secret joy with which Tacitus cast in the face of Rome, so refined and so cor
rupted, the pure image of German manners. That which sharpened the rail
lery of Juvenal and evenomed his bitter satires, excited the indignation of Ta-
citud, and drew from his grave philosophy these severe reprimands. Other in
formation which we possess shows us that the pictures of Tacitus are embellished,
and that the manners of this people were far from being as pure as he wishes
to persuade us. Perhaps they may have been strict with respect to marriage ;
but it is certain that polygamy was not unknown among them. Caesar, an eye
witness, relates, that the German king Ariovistus had two wives (de Bello Gal-
lico, 1. i.); and this was not a solitary instance, 'for Tacitus himself tells us that
a few of them had several wives at once, not on account of sensuality, but for
distinction. " Exceptis admodum paucis, qui non libidine, sed ob nobilitatem,
pluribus nuptiis ainbiuntur." This distinction, non libidine sed ob nobilitatem,
is amusing ; but it is clear that the kings and nobles, under one pretence or
another, allowed themselves greater liberty than the severe historian would
have approved of.

Who can tell what was the state of morality among those forests ? If we
may be allowed to conjecture by analogy, from the resemblance which may
naturally be supposed to exist among the different nations of the North, what
an idea might we conceive of it from certain customs of the Britons, who, in
bodies of ten or twelve, had their wives in common; chiefly brothers with
brothers, and fathers with sons; so that they were compelled to distinguish the
families conventionally, by giving the children to him who had first married
the woman ' Tt is from Cassar, an eye-witness, that we also learn this : " Uxores
habent (Britanni) deni duodenique inter se communes, et maxime fratres cum
fratribus et parentes cum liberis; sed si qui sunt ex his nati, eoruni habeutur
liberi a quibus priinum virgines quseque ductae sunt." (~De Bello Galileo, 1. v.)

However this may have been, it is at least certain that the principle of mono
gamy was not so much respected among the Germans as people have been will
ing to suppose ; an exception was made in favour of the nobles, that is, of the
powerful ; and that was enough to deprive the principle of all its force, and to
prepare its ruin. In such a matter, to establish an exception to the law in
favour of the powerful, is almost to abrogate it. It may be said, I admit, that
the powerful will never want means of violating it; but it is one thing for
the powerful to violate the law, and another for the law itself to retire before
them, leaving the way open : in the first case, the employment of force does
not destroy tfce law — the very shock which breaks it, makes its existence felt,
and visibly shows the wrong and injustice; in the second case, the law prosti
tutes itself, if I may so speak ; the passions have no need of force to opeu for
themselves a passage, the law itself opens the door for them. From that time
it remains degraded and disgraced ; its own baseness has undermined the moral
principle on which it was founded ; and, owing to its own fault, it becomes itself
the subject of animadversion to those who are still compelled to observe it.
Thus the right of polygamy, once recognised among the Germans in favour of
the great, must, with time, have become general among the other classes of the
people ; and it is very probable that this was the case when the conquest )f
more productive countries, the enjoyment of more genial climates, and some
improvement in their social condition furnished them more abundantly with
20

154 I'ROrESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the means of gratifying their inclinations. An evil so great could only 1)-.- with
stood by the inflexible severity of the Catholic Church. Nobles and kings still
had a strong inclination towards the privileges which we have seen their prcdc.
cessors enjoying before they embraced the Christian religion. Thence it came
that, in the first centuries after the irruption of the barbarians, the Church had
so much trouble in restraining their violent inclinations. Would not those who
have endeavored to find among the Germans so large a portion of the constitu
tive elements of modern civilization have shown more wisdom, if they had
recognised, in the manners which we have been examining, one of the causes
which made the struggles between the secular princes and the Church so frequent?

I do not see why we should seek in the forests of the barbarians for the origin
of one of the finest attributes of our civilization, or why we should give to those
nations virtues of which they showed so little evidence when they invaded the
countries of the south.

Without monuments, without history — almost without any index as to their
social condition — it is difficult, not to say impossible, to know any thing certain
with respect to their manners; .but I ask, what must have been their morality,
in the midst of such ignorance, such superstition, and such barbarism ?

The little that we know about these nations has been necessarily taken from
the Roman historians ; and unfortunately this is not one of the purest sources.
It almost always happens that observers, especially when they are conquerors,
only give some slight notions with regard to the political state of a people, and
are almost silent as to their social and domestic condition. In order to form an
idea of this part of the condition of a nation, it is necessary to mingle with
them, and be intimate with them ; now this is generally prevented by their dif
ferent states of civilization, especially when the observers and the observed are
exasperated against each other by long years of war and slaughter. Add to
this, that, in such cases, the attention is particularly attracted by what favors
or opposes the designs of the conquerors, who for the most part attach no great
importance to moral subjects; this will show us how it is that nations who are
observed in this way are only superficially known, and why such statements
with respect to religion and manners are unworthy of much confidence.

The reader will judge whether these reflections are out of place in estimating
the value of what the Romans have told us about the state of the barbarians
Et is enough to fix our eyes on the scenes of blood and horror prevailing for
centuries, which show us, on the one hand, the ambition of Rome, which, not
content with the empire of the theu known world, wished to extend its power
over the most distant forests of the North ; and, on the other, the indomitable
spirit of barbarian independence, breaking in pieces the chains which were
attempted to be imposed upon them, and destroying, by their bold incursions,
the ramparts which the skill of the Roman generals labored to raise against
them. See, then, what we ought to think of barbarian society, as described by
Roman historians. What shall we think, if we consult the few traits which the
barbarians themselves have left us, of their manners and maxims with respect
to their social condition ? It is always risking much to seek in barbarism for
the origin of one of the most beautiful results of civilization, and to attribute
to vague and superstitious feelings what, during centuries, forms the normal
state of the most advanced nations. If these noble sentiments, which are
represented to us as emanating from the barbarians, really existed among them,
how did they avoid perishing in the midst of their migrations and revolutions ?
How did they alone remain, when every thing relating to the social condition
of the barbarians disappeared ?

These sentiments would not have been preserved in a stationary state, but
we should have seen them stripped of their superstition and grossness, purified,
snnobled, and made reasonable, just, salutary, chivalrous, and worthv of civ'

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 155

fized nations. Such assertions have, from the first siglit> the character of bold
paradoxes. Certainly, when we have to explain great phenomena in the_ social
order, it is rather more philosophical to seek for their origin in ideas which for
a long time have exercised a powerful influence on society, in manners and insti
tutions emanating from them,, in laws, in fine, which have been recognised and
respected for many centuries as established by Divine power.

Why, then, attempt to explain the respect in which women are held in Eu
rope, by the superstitious veneration which barbarous nations offered in their
forests to Velleda, Aurinia, and Gauna ? Reason and good sense tell us that
the real origin of this wonderful phenomenon is not to be found there, and that
we must seek elsewhere for the causes which have contributed to produce it.
History reveals to us these causes, and renders them palpable to us, by showing
us facts which leave no doubt as to the source whence this powerful and salutary
influence emanated. Before Christianity, woman, "oppressed by the tyranny of
man, was scarcely raised above the rank of slavery; her weakness condemned
her to be the victim of the strong. The Christian religion, by its doctrines of
fraternity in Jesus Christ, and equality before God, destroys the evil in its root,
by teaching man that woman ought not to be his slave, but his companion
From that moment the amelioration of woman's lot was felt wherever Chris
tianity was spread ; and woman, as far as the degradation of ancient manners
allowed, began to gather the fruit of a doctrine which was to make a complete
change in her condition, by giving her a new existence. This is one of the
principal causes of the amelioration of woman's lot : a sensible, palpable cause,
which is easily shown without making any gratuitous supposition, a cause
which is not founded on conjecture, but which appears evident on the first
o-lance at the most notorious facts of history.

Moreover, Catholicity, by the severity of its morality, by the lofty protection
which it affords to the delicate feeling of modesty, corrected and purified man
ners ; thus it very much elevated woman, whose dignity is incompatible with
corruption and licentiousness. In fine, Catholicity itself, or the Catholic Church,
(and observe, I do not say Christianity,) by its firmness in establishing and pro-
serving monogamy and the indissolubility of the marriage tie, restrained the
caprices of man, and made him concentrate his affections on one \fife, who could
not be divorced. Thus woman passed from a state of slavery to that of the
companion of man. The instrument of pleasure was changed into the mother
of a family, respected by her children and servants. Thus was created in the
family identity of interests; thus was guarantied the education of children,
which produced the close intimacy which among us unites husband and wife,
parents and children. The atrocious right of life and death was destroyed; the
father had not even the right to inflict punishments too severe ; and all this
admirable system was strengthened by ties strong but mild, was based on the
principles of sound morality, sustained by prevailing manners, guarantied and
protected by the laws, fortified by reciprocal interests, sanctioned by time, and
endeared by We. This is the truly satisfactory explanation of the enigma;
this is the origin of the honor and dignity of woman in Europe ; thence we
have derived the organization of the family, — an inestimable benefit which
Europeans possess without appreciating it, without being sufficiently acquainted
with it, and watching over its preservation as they ought.

In treating of this important matter, I have purposely distinguished between
Christianity and Catholicity, in order to avoid a confusion in words, which
would have entailed a confusion in things. In reality, the true, the only Chris
tianity is Catholicity; but, unfortunately, we cannot now employ these words
indiscriminately, not only on account of Protestantism, but also on account ^of
the monstrous philosophico-Christian nomenclature which ranks Christianity
unong philosophical sects, as if it were nothing more than a system imagined

156 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

by man. As the principle of charity plays a great part wherever the religioi
of Jesus Christ is found, and as this principle is evident even to the eyes of the
incredulous, philosophers who have wished to persevere in their incredulity
without incurring the scandalous epithet of disciples of Voltaire, have adopted
the words fraternity and humanit}T, to make them the theme of their instruc-
tions ; they have consented to give to Christianity the chief glory of originat
ing its sublime ideas and generous sentiments : thus they appear not to contra*
diet the history of the past as the philosophy of the age gone by in its madness
did ; but they pretend to accommodate all to the present time, and prepare the
way for a greater and happier future. For these philosophers Christianity is
not a divine religion ; by no means. With them it is an idea, fortunate, mag-
nifieent, and fruitful in grand results, but purely human; it is the result of long
and painful human labors. Polytheism, Judaism, the philosophy of the East,
of Egypt, of Greece, were all preparatory to that great work. Jesus Christ,
according to them, only moulded into form an idea which was in embryo in the
bosom of humanity. He fixed and developed it, and, by reducing it to practice,
made the human race to take a step of great importance in the path of progress
into which it has entered. But, He is always, in the eyes of these philosophers,
nothing more than a philosopher of Judea, as Socrates was of Greece, and
Seneca of Rome. Still we should rejoice that they grant to Him this human
existence, and do not transform Him into a mythological being, by considering
the Gospel narrative as a mere allegory.

Thus, at the present time, it is of the first importance to distinguish between
Christianity and Catholicity, whenever we have to bring to light and present to
the gratitude of mankind the unspeakable benefits for which they are indebted
to the Christian religion. It is necessary to show that what has regenerated the
world was not an idea thrown at hazard among all those who have straggled for
preference and pre-eminence ; but that it was a collection of truths sent from
Heaven, transmitted to the human race by a God made Man, by means of a
society formed and authorized by Himself, in order to perpetuate to the end of
time the work which His word had established, which His miracles had sanc
tioned, and which He had sealed with His blood. It is consequently necessary
to exhibit this* society, that is, the Catholic Church, realizing in her laws and
institutions the inspirations and instructions of her Divine Master, and accom
plishing the lofty mission of leading men towards eternal happiness, while ame
liorating their condition here below, and consoling them in this land of misfor
tune. In this way we form a correct idea of Christianity, if we may so speak,
or rather we show it as it really is, not as men vainly represent it. And observe,
that we ought never to fear for the truth, when the facts of history are fully
and searcliingly examined. If in the vast field into which our investigations
lead us, we sometimes find ourselves in obscurity, walking for a long time in
dark vaults which the rays of the sun do not visit, and where the soil under
our feet threatens to swallow us up, let us fear nothing, let us advance with
courage and confidence; amid the darkest windings we shall discover at a dis
tance the light that shines upon the end of our journey; we shall see truth
seated on the threshold, placidly smiling at our terrors and anxieties.

To philosophers, as well as to Protestants, we would say, if Christianity
were not realized in a visible society, always in contact with man, and provided
with the authority necessary for teaching and guiding him, it would be only a
theory, like all others that have been and still are seen on the earth; conse
quently it would be either altogether sterile, or at least unable to produce any
of those great works which endure unimpaired for ages. Now one of these is
undoubtedly Christian marriage, and the family organization which has been ita
immediate consequence. It would have been vain to advance notions favorable
to ihf dignity of woman and tending to improve her let, if the sanctity of mar-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 157

ringe had not.bten guarantied' by a power generally acknowledged and revered
That power is continually struggling against the passions which labor to over
come it; what would have happened if they had had to c ntend with no othei
obstacle than a philosophic theory, or a religious idea without reality in society,
and without power to obtain submission and obedience ?

We have, then, no need of recurring to that extravagant philosophy which
seeks for light in the midst of darkness, and which, on seeing order arise out of
chaos, has conceived the singular notion of affirming that it was produced by it.
If we find in the doctrines, in the laws of the Catholic Church the origin of the
sanctity of marriage and the dignity of woman, why should we seek for it in
the manners of brutal barbarians, who had no veil for modesty and the privacy
of the nuptial couch? Let us hear Caesar speaking of the Germans: "Nulla
est oecultatio, quod et promiscui in fluminibus perluuntur, et pellibus aut
rhenorum tegumentis utuntur, magna cerporis parte nuda." (De Bella
Gall 1. vi.)

I have been obliged to oppose authority to authority; I was under the necess
sity of destroying the fantastical systems into which men have been seduced by
an over love of subtilty, by the mania of finding extraordinary causes for phe
nomena, the origin of which may easily be discovered when we have recourse,
in good faith and sincerity, to the concurring instructions of philosophy and
history. It was highly necessary, in order to clear up one of the most delicate
questions in the history of the human race, and to find the source of one of the
most fruitful elements of European civilization. My task was nothing less than
to explain the organization of families, that is, to fix one of the poles on which
the axis of society turns.

Let Protestantism boast of having introduced divorce, of having deprived
marriage of the beautiful and sublime character of a sacrament, of having with
drawn from the care and protection of the Church the most important act of
human life; let it rejoice in having destroyed the sacred asylums of virgins
consecrated to God; let it declaim against the most angelic and heroic virtue;
let us, after having defended the doctrine and conduct of the Catholic Church
at the tribunal of philosophy and history, conclude by appealing to the judg
ment, -not indeed of high philosophy, but of good sense and feeling. (18")

CHAPTER XXVIII.

OF THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE IN GENERAL.

WHEN enumerating, in the twentieth chapter, the characteristics which mark
European civilization, I pointed out, as one of them, "an admirable public
conscience, rich in sublime maxims of morality, in rules of justice and equity,
in sentiments of honor and dignity, a conscience which survives the shipwreck
of private morality, and does not allow the open corruption to go so far s^ it
did in ancient times." We must now explain more at length in what this
public conscience consists, what is its origin, what are its results, showing at
the same time what share Catholicity and Protestantism have had in its forma
tion This delicate and important question is, I will venture to say, untouched;
at least I do not know that it has yet been attempted. Men constantly speak
of the excellence of Christian morality, and on this point all the sects, all the
schools of Europe are agreed; but they do not pay sufficient attention to the
way in which that morality has become predominant, by first destroying Pagan
corruption, then by maintaining itself for centuries in spite of the ravages of
infidelity, so as to form an admirable public conscience ; a benefit which we
NOW enjoy without appreciating it as we ought, and without even thinking of it

0

158 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

In order fully to comprehend this matter, it is above all necessary to form a
clear idea of what is meant by conscience. Conscience in the general, or rather
idealogical sense of the word, means the knowledge which each man has of his
own acts. Thus we say that the soul is conscious of its thoughts, of the acts
of its will, and of its sensations ; so that the word conscience, taken in this
sense, expresses a perception of what we do and feel. Applied to the moral
order, this word signifies the judgment which we ourselves form of our actions
as good or evil. Thus, when we are about to perform an action, conscience
points it out to us as good or bad, and consequently lawful or unlawful ; and it
thue directs our conduct. The action being performed, it tells us whether we
have done well or ill, it excuses or condemns us, it rewards us with peace of
mind, or punishes us with remorse.

This explanation being given, we shall easily understand what is meant by
public conscience ; it is nothing but the judgment formed of their actions by
the generality of men. It results from this that, like private conscience, the
public conscience may be right or wrong, strict or relaxed ; and that there must
be differences on this point among societies of men, the same as there are
among individuals ; that is to say, that, as in the same society we find men
whose consciences are more or less right or wrong, more or less strict or
relaxed, we must also find societies superior to others in the justice of the
judgment which they form on actions, and in the delicacy of their moral appre
ciation.

If we observe closely, we shall see that individual conscience is the result of
widely different causes. It is an error to suppose that conscience resides solely
in the intelligence ; it is also rooted in the heart. It is a judgment, it is true ;
but we judge of things in a very different way according to the manner in
which we feel them. Add to this, that the feelings have an immense influence
on moral ideas and actions ; the result is, that conscience is formed under th^
influence of all the causes which forcibly act on our hearts. Communicate to
two children the same moral principles, by teaching them from the same book
and under the same master ; but suppose that one in his own family sees what
he is taught constantly practised, while the other sees there nothing but
indifference to it ; suppose, moreover, that these two children grow up with
the same moral and religious conviction, so that as far as the intellect is con
cerned there is no difference between them ; nevertheless, do you believe that
their judgment of the morality of actions will be the same? By no means;
and why ? Because the one has only convictions, while the other has also feel
ings. In the one, the doctrine enlightens the mind; while, in the other,
example engraves it constantly on the heart. Thus what one regards with
indifference, the other looks upon with horror; what the one does with negli
gence, the other performs with the greatest care; and the same subject that to
one is of slight interest, is to the other of the highest importance.

Public conscience, which, in fact, is the sum of private consciences, is subject
to the same influences as they are ; so that mere instruction is not enough for
it, and it requires the concurrence of other causes to act on the heart, as well as
the mind. When we compare Christian with pagan society, we instantly see
that the former must 1x3 infinitely superior to the latter on this point; not only
oil account of the purity of its morality, and the strength of the principles and
motives sanctioning it, but also because it follows the wise course of continually
inculcating this morality, and impressing it strongly on the mind by constant
repetition. By this constant repetition of the same truths, Christianity has
done what other religions never could do; none of them, indeed, have ever suc
ceeded in organizing and putting into practice so important a system. But I
uave said enough on this point in the fourteenth chapter; it is useless to repeal-
it hero; I pass on to some observations on the public conscience in Europe.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 156

1*. cannot be denied that, generally speaking, reason and justice prevail in that
public conscience. If you examine laws and actions, you will not find those
shocking acts of injustice or those revolting immoralities which are to be met
with among other nations. There are certainly evils, and very grave ones, but
they are at least acknowledged, and called by their right names. We do not
hear good called evil, or evil good ; that is to say, society, in certain things, is
like those persons of good principles and bad morals who are the first to acknow
ledge that their conduct is blamable, and that their words and deeds contradict
each other. We often lament the corruption of morals, the profligacy of our
(arge towns ; but what is all the corruption and profligacy of modern society
compared with the debauchery of the ancients ? It certainly cannot be denied
that there 'is a fearful extent of dissoluteness in some of the capitals of Europe.
The records of the police, as well as those of the benevolent establishments
where the fruits of crime are received, show shocking demoralization. In the
highest classes dreadful ravages are caused by conjugal infidelity, and all sorts
of dissipation and disorder ; yet these excesses are very far from reaching the
extent which they did among the best-governed nations of antiquity, the Greeks
and Romans. So that our society, which we so bitterly lament, would have ap
peared to them a model of modesty and decorum. Need we call to mind the
infamous vices then so common and so public, and which have scarcely a name
among us now, whether it be because they are so rarely committed, or because
the fear of public conscience forces them to hide themselves in the dark places,
and, so to speak, in the bowels of the earth ? Need we recall to mind the infa
mies which stain the writings of the ancients as often as they describe the man
ners of their times ? Names illustrious in science and in arms have passed down
to posterity with stains so black that we cannot consent to describe them. Now,
how corrupt must have been the state of the other classes, when such degra
dation was attributed to men who, by their elevated positions or other circum
stances, were the lights of society !

You talk of the avarice which is so prevalent now-a-days ; but look at the
usurers of antiquity who sucked the blood of the people everywhere ; read the
satirical poets, and you will see what was the state of manners on this point ;
consult, in fine, the annals of the Church, and you will see what pains she took
to diminish the eifects of this vice ; read the history of ancient Rome, and you
will find the cursed thirst for gold, and lenders without mercy, who, after having
impudently robbed, carried in triumph the fruits of their rapine to live with
scandalous ostentation, and buy votes again to raise them to command. No, in
European civilization, among nations taught and elevated by Christianity, such
evils would not be long tolerated. If we suppose administrative disorder, tyranny,
and corruption of morals carried as far as you please, still public opinion would
raise its voice and frown on the oppressors. Partial injustice may be committed,
but rapine will never be formed into a shameless system, or be regarded as the
rule of government. Rely upon it, the words justice, morality, humanity, which
constantly resound in our midst, are not vain words ; this language produces
great results'; it destroys immense evils. These ideas impregnate the atmo
sphere we breathe ; they frequently restrain the arm of criminals, and resist with
incredible force materialistic and utilitarian doctrines ; they continue to exert an
incalculable influence on society. We have among us a feeling of morality
which mollifies and governs all • which is so powerful that vice is compelled to
assume the appearance of virtue, and cover itself with many veils, in order t<r
escape becoming the subject of public execration.

Modern society, it would seem, ought to have inherited the corruption of the
old, since it was formed out of its ruins, at a time when its morals were most
dissolute. We must observe, that the irruption of the barbarians, far from im
proving society, ccntributed, on the contrary, to make it worse; and this, »nt

160 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

only on account of the corruption belonging to their fierce and brutal manner^
but also on account of the disorder introduced among the rations they invaded,
hy violating laws, throwing their manners and customs into confusion, and de
stroying all authority. Whence it follows, that the improvement of public
opinion among modern nations is a very singular fact ; and that this progress
can only be attributed to the influence of the active and energetic principle which
has existed in the bosom of Europe for so many centuries.

Let us observe the conduct of the Church on this point — i* is perhaps one of
the most important facts in the history of the middle ages. Imagine an age
when corruption and injustice most unblushingly raised thei- heads, and you
will see that, however impure and disgusting the fact may be, the law is always
pure ; that is to say, that reason and justice always found some one to proclaim
them, even when they appeared to be listened to by nobody. Tb<* state of igno
rance was the darkest, licentious passions were uncontrolled ; bu+ the instruc
tions and admonitions of the Ch'irch were never wanting ; it is thu* tfiat, amidst
the darkest night, the lighthouse shines from afar, to guide the mariners in
safety.

When in reading the history of the Church we see on all sides •vasembled
councils proclaiming the principles of the gospel morality, while at e^ery stef
we meet with the most scandalous proceedings; when we constantly hear incnl
cated the laws which are so often trodden under foot, it is natural to ark, o/
what use was all this, and of what benefit were instructions thus unheeded 1*
Let us not believe that these proclamations were useless, nor lose courage if we
have to wait long for their fruits.

A principle which is proclaimed for a long time in society will in the end
acquire influence ; if it is true, and consequently contains an element of life, it
will prevail in the end over all that opposes it, and will rule over all around it.
Allow, then, the truth to speak — allow it to protest continually ; this will pre
vent the prescription of vice. Thus vice will preserve its proper name ; arid
you will prevent misguided men from deifying their passions, and placing them
on their altars after having adored them in their hearts. Be confident that this
protest will not be useless. Truth in the end will be victorious and triumphant;
for the protests of truth are the voice of God condemning the usurpations of His
creatures. This is what really happened ; Christian morality, first contending
with the corrupt manners of the empire, and afterwards with the brutality of
the barbarians, had for centuries rude shocks to sustain ; but at last it triumphed
over all, and succeeded in governing legislation and public morals. We do not
mean to say that it succeeded in raising law and morals to the degree of per
fection which the purity of the gospel morality required, but at least it did
away the most shocking injustice ; it banished the most savage customs ; it
restrained the license of the most shameless manners; it everywhere gave vice
its proper name ; it painted it in its real colors, and prevented its being deified
as impudently as it was among the ancients. In modern times, it has had to
contend against the school which proclaims that private interest is the only prin
ciple of morals ; it has not been able, it is true, to prevent this fatal doctrine
from causing great evils, but at least it has sensibly diminished them. Unhappy
for the world will be the day when men shall say without disguise, "My own
advantage is my virtue ; my honor is what is useful to myself; all is good or
evil, according as it is pleasing or displeaainy to me" Unhappy for the world
will be the day when such language will no longer be repudiated by public con
science. The opportunity now presenting itself, and wishing to explain so im
portant a matter as fully as possible, Twill make some observations on an ^p'li^D
of Montesquieu respecting the censors of Greece and Rome. This digression
wijl not be foreign to the purpost .

CHAPTER XXIX.

OF THE PRINCIPLE OP PUBLIC CONSCIENCE ACCORDING TO MONTESQUIEU —

HONOR — VIRTUE.

MONTESQUIEU has said that republics are preserved by virtue, and monar
chies bv honor. He observes, moreover, that honor renders the censors, who irero
required among the ancients, unnecessary among us. True it is, that in mo
dern times there are no censors charged with watching over the public morals ;
but the cause of this is not as stated by this famous publicist. Among Chris
tian nations, the ministers of religion are the natural censors of public morals
The plenitude of this office belongs to the Church, with this difference, that the
censorial power of the ancients was purely civil, while that of the Church is a
religious power, which has its origin and sanction in divine authority. The
religion of Greece and Rome neither did, nor could, exercise this censorial
power over morals. To be convinced of this, it is enough to read the passage
from St. Augustine, quoted in the fourteenth chapter — a passage so interesting
on this matter, that I will venture to ask the reader to peruse it again. This is
the reason why we find among the Greeks and Romans censors who are not seen
among Christian nations. These censors were an addition to the Pagan reli
gion, the impotence of which they clearly showed — a religion which was mis
tress of society, and yet could not fulfil one of the first duties of all religions —
that of watching over the public morals. What I assert is so perfectly true,
that in proportion as the influence of religion and the ascendency of its minis
ters have been lowered among modern nations, the ancient censors have reap
peared in some sort in the institution of police. When moral means are want
ing, it is necessary to have recourse to physical ones; violence is substituted
for persuasion, and instead of a zealous and charitable missionary, delinquents
fall into the hands of the ministers of public justice.

Much has been already written of the system of Montesquieu, with respect
to the principles on which the different forms of government are based; but
perhaps sufficient attention has not been paid to the phenomenon which has
served to mislead him. As this question is intimately connected with the point
which T have just touched upon, in relation to the existence of the censorial
authority, I shall explain myself at some length. In the time of Montesquieu,
the Christian religion was not so fully understood as it now is with respect to
its social importance ; and although on this point the author of the Esjrrit dtk
Lois has done homage to her, it is well to remember what were his antichris-
tian prejudices during his youth, and also that this work is still far from ren
dering to the true religion what is due to her. The ideas of an irreligious phi
losophy which, some years later, misled so many fine intellects, had begun at
that time to gain the ascendant, and Montesquieu had not sufficient strength ot
mind to make a decided opposition to the prejudices which threatened universal
dominion, To this cause we must add another, which, although distinct from
the last, yet had the same origin, viz. a prejudice in favor of all that was old,
and a blind admiration for every thing Roman or Grecian. It seemed to the
philosophers of that time, that social and political perfection had reached their
greatest height among the ancients, that there was nothing to be added to or
taken from it, and that even in religion the fables and festivals of antiquity
ffere a thousand times preferable to the faith and worship of the Christian reli
gion. In the eyes of the new philosophers, the heaven of the Apocalypse could
not sustain a comparison with that of the Elysian fields ; the majesty of Jcho-
rah was inferior to that of Jupiter; all the loftiest Christian institut:~ '" "
a legacy of ignorance and fanaticism ; the most holy and beneficent
were the work of tortuous and interested views — the vehicle and

21 o2

lt>2 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

sordid interests ; public authority was only an atrocious tyranny ; and the
noble just, and salutary institutions were those of Paganism. There every
thing was wise, and evinced profound designs highly advantageous to society ;
Ihe ancients alone had enjoyed social advantages, and had succeeded in organiz
ing public authority, with guarantees for the liberty of citizens. Modern nations
should bitterly lament not being able to mingle in the agitation of xthe forum
being deprived of such orators as Demosthenes and Cicero, — having no Olym
pic games, or contests of athletas ; in fine, they must always regret a religion
which, although full of illusion and falsehood, gave to all nature a dramatic
interest, gave life to fountains, rivers, cascades, and seas, peopled the fields, the
meadows, and the woods with beautiful nymphs, gave to man gods as {he com
panions of his hearth, and above all, knew how to render life pleasant and
charming, by giving full scope to all the passions, and deifying them under the
most enchanting forms.

How, in the midst of such prejudices, was it possible to discover the truth
m modern institutions ? Every thing was in the most deplorable state of con
fusion ; all that was established was condemned without appeal, and every one
who attempted to defend it was considered a fool or a knave. Religion and poli
tical constitutions, which seemed destined soon to disappear, could reckon on
no other support than the prejudices or the interests of governments. Lament
able aberration of the human mind ! What would these writers now say if they
3ould arise from their tombs ? And yet a century has not yet elapsed since
the epoch when their school began to acquire its influence. They have, for a
long time, ruled the world at their pleasure ; and they have only shed torrents
jf blood, heaping lesson upon lesson, and deception upon deception, in the history
of humanity.

But let us return to Montesquieu. This publicist, who was so much affected
oy the atmosphere in which he lived, and who had no small share in perverting
;he age, saw the facts which are here so apparent ; he recognised the results of
Jiat public opinion which has been created among European nations by the in
fluence of Christianity. But while observing the effects, he did not ascertain
the real causes, and labored in every way to accommodate them to his own sys
tem. In comparing ancient with modern society, he discovered between them
a remarkable difference in the conduct of men; he observed that we see accom-
olished among us the noblest and most heroic actions, while we avoid a great
part of the vices which defile the ancients ; but, on the other hand, Montesquieu,
like others, could not help seeing that men among us have not always that
high moral aim which oughb to be the motive of their laudable conduct. Ava
rice, ambition, love of pleasure, and other passions, stil] reign in the world, and
are easily discovered everywhere. Still these passions do not reach the excess
they did among the ancients ; there is a mysterious power which restrains them ;
before giving way to their impulses, they throw a cautious glance around them,
arid do not indulge in certain excesses unless they are sure of being able to d<.
so in secret. They have great dread of being seen by man ; they can only live
in solitude and darkness. The author of the Esprit des Lois asked himself
what is the cause of this phenomenon. Men, he said to himself, often act, not
from moral virtue, but from respect for the judgment which other men will pass
upon their actions ; this is to act from honor. Now, this is the case in France
and in the other monarchies of Europe ; it must be, therefore, the distinctive
characteristic of monarchical governments ; it must be the base of that form of
government, the distinction between a republic and despotism. Let us hear tiie
author himself: "Dans quel governement/' says he, "faut il des censeurs? II
en faut dans une re"publique, ou le principe du governement est la vertu. Ce ne
sont pas seulement les crimes qui detruisent la vertu, mais encore les negli
gences, les fautes, une cp~taine tie\leur dans 1' amour de la patrie, des exemoles

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 168

dangoreux, des semences de corruption ; ce qui ne choque point les lois, mais
les elude; ce qui ne les d4truit pus, mais les affaiblit. Tout cela doit etre cor-
rige" par les censeurs. * * * Dans les monarchies il ne faut point de cen
seurs, elles sont fondles sur 1'honneur ; et la nature de 1'honneur est d'avoir pour
censeur tout 1'univers. Tout homnie qui y manque est soumis aux reproches
de ceux memes qui n'en ont point." (De V Exprit des Lois, liv. v. chap. 19.)
Such is the opinion of this publicist. But if we reflect on the matter, we shall see
that he was wrong in transferring to politics, and explaining by simply political
causes, a fact purely social. Montesquieu points out, as the distinguishing charac
teristic of monarchies, what is the general characteristic of all modern European
society ; he seems not to have understood why the institution of censors was not
necessary in Europe, any more than he did the real reason why they were required
among the ancients. Monarchical forms have not exclusively prevailed in Europe
Powerful republics have existed there ; and there are still some not to be despised
Monarchy itself has undergone numerous modifications ; it has been allied some
times with democracy, sometimes with aristocracy ; sometimes its power has been
very limited, and sometimes it has been unbounded ; and yet we always find this
restraint which Montesquieu speaks of, and which he calls honor; that is, a
powerful influence stimulating to good deeds and deterring from bad, and all
this from respect for the judgments which other men will pass.

"Dans les monarchies," says Montesquieu, "il ne faut point de censeurs, elles
sont fondees sur 1'honneur; et la nature de 1'honneur est d'avoir pour censeur
tout 1'univers;" remarkable words, which reveal to us the ideas of the writer,
and at the same time show us the origin of his mistake. They will assist us in
solving the enigma. In order to explain this point as fully as the importance
of the subject requires, and with as much clearness as the multitude and intri
cacy of its relations demand, I shall endeavour to convey my ideas with as
much precision as possible.

Respect for the judgment of others is a feeling innate in man; consequently
it is in his nature to do or avoid many things on account of this judgment. All
this is founded on the simple fact of self-love : this is nothing but love of our
own good fame, the desire of appearing to advantage, and the fear of appearing
to disadvantage, iii the eyes of our fellows. These things are so simple and clear,
that they do not require or even admit of proofs or comments. Honor is a stimu
lant more or less active, or a restraint more or less powerful, according to the de
gree of severity which we expect in the judgments of others. Thus it is that the
miser, when among the generous, makes an effort to appear liberal'; the prodigal
restrains himself in the presence of the lovers of strict economy ; in meetings where
decorum generally reigns we see that even libertines control themselves, while men
whose manners are usually correct allow themselves certain freedoms in licen
tious societies. Now the society in which we live is, as it were, one vast com
pany. If we know that strict principles prevail there, if we hear everywhere
proclaimed the rules of sound morality, if we think that the generality of the
men with whom we live give the right name to every action, without allowing
the irregularity of their conduct to falsify their judgment, we see ourselves
surrounded on all sides by witnesses and judges who cannot be corrupted; and
this checks us at every step when we wish to do evil, and urges us on when we
wish to do good. It will be far otherwise if we have reason to expect indul
gence from the society in which we move. In this case, and supposing us all
to entertain the same convictions, vice will not appear to us so horrible, crime
so detestable, or corruption so disgusting ; our ideas with regard to the morality
of our couduct will be very different, and in the end our actions will show the
fatal influence of the atmosphere in which we live. It follows from this, that,
in order to infuse into our hearts a feeling of honor strong enough to produce
good, it is necessary that principles of sound morality should regulate society

164 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

and that they should be generally and fully believed. This being gi anted
social habits will be formed, which will regulate manners; and even if thesf
habits do not succeed in hindering the corruption of a great number of indivi
duals, they will, nevertheless, be sufficient to compel vice to adopt certain dis
guises, which, although hypocritical, will not fail to add to the decorum of man
ners. The salutary effects of these habits will still continue after the faith on
which their moral principles are based has been considerably weakened, and
society will still gather in abundance the beneficent fruits of the despised or
forgotten tree. This is the history of the morality of modern nations : although
lamentably corrupt, they are still not so bad as the ancients. They preserve in
their legislation, and in their morals, a fund of morality and dignity which the
ravages of irreligion have not been able to destroy. Public opinion nevei dies;
every day it censures vice, and extols the beauty and advantages of virtue ; it
reigns over governments and nations, and exercises the powerful ascendency of
an element which is found universally diffused.

" Outre PAre"opage," says Montesquieu, " il y avait a Atheries des gar-
diens des mceurs et des gardiens des lois. A Lace'de'mone, tous les vieil-
lards etaient censeurs. A Rome, deux magistrats particuliers avaient la cen
sure. Comme le Senat veille sur le peuple, il faut que des censeurs aient les
yeux sur le peuple et sur le Senat. II faut qu'ils r&ablissent dans la republique
tout ce qui a 6t4 corrumpu, qu'ils notent la ti&leur, jugent les negligences,
et corrigent les fautes, comme les lois punissent les crimes." (D<- I' 'Esprit des
Lois, liv. v. chap. 7.) In describing the duties of the censors of antiquity, the
author seems to state the functions of religious authority. To penetrate where
the civil laws do not extend ; to correct, and in some measure to chastise, what
they leave unpunished ; to exercise over society an influence more delicate and
minute than that which belongs to legislation, — such are the objects of the
censorial power ; and who does not see that that power has been replaced by
religious authority ? and that if the former has been unnecessary among modern
nations, it is owing to the existence of the latter, or to the influence which it
has exercised for many centuries ?

It cannot be denied that religious authority has for a long time gained a
decided ascendency over men's minds and hearts; this fact is written in every
page of the history of Europe. As to the results of that influence, so calum
niated and ill understood, we meet with them everyday, — \v«; who seethe prin
ciples of justice and sound morality still reigning over public conscience, in
spite of the ravages which irreligion and immorality have committed among
individuals.

The powerful influence of public conscience will be best explained by some
examples. Let us suppose that the richest of nobles, or the most powerful of
rnonarchs, indulged in the abominable excesses of a Tiberius, a Nero, or the
other monsters who disgraced the imperial throne, what would happen ? We
will not predict ; but we are confident that the universal shout of indignation
and horror would be so loud, and the monster would be so crushed under the
load of public execration, that it appears to us impossible for him to exist. It
seems to us an anachronism, an impossibility at this time. Even if we admit
that there might be men immoral enough to commit such enormities, sufficiently
perverted in mind and heart to exhibit such depravity, we see that it would be
an outrage against universal morals, and that such a spectacle could not stand
for a moment in presence of public opinion. I could draw numberless con
trasts, but I shall content myself with one, which, while it reminds us of a fine
trait in ancient history, exhibits, with the virtue of a hero, the manners of the
time and the melancholy condition of the public conscience. Let us suppose that
a general of modern Europe captures by assault a town in which a distinguished
lady, the wife of one of the principal leaders of the enemy, falls into the hands

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 165

of the soldiers. The beautiful prisoner is brought to the general; what
should be his conduct ? Every one will immediately say, that she ought
to be treated with the most delicate attention, that she ought to be imme
diately set at liberty and allowed to rejoin her husband. Such conduct
appears to us so strictly obligatory, so much according to the order of things,
and so conformable to our ideas and sentiments, that there certainly does
not appear to us to be any peculiar merit in adopting it. We should say
that the general had performed a strict and sacred duty, which he could not
evade without covering himself with shame and ignominy. We certainly
should not immortalize such an action in history; we should allow it to pass-
unnoticed in the ordinary course of events. Now, this is what Scipio did with
respect to the wife of Mardonius at the taking of Carthageua; and ancient
history records this generosity as an eternal monument of his virtues. This
parallel explains better than any commentary the immense progress of morality
and public conscience under the influence of Christianity. Now, such conduct,
which among us is considered as simple, natural, and strictly obligatory, does
not flow from the honor belonging to monarchies, as Montesquieu asserts, but
from more lofty notions of human dignity, from a clearer knowledge of the true
state of society, from a morality the purer and more powerful because it is esta
blished on eternal foundations. This, indeed, is found and felt everywhere, it
governs the good and is respected even by the bad; this is what would stop the
licentious man, who, in a case of this sort, would be inclined to indulge his
cruelty or his other passions. The author of the Esprit des Lois would doubt
less have perceived these truths if he had not been prejudiced by the favorite
distinction established at the beginning of his work, and which throughout
bound him to an inflexible system. We know what a preconceived system is —
one that serves as the mould for a work. Like the bed of Procrustus, ideas and
facts, right or wrong, are accommodated to the system ; what is too much is
taken away, and what is wanting is added. Thus Montesquieu finds in political
motives, founded on the republican form of government, the reason for the
power exercised over Roman women by their husbands. The cruel rights
given to fathers over their children, the unlimited paternal power established
by the Roman laws, also appeared to him to flow from political causes, as if it
were not evident that these two regulations of the ancient Roman law were
owing to causes purely domestic and social, altogether independent of the form
of government. (19)

CHAPTER XXX.

ON THE DIFFERENT INFLUENCE OF PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICITY ON
THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE. ^

WE have defined the nature of public conscience ; we have pointed out its
origin and effects. It now remains to examine whether Protestantism has had
any share in forming it, and whether it is fairly entitled to the glory of having
been of any service to European civilization on this point. We have already
shown that the origin of this public conscience is to be found in Christianity.
Now Christianity may be considered under two aspects — as a doctrine, and as
an institution intended to Realize that doctrine ; that is to say, Christian moral
ity may be considered in itself, or as taught and inculcated by the Church. To
form the public conscience, and make Christian morality regulate it, it was not
enough to announce this doctiine; there was still required a society, not only
to preserve it in all its purity, that it might be transmitted from generation tc
generation, but to preach it jncnssantly to man, and apply it continually to al1

fft6 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the acts of Jfe. We must observe that ideas, however powerful they m«t* be

have only •» precarious existence until they are realized, and become embodied,
as it were in an institution which, while it is animated, moved, and guided by
them, sei es them as a rampart against the attacks of other ideas and other
interests Man is formed of body and soul ; the whole world is a collection of
spiritual nd corporeal beings — a system of moral and physical relations ; thus
it is tha all ideas, even the greatest and the loftiest, begin to fall into oblivion
when they have no outward expression — no organ by which they make them
selves heard and respected. They are then confounded and overwhelmed amid
. the confusion of the world, and in the end disappear altogether. Therefore, all
ideas that are to have a lasting influence on society, necessarily tend to ereate
an institution to represent them, in which they may be personified; not satisfied
with addressing themselves to the mind, and with descending to practice by
indirect means, they seek to give form to matter, they present themselves to the
eyes of humanity in a palpable manner. These observations, which I submit
with confidence to the judgment of sensible men, contain a condemnation of the
Piotestant system. So far from the pretended Reformation being able to claim
any part in the salutary events which we are explaining, we should rather say
that, by its principles and conduct, it would have been an obstacle in their way,
if, as was happily the case, Europe had not been of adult age in the sixteenth
century, and consequently almost incapable of losing the doctrines feelino-s
habits, and tendencies which the Catholic Church had communicated to it during
an education of so many centuries. Indeed, the first thing that Protestantism
did was to attack authority, not by a mere act of resistance, but by proclaiming
resistance to be a real right, by establishing private judgment as a dogma. From
that moment Christian morality remained without support, for there was no
longer a society which could claim the right of explaining and teachin^ it •
that is to say, it was reduced to the level of those ideas which, not being repre
sented or supported by an institution, and not having any authorized organ to
explain them, possessed no direct means of acting on society, and had no means
of protection when attacked.

But I shall be told that Protestantism has preserved the institution which
realizes this idea; for it has preserved its ministers, worship, and preachin^—
in a word, all that truth requires in dealing with man.

I will not deny that there is some truth in this, and I will repeat what I have
not hesitated to affirm in the fourteenth chapter of this work, « That we ought
to regard it as a great good, that the first Protestants, in spite of their desire to
upset all the practices of the Church, have yet preserved that of preaching " I
added in the same place : « It is not necessary to deny on this account the evils
produced at certain times by the declamation of some ministers, either furious
or fanatical ; but as unity was broken, and as the people had- been hurried into
the perilous path of schism, we say that it must have been very conducive to
the preservation of the most important ideas concerning God and man and the
fundamental maxims of morality, for such truths to be frequently explained to

ie people by men who had long studied them in the Holy Scriptures " I repeat
here what I there said: preaching practised among Protestants must have had
very good effects; but this only amounts to saying, that it did not do so much
mischief as was to be feared from its own principles. On this point they were
like men of immoral opinions, who are not so bad as -they would be were their
hearts m accordance with their minds : they had thd good fortune to be incon-
Protestantism had proclaimed the abolition of authority, and the ri"ht
of private judgment without limit; but in practice it did not quite act up"5 to
these doctrines. Thus, it devoted itself with ardor to what it called gospel
preaching, and its ministers were called gospellers. So that, at the very time

len theyjust established the principle that every individual had the free right

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 167

of priTate judgment, and ought to be guided by reason or private inspiration
alone, without listening to any external authority, Protestant ministers were seen
spreading themselves everywhere, and claiming to be the legitimate organs of
the divine word.

The better to understand the strange nature of such a doctrine, we must re-
taember the maxims of Luther with respect to the priesthood. We know^that
this heresiarch, embarrassed by the hierarchy which constitutes the ministry
of the Church, pretended to overturn it at one blow, by maintaining that all
Christians are priests, and that, to exercise the sacred ministry, a simple ap
pointment is necessary, which adds nothing essential or characteristic to the
quality of priests, which is the universal patrimony of all Christians. It follows
from this doctrine, that the Protestant preacher wanting a mission is not distin
guished from other Christians by any characteristic ; he cannot, consequently,
speak to them with any authority; he is not allowed, like Jesus Christ, to speak
quasi potcstatcm halens (as having authority); he is nothing more than an oratoi
who addresses the people with no other right than what he derives from his
education, knowledge, or eloquence.

This preaching without authority, which, in reality and according to the
preacher's own principles, was only human, although it committed the glaring
inconsistency of pretending to be divine, may, no doubt, have contributed some-
thing to the preservation of good moral principles when they were already
everywhere established ; but it would certainly have been unable to establish
them in a society where they were unknown, especially if it had had to struggle
with other principles directly opposed to it, and supported by ancient prejudices,
by deeply rooted passions, and by strong interests.

Yes, we repeat it, this preaching would have been unable to introduce its
principles into such a society; unable to preserve them in safety amid the most
alarming revolutions and the most unexampled catastrophes ; unable to impart
them to barbarous nations, who, proud of their triumph, listened to no other
voice than that of their ferocious instinct ; unable to make the conquerors and
.the conquered bow before these principles, to mould the most different nations
into one people, by stamping on their laws, institutions, and manners the same
seal, in order to form from them that admirable society, that assemblage of
nations, or rather that one great nation, which is called Europe. In a word.
Protestantism, from its very constitution, would have been incapable of realizing
what the Catholic Church has done.

Moreover, this attempted preaching preserved by Protestantism is, at bottom,
an effort to imitate the Church, that it may not remain unarmed in the presence
of so redoubtable an adversary. It required a means of influencing the people,
— a channel open to communicate, at the will of each usurper of religious
authority, different interpretations of the Bible; this is the reason why. in spite
of violent declamation against all that emanated from the chair of St. Peter, it
preserved the valuable practice of preaching.

But the tbest way to feel the inferiority of Protestantism in regard to the
knowledge 'and comprehension of the means proper to extend and strengthen
morality, and make it prevail in all the acts of life, is to observe, that it has
interrupted all communication between the conscience of the faithful and ^the
direction of the priest; it only leaves to the latter a general direction, which,
owing to its being extended over all at the same time, is exerted with effect over
none. If we confine ourselves to the consideration of the abolition of the sacra
ment of Penance among Protestants, we may rest assured that they have thereby
given up one of the most legitimate, powerful, and gentle means of rendering
human conduct conformable to the principles of sound morality. Its action is
legitimate; for nothing can be more legitimate than direct and intimate com
munication between the conscience of man who is to be judged by God, anJ th*

£ PROTESTANTISM COMPARED KITH CATHOLICITY

eonscieme of the man who represents God on earth; — an action which ii
powerful, because this intimate communication, established between man and
man, between soul and soul, identifies, as it were, the thoughts and affections ;
because, in the presence of God alone, to the exclusion of every other witness,
admonitions have more force, precepts more authority, and advice more unction
and sweetness to penetrate into the inmost soul; — an action full of gentleness,
for it supposes the voluntary manifestation of the conscience which seeks

strictest secrecy; all imaginable precautions have been taken by the Church to
prevent a betrayal, and man may rest with tranquillity in the assurance that
the secrets of his conscience will never be revealed.

But you will ask me, do you believe all this is necessary to establish and pre-
, serve a good state of morality ? If morality is to be any thing more than a
mere worldly probity, which is exposed to destruction at the first shock of
interest, or easily seduced by the passions ; if it is to be a morality delicate,
strict, and profound, extending over all the acts of life, guiding and ruling the
heart of man, and transforming it into that beau itUcd which we admire in Ca
tholics who are really devoted to the observances and practices of their religion;
if this is the morality which you mean, it is necessary, undoubtedly, &that!
placed under the inspection of religious authority, it should be directed and
guided by a minister of the sanctuary, by a faithful communication of the secrets
of our hearts and the numberless temptations which continually assail our weak
nature. This is the doctrine of the Catholic Church ; and I will add, that it is
pointed out^by experience and taught by philosophy. I do not mean to say,
that Catholics alone are capable of performing virtuous actions ; this would be
to contradict the experience of every day. I only wish to prove the efficacy of
a Catholic institution which is despised by Protestants. I speak of the great
influence which this institution has in infusing into our hearts, and preserving
hi them, a morality which is cordial, constant, and applicable to all the acts of '
our souls.

No doubt, there is in man a monstrous mixture of good and evil ; I know
that it is not given him to attain in this life to that ineffable degree of perfec
tion which consists in a perfect con/ormity with Divine truth and holiness _ a
perfection which he will not be able even to conceive until the moment when,
stripped of his mortal body, he will be plunged into the pure ocean of light and
love. But we cannot be permitted to doubt that man, in this earthly abode, in
the laud of misery and darkness, can, nevertheless, attain to the universal,
delicate, and profound state of morality which I have just described; and,
however much the present corruption of the world may be a too legitimate sub
jcct of affliction, it must be allowed that we still find, in our own days, a con
siderable number of honorable exceptions in the multitude of persons who
conform to the strict rule of gospel morality in their conduct, their wishes, and
even in their thoughts and inmost affections. To attain to this degree of
morality (and observe, I do not say of evangelical perfection, but of mere
morality), it is necessary that the religious principle should be visibly present
to the eyes of the soul, that it should act continually upon her, urging on or
restraining her in an infinite variety of circumstances which, in the course of
life, occur to mislead from the path of duty. , The life of man is, as it were, a
chain composed of an infinite variety of acts, which cannot be constantly in
accordance with reason and the eternal law, unless it remains constantly in the
hacds of a fixed and universal regulator. And let it not be said that such a
state of morality is a lean idtal, the existence of which would bring such con
fusion into the acts of the soul, and complication of the whole life, as in the

FROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 161

end to make it insupportable. No, this is not a mere fancy; it ie a reality
which is frequently seen by our eyes, not only in the cloister and the sanctuary,
but amid the confusion and distractions of the world. That which establishes a
fixed rule cannot bring confusion into the acts of the soul, or complicate the
affairs of life. Quite the contrary; instead of confusion, it serves to distinguish
and illuminate; instead of complicating, it puts in order and simplifies. Esta
blish this rule, and you will have unity; and with unity general order.

Catholicity is always distinguished by its extreme vigilance with respect to
morality, by its care in regulating all the acts of life, and even the most secret
movements of the heart. Superficial observers have declaimed against the
prolixity of moralists — against the minute and detailed study which they make
of human actions considered under a moral aspect; they should have observed,
that if Catholicity is the religion in the bosom of which has appeared so great a
number of moralists, by whom all human actions have been examined in the
greatest detail, it is because this religion has for its object to moralize for the
whole man, as it were, in all his relations with GTod, with his neighbor, and
with himself. It is clear that such an enterprise requires a more profound and
attentive examination than would be necessary, if it had only to give to man an
imperfect morality, stopping at the surface of actions, and not penetrating to
the bottom of the heart. With respect to Catholic moralists, and without
attempting to excuse the excess into which some among them have fallen,
either by too great subtility, or by a spirit of party and dispute (excesses which
cannot be imputed to the Catholic Church, since she has testified her displeasure
when she has not expressly condemned them), it must be observed, that this
abundance, this superfluity, if you will, of moral studies, has contributed more
than people think to direct minds to the intimate study of man, by furnishing a
multitude of facts and observations to those who have subsequently wished to
devote themselves to this important science. Now, can there be a more worthy
or more useful object for our labors? In another part of this work, I propose
to develope the relations of Catholicity with the progress of science and litera
ture; I shall not, therefore, enter more fully on the matter now. Still I may
be allowed briefly to observe, that the development and education of the human
mind have been principally theological ; and that on this point, as well as on
many others, philosophers are more indebted to theologians than they seem to
imagine.

Let us return to the comparison of the Protestant and Catholic influence on
the formation and preservation of a sound public conscience. We have showed
that Catholicity, having constantly maintained the principle of authority which
Protestantism rejects, has given to moral ideas a force and influence which Pro
testantism could not. Protestantism, indeed, by its nature and fundamental
principles, has never given to these ideas any other support than they might
have derived from a school of philosophy. But you will perhaps ask me, do
you not acknowledge the force of these ideas ; a force peculiar to them, and
inherent in Jtheir nature, and which frequently changes the face of the world, by
deciding its doctrines ? Do you not know that they always, in the end, force a
passage, in spite of every obstacle, and of all resistance ? Have you forgotten
the teaching of all history ; and do you pretend to deprive human thought of
that vital, creative force, which renders man superior to all that surrounds him ?
Such is the common panegyric on the strength of ideas ; thus we see them
transformed every moment into all-powerful beings, whose magical wand iy
capable of changing every thing at their pleasure.

However this may be, I am full of respect for human thought, and allow

that there is much truth in what is called the force of an idea ; yet I must beg

leave to oifer a few observations to these enthusiasts, not directly to combat their

opinion, but to make some necessary modifications. In the first place, ido.is, in

22 P

170 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY1.

the point of view in which we are now considering them, must be divided intc
two orders; some flattering our passions, the others checking them. It cannot
be denied that the former have an immense expansive force. They have a
motion of their own ; they act in all places ; they exert a rapid, violent power ,
one would say that they overflow with life and activity. The latter have great
difficulty in making their way ; they advance slowly, they cannot pursue their
career without an institution to secure their stability. And why ? Because it
is not the ideas themselves which act in the former case, but the passions which
accompany them, and assume their names ; thus masking what is repulsive in
them at first sight. In the latter case, on the contrary, it is the truth that
speaks. Now, in this land of misfortune, the truth is but little attended to ; for
it leads to good ; and the heart of man, as the Scripture says, is inclined to evil
from his youth. Those who vaunt so much the native force of ideas, should
point out to us, in ancient or modern history, one idea which, without going out
of its own circle, that of the purely philosophical order, is entitled to the glory
of having materially contributed to the amelioration of individuals and society.
It is commonly said that the force of ideas is immense ; that once shown
among men, they will fructify sooner or later; that once deposited in the bosom
of humanity, they will remain there as a precious legacy, and contribute won
derfully to the improvement of the world, to the perfection towards which the
human race advances. No doubt these assertions contain some truth ; as mat)
is an intelligent being, all that immediately affects his mind must certainly
influence his destiny. Thus no great change is worked in society without being
first realized in the order of ideas ; all that is established contrary to our ideas,
or without them, must be weak and passing. But it is by no means to be sup
posed that .every useful idea contains in itself a conservative force capable of
dispensing with all institutions ; that is to say, with support and defence,
even during times of social disorder : between these two propositions there is a
gulf which cannot be closed without contradicting all history. Now humanity,
considered by itself, and given up to its own strength, as it appears to philoso
phers, is not so safe a depositary as people wish to suppose. Unhappily we
have melancholy proofs of this truth : we see too clearly that the human race,
far from being a faithful trustee, has but too much imitated the conduct of a
foolish spendthrift. In the cradle of the human race, we find great ideas on the
unity of God, on man, on relations of man with God and their fellow-men.
These ideas were certainly true, salutary, and fruitful : and yet, what did man
do with them ? Did he not lose them by modifying, mutilating, and distorting
them in the most deplorable way ? Where were they when Jesus Christ came
into the world ? What had humanity done with them ? One nation alone
preserved them ; but in what way ? Fix your attention on the chosen people,
the Jews, and you will see that there was a continual struggle between truth
and error ; you will see that, by an inconceivable blindness, they incessantly
inclined to idolatry ; they had a constant tendency to substitute the abominations
of the Gentiles for the sublime law of Mount Sinai. And do you know how the
truth was preserved among this people? Observe it well; it was supported by
the strongest institutions that can be imagined ; it was armed with all the meana
of defence witL which an inspired legislator could surround it. It will, be said
that they were a hard-hearted nation, in the language of the Scriptures ; unhap
pily, since the fall of our first parent, this hardness of heart is become the patri
mony of humanity ; the heart of man is inclined to evil from his youth ; agea
before the existence of the Jews, God had covered the earth with the waters of
heaven, and had'blotted out man from the face of the world ; for all flesh had cor
rupted its way. We must conclude from this, that the preservation of great moral
ideas requires powerful institutions ; it is evident, therefore, that they cannot be
abandoned to the fickleness of the human mind without being disfigured, or even

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED T^TTH CATHOLICITY. 17"i

lost. I will say, moreover, that institutions arc not only necessary to teach, but
also to apply them. Moral ideas, especially those which openly contradict the
passions, are never reduced to practice without great efforts ; now the ideaa
themselves do not suffice to make these great efforts, and means of action are
required capable of connecting ideas with facts ; this is one of the reasons of the
impotence of philosophical schools when they attempt to construct any thing.
They are often powerful in destroying ; momentary action is enough for this,
and this action may be easily acquired in a moment of enthusiasm. But when
they wish to establish and reduce their conceptions to practice, they are impo
tent; their only resource is what is called the force of ideas. Now, as ideas
constantly vary and change — an inconstancy of which these schools themselves
afford the first example — it happens that what we hear them announce one mo
ment as an infallible means of human progress, is the next reduced to a mere
object of curiosity.

These last observations anticipate the objection that may be urged against us
with respect to the immense force which printing has given to ideas. But this
is so far from being a preserver, that it may be said to be the best destroyer of
all opinions. If we measure the immense orbit which the human mind has
passed through since that important discovery, we shall see that the consum
mation of opinions (if I may be allowed the expression) is increased in a pro
digious degree. The history of the human race, especially since the press has
become periodical, appears to be the representation of a rapid drama, where the
decorations change every moment, where the scenes succeed each other, scarcely
allowing the spectator to catch any of the author's words. Half of this century
has not yet passed away, and already it seems as if many centuries had elapsed,
so great has been the number of schools which have been born and are dead,
of reputations which, after being raised to the highest pitch of renown, have
been soon forgotten. This rapid succession of ideas, so far from contributing to
increase their force, necessarily renders them weak and unproductive. The na
tural order in the progress of ideas is this : at first to make their appearance,
then to be realized in an institution representing them, and in fine to exert theii
influence on facts by means of an institution in which they are personified.
Now, it is necessary that during these transformations, which essentially require
time, ideas should preserve their credit, if they are to produce any favorable
result. But when they succeed each other too rapidly, time is wanting for their
successive transformations ; new ideas strive to discredit the old ones, and con
sequently to render them useless. This is the reason why the strength of ideas,
that is, of philosophy, was never so little to be relied oh as now, to produce
any thing durable and consistent in the moral order : in this respect, the gain to
modern society may well be questioned. More is conceived, but less matured ;
what the mind gains in extent, it loses in depth, and the pretension in theory
makes a sad contrast with the impotence of practice. Of what importance is it
that our predecessors weie not so ready as we are in improvuiny a discussion on
great social and political questions, if they nevertheless organized and founded
such admirable institutions ? The architects who raised the astonishing monu
ments of ages which we call barbarous, were certainly not so learned or so culti
vated as those of our time ; and yet who has the boldness even to commence
what the/ have finished ? Thus it is in the social and political order. Let us
remember that great thoughts are produced rather by intuition than by reason
ing ; in practice, success depends more upon the invaluable quality called tact,
than upon enlightened reflection ; and experience often teaches that he who
knows much, sees little. The genius of Plato would not have been the best
guide for Solon or Lycurgus ; and all the knowledge of Cicero 'would not have
succeeded in doing wnat was done by the tact and good sense < f two unlettered
men like Romulus and Numa. (20)

172
CHAPTER XXXI.

ON GENTLENESS OF MANNERS IN GENERAL.

A CERTAIN general gentleness of manners, which in war prevents great ati c.
cities, and in peace renders life more quiet and agreeable : — such is one of the
valuable qualities which I have pointed out as forming the distinguishing cha
racteristics of European civilization. This is a fact which does not require
proof; we see and feel it everywhere when we look around ; it is evident to all
who open the pages of history, and compare our times with any others. Wherein
does this gentleness of manners in modern times consist ? what is the cause of
it ? what has favoured it ? what has opposed it ? These interesting questions
directly apply to our present subject; for they lead straight to the examination
of other questions, such as the following : has Catholicity contributed in any
way to this gentle-ness of manners ; or, on the other hand, has it opposed or
retarded it? in fine, what part has Protestantism played in the work, for good
or evil ? First of all, we must determine wherein gentleness of manners con
sists. Although we have here to deal with an idea which every one sees, or
rather feels, we must still endeavor to explain and analyze it by a definition as
complete and exact as possible. Gentleness of manners consists in the absence
of force; so that manners will be more or less gentle according as force is less
or more employed. Thus, we must not confound gentle with charitable man
ners ; the latter work good, the former only exclude the idea of force. We
must also distinguish gentle manners from those that are pure, and conformable
to reason and justice. Immorality is often gentle, when, instead of resorting to
force, it makes use of seduction and stratagem. This gentleness of manners
consists in directing the human mind, not by violence which constrains the body,
but by reasons which address themselves to the intellect, or by appeals to the
passions. Thus it is that gentle manners are not always under the influence of
reason ; but their rule is always intellectual, although they are often made the .
slaves of the passions by golden chains of their own formation.

If gentleness of manners consists in not making use, in human transactions,
of other means than those of conviction, persuasion, or seduction, it is clear
that the most advanced society — that is, that in which intelligence has been
most developed — should always participate more or less in this social advan
tage. There the mind rules, because it is strong ; while material force disap
pears, because the body has less strength. Moreover, in societies very much
advanced, where relations and interests are necessarily much multiplied, there
is an indispensable want of means capable of acting in a universal and lasting
manner, and applicable to all the details of life. These means are, unquestion
ably, moral and intellectual : the mind operates without destruction, while force
dashes violently against obstacles, and breaks itself to pieces, if it cannot over
turn them. Thus it is the cause of continual commotions, which cannot subsist
in a society which has numerous and complicated relations, without throwing
into confusion and destroying society itself.

We always observe in young nations a lamentable abuse of force. Nothing
is more natural : the passions ally themselves with force, because they resemble
it ; they are energetical as violence, and rude as its shocks. When society has
reached a great degree of development, the passions are divorced from force, and
become allied with the intelligence ; they cease to be violent, in order to become
artful. In the first case, if it is the people who struggle, they make war on,
they contend with, and destroy each other ; in the second case, they contend
with *.he arms of industry, commerce, and contraband. Governments attack,
in the first case, by arms and invasions ; and in the second by diplomacy. IE

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 173

thu jirst epoch, warriors are every thing ; in the second, they aro nothing j they
have not a very important part to play when negotiation, and not fighting, ia
required. When we look at ancient civilization, we observe a remarkable dif
ference between the character of its manners and the gentleness of ours. Neither
the Greeks nor Romans ever regarded this precious quality in the light in which
we regard it, for the honor of European civilization. Those nations became ener
vated, but they did not become gentle j we may say that their manners were
made effeminate, but they were not softened ; for we see them make use of
force on all occasions, when neither vigor of body nor energy of mind was
required. There is nothing more worthy of observation than this peculiarity of
ancient civilization, especially of that of Rome. Now this phenomenon, which
at first sight appears to us to be very strange, has very deep causes. Besides
the principal of these causes, which is, the want of an element of civilization
such as that which modern nations have had in Christian charity, we shall find
among the ancients, if we descend to the details of their social organization,
certain causes which necessarily hindered this gentleness of manners being
established among them.

In the first case, slavery, one of the constituent elements of their social and
domestic organization, was an eternal obstacle to the introduction of this pre
cious quality. The man who has the power of throwing another to the fishes.
and of punishing with death the crime of breaking a glass; he who during a
feast, to gratify his caprice, can take away the life of one of his brethren ; he
who can rest upon a voluptuous couch, surrounded by the most sumptuous mag
nificence, while he knows that hundreds of men, crowded together in dark vaults,
work incessantly for his cupidity and his pleasures ; he who can hear without
emotion the lamentations of a crowd of unhappy beings imploring a morsel of
bread to pass through the night's misery which is to unite their labors and
fatigues of the evening with those of the morning, such a man may have effe
minate, but he cannot have gentle manners ; his heart may become enervated,
but it will not cease to be cruel. This was precisely the situation of the free
man in ancient society : the organization of which we have just stated the results
was regarded as indispensable ; they could not even conceive the possibility of
any other order of things. What removed this obstacle ? was it not the Catholic
Church, by abolishing slavery, after having ameliorated the cruel lot of slaves ?
Those who revert to the 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th chapters of this work,
with the notes appended to them, will find the truth of this demonstrated by
incontestable reasons and documents.

In the second place, the right of life and death, given by the laws to the
paternal power, introduced into families an element of severity which could not
but produce injurious effects. Happily, the hearts of fathers were continually
contending against the power thus granted by law : but if this feeling did not
prevent some deeds the perusal of which makes us shudder, must we not sup
pose that, in the ordinary course of life, cruel scenes constantly reminded the
members of. families of this atrocious right with which the chief was invested','
Will not he who is possessed of the power of killing with impunity, be fre
quently hurried into acts of cruel despotism? Now this tyrannical extensicu
of the rights of paternal authority, carried far beyond the limits pointed out by
nature, was taken away by the force of laws and manners which were^ UIUCD
aided by the influence of Catholicity (see the 24th chap, of this work). To the
two causes which I have just pointed out, may be added another perfectly analo
gous, viz. the despotism which the husband exercised over his wife, and the
little respect which was paid to her. Public spectacles were, among the Romans,
another element of severity aid cruelty. What could be expested of a people
whose principal amusement is to look coolly upon homicide— w '10 took pleasure

1/ PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

in witnessing :he slaughter in the arena of hundreds }f men fighting againsi
each other, or against wild beasts ?

As a Spaniard, I feel called upon here to insert a paragraph, in reply to the
observations which will be made against me on this point : I allude to the
Spanish bull-fights. I shall naturally be asked, Is it not in a Christian and
Catholic country that the custom of making men fight against animals is pre
served ? The objection, however plausible it may seem, can be answered. In
the first place, to avoid any misunderstanding, I declare that this popular amuse
ment is, in my opinion, barbarous, and ought, if possible, to.be completely
extirpated. But after this full and explicit- avowal, let me be permitted to make
a few observations, to screen the honor of my country. In the first place, it
must be remarked, that there is in the human heart a secret taste for risks and
dangers; in order to make an adventure interesting, it is necessary that the hero
should be encompassed with great and multiplied perils; if a history is to excite
curiosity to a high degree, it must not be an uninterrupted chain of peaceful
and happy events. We wish to find ourselves frequently in the presence of
extraordinary and surprising facts ; and, however unpleasant may be the avowal,
our hearts, while they feel the tenderest compassion for the unfortunate, seem
to require the contemplation of scenes of a more violent and exciting character.
Hence the taste for tragedies: hence the love of scenes in which the actors
incur great risks, in appearance or in reality. It is not my duty here to ex
plain the origin of this phenomenon ; it is enough for me here to point out its
existence — to show foreigners who accuse us of being barbarians, that the taste
Df the Spanish people for bull-fights is only the application to a particular case,
of an inclination inherent everywhere in the heart of man. Those who, with
respect to this custom of the Spanish people, affect so much humanity, would
do well to answer the following questions : To what is owing the pleasure taken
by the multitude in every exhibition, when the actors run any risk in one way
or another? Whence comes it that all would willingly be present at the
bloodiest battle, if they could do so without danger ? Whence comes it that
everywhere an immense multitude assembles to witness the agonies and the last
convulsions of a criminal on the gibbet ? Whence comes it, in fine, that foreign
ers, when at Madrid, render themselves accomplices in the barbarity of Spa
niards by assisting at these bull-fights ? I say this, not in any degree to ex
cuse a custom which appears to me to be unworthy of a civilized people, but to
show that in this point, as well as in almost all that relates to the Spanish peo
ple, there are exaggerations which ought to be reduced within reasonable limits.
Let us add an important observation, which is the best excuse that can be made
for this reprehensible exhibition : instead of fixing our attention on the specta
cle itself, let^us consider the evils that flow from it. Now, I ask, how many
men die in Spain in bull-fights ? The number is extremely small, and alto
gether insignificant in proportion to the frequency of these spectacles; so that
if a comparison were made between the accidents which occur in consequence
of this amusement and those that happen in other sports, such as horse-races
and others of the same kind, we should perhaps find that bull-fights, however
barbarous they may be in themselves, still do not deserve all the anathemas
•with which foreigners have loaded them. To return to our principal object,
ihow, we ask, is it possible to compare an amusement which, perhaps, may not
,eost the life of one man during many years, to those terrible shows in which
death was a ^necessary condition for the pleasure of the spectators? After the
triumph of Trajan over the Dacians, the public games lasted twenty-three days,
and the fearful number of six thousand gladiators was slain. Such were the amuse
ments at Rome, not only of the populace, but of the highest classes ; such were the
horrible spectacles required by a people who added voluptuousness to the most
itrocious cruelty. This is a most convincing proof of what I have said, viz.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 17fc

that manners may be effeminate without being gentle, and that thi. brutality
of unbounded luxury is not inconsistent with the instinct of blood-thirsty
ferocity.

It is impossible that such spectacles should be tolerated among modern na
tions, however corrupt their manners may be. The principle of charity has
extended its empire too universally for such excesses to be renewed. This
charity, it is true, does not induce men to do all the good to each other that
they ought ; but, at least, it prevents their coldly perpetrating evil, and assist
ing quietly at the slaughter of their brethren to gratify the pleasure of the
moment. Christianity, at its birth, cast into society the seed of this aversion
to homicide. Who is not aware of the repugnance of Christians for the shows
of the Gentiles — a repugnance prescribed and kept alive by the admonitions of
the early pastors of the Church ? It was an acknowledged fact, that Christian
charity prohibited the being present at games where homicide formed part of
the spectacle. " As for us," said one of the apologists of the early ages, " we make
little difference between committing murder and seeing it committed. "(21")

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE IMPROVEMENT OF MANNERS BY THE ACTION OF THE CHURCH.

MODERN society ought, it would seem, to be distinguished for severity arid
cruelty, since it was formed from that of the Romans and barbarians, from both
of whom it should have inherited these qualities. Who is not aware of the fierce
manners of the northern barbarians? The historians of that time have left us
statements that make us shudder when we read them. It was believed that the
end of the world was at hand ; and, indeed, it was excusable to consider the last
catastrophe' as near, when sfi many other melancholy ones had already been
heaped upon humanity. The imagination cannot figure to itself what would
have happened to the world at this crisis, if Christianity had not existed. P]ven
supposing that society would have been organized anew under one form or
another, it is certain that private and public relations would have remained in a
state of lamentable disorder, and that legislation would have been unjust and
inhuman. Thus the influence of the Church on civil legislation was an inesti
mable benefit; thus even the power of the clergy in temporal things was one
of the greatest safeguards of the highest interests of society.

Attacks are often made upon this temporal power of the clergy and this in
fluence of the Church in worldly affairs. But, in the first place, it should be
remembered, that this power and influence were brought about by the very
nature of things ; that is to say, they were natural, and, consequently, to assail
them is to declaim in vain against the force of events, of which no man could
hinder tLe realization. This power and influence, besides, were legitimate ; for
when society is in danger, nothing can be more legitimate than that that which
can save it should save it. Now, at the time we speak of, the Church alone
could save society. The Church, which is not an abstract being, but a real and
substantial society, acted upon civil society by real and substantial means. If
the purely material interests of society were in question, the minister of the
Church ought, in some way or other, to take part in the direction of those
interests. These reflections are so natural and simple, that their truth must be
seen by good sense. All those who know any thing of history are now gene
rally agreed on this point ; and if we are not aware how much it generally
costs the human mind to enter upon the path of truth, and, above all, how
much bad faith there has been in the examination of these questions, we
shall have a difficulty in understanding that so much time should have been

176 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

required to bring the world to agree on a thing which is apparent to those
who read history. But let us return to our subject. This extraordinary
mixture of the cruelty of a cultivated but corrupted people with the atrocious
ferocity of a barbarous one, proud of its triumphs, and intoxicated with
blood during long wars, placed in European society a germ of severity and
cruelty which fermented there for ages, and the remains of which we find
at a late period. The precept of Christian charity was in men's heads, but
Roman cruelty and barbarian ferocity still prevailed in their hearts; ideal
were pure and beneficent, since they proceeded from a religion of love, but they
encountered a terrible resistance in the habits, manners, institutions, and laws,
for all these were more or less disfigured by the two mixed principles which I
have just pointed out. If we reflect upon the constant and obstinate struggle
between the Catholic Church and the elements which contended with her, we
shall clearly see that Christian ideas could never have prevailed in legislation
and manners, if Christianity had been a religious idea abandoned to human
caprice, as Protestants imagine ; it was necessary for it to be realized in a pow
erful institution, in a strongly constituted society, such as we find in the Catho
lic Church. In order to give an idea of the efforts made by the Church, I will
point out some of the regulations which she made for the purpose of improving
manners. Private animosities were very violent at the time of which we speak ;
and right was decided by force, and the world was threatened with becoming the
patrimony of the strongest. Public law did not exist, or was hurried away and
confounded by outrages which its feeble hand could never prevent or repress ;
it was altogether powerless in rendering manners pacific, and in subjecting men
to reason and justice. Then we see that the Church, besides the instruction
and the general admonitions inseparable from her sacred mission, adopted at
that time certain measures calculated to restrain the torrent of violence which
ravaged and destroyed every thing. The Council of Aries, celebrated in the
middle of the fifth century, between 443 and 452, ordains, in its 50th canon,
that the Church should be interdicted to those who have public animosities,
until they were reconciled. The Council of Angers, celebrated in 453, pro
scribes, by its 3d canon, acts of violence and mutilation. The Council of Agde,
in Languedoc, celebrated in 506, ordains, in its 31st canon, that enemies who
would not be reconciled should be admonished by the priests, and excommuni
cated if they did not follow their apostolical counsels.

The Franks at that time had the custom of going armed, and they always
entered the churches with their arms. It will be understood that such a custom
must have produced great evils ; the house of prayer was often converted into
an arena of blood and vengeance. In the middle of the seventh century, the
Council of Chalons-sur-Saone, in its 17th canon, pronounces excommunication
against all laymen who excite tumults, or draw their swords to strike any one
in the churches or in their precincts. Thus, we see the prudence and foresight
which dictated the 29th canon of the third Council of Orleans, celebrated in
538, which forbids any one to be present at mass or vespers, armed. It is
curious to observe the uniformity of design and plan pursued by the Church.
In countries the most distant from each other, and at times when communica
tion could not be frequent, we find regulations analogous to those which we
have pointed out. The Council of Lerida, held in 546, ordains, by its 7th
canon, that he who shall have sworn not to be reconciled with his enemy, shall
be deprived of the participation of the body and blood of Jesus Christ until he
has done penance for his oath and been reconciled.

Centuries passed away, acts of violence continued, the precept of fraternal
charity, which obliges us to love even our enemies, always met with open
resistance in the harsh character and fierce passions of the descendants of the
barbarians; but the Church did not cease to preach the divine command; she

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 177

<!ontinually inculcated and labored to render it efficacious by means }f spiritual
penalties. More than four hundred years had elapsed since the celebration of
the Council of Aries, where we have seen the church forbidden to those who
were openly at variance; we then see the Council of Worms, held in 868, pro
nouncing, in its 41st canon, excommunication against enemies who refused to
be reconciled. It will suffice to have some idea of the disorders of that time,
to know whether it was possible to appease the violence of animosities during
this long period. One would fancy that the Church would have been wearied
of inculcating a precept which the unhappy state of circumstances so often
rendered fruitless; but such was not the case: she continued to speak as she
had spoken for ages; she never lost her confidence that her words would pro
duce fruit in the present, and would be productive in the future. Such is her
system ; one would think that she heard these words constantly repeated, " Cry
out, cry out without ceasing; raise thy voice like a trumpet " Tt is then that she
triumphs over all resistance; when she cannot exert her power over the will of a
nation, she makes her voice heard with indefatigable diligence in the sanctuary.
There she assembles seven thousand who have not bent the knee to Baal; and
while she endeavors to confirm them in faith and good works, she protests, in
the name of God, against those who resist the Holy Spirit. Let us imagine
that, amid the dissipation and distraction of a populous city, we enter a sacred
£)lace, where seriousness and moderation reign, in the bosom of silence and
religious retirement; there a minister of the sanctuary, surrounded by a chosen
number of the faithful, utters from time to time some serious and solemn words.
This is the personification of the Church in times disastrous from weakened
faith and corrupted morals. One of the rules of conduct of the Catholic Church
has been, not to bend before the powerful. When she has proclaimed a law,
she has proclaimed it for all, without distinction of rank. In the time of the
power of those petty tyrants, who, under different names, persecuted the people,
!his conduct of the Church contributed in an extraordinary degree to render the
scclesiastical laws popular; for nothing was more likely to make a law tolerable
io the people than to show that it applied to nobles, and even to kings. In the
cimes of which we speak, hatred and violence among plebeians were severely
proscribed; but the same law extended to great men and to royalty. A short
time after the establishment of Christianity in England, we find a very curious
example in that country, applicable to this question. It is nothing less than
excommunication pronounced against three kings in the same year, and in the
same town; all these were compelled by the Councils to do penance for the
crimes which they had committed. The town of LlandafF, in Wales, within the
metropolitan see of Canterbury, witnessed the celebration of three Councils, in
the year 560. In the first, Monric, king of Glamorgan, was excommunicated
for having put to death King Cinetha, although he had sworn the peace on the
sacred relics; in the second, King Morcant was excommunicated for having
put to death Friac, his uncle, in whose favor he had equally sworn the peace ;
in the third, .King Guidnert was excommunicated for having put to death his
brother, the competitor for the throne.

Thus, these barbarian chiefs, just changed into kings, and prone to slaughter,
are compelled to acknowledge the authority of a superior power, and to expiate
by penance the murder of their relatives and the violation of sacred engage
ments; it is useless to point out how much this must have contributed to the
improvement of manners. "It was easy," the enemies of the Church will say
— those who endeavor to lower the merit of her acts — "it was easy to preach
gentleness of manners, to impose the observance of divine precepts on chiefs
whose power was limited, and who had only the name of kings; it was easy to
manage those petty barbarian chiefs, who, rendered fanatical by a religion of
which they understood nothing, humbly bowed before the first priest who ven

178 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

tured to n.erace them on the part of God. But of what importance was that;
What influence could it have on the course of great events? The history of
European civilization presents a vast theatre, where events must be studied OL
a large scale, and where none but the most important scenes exercised any
influence on the spirit of nations." Let us observe, that these petty barbarian
kings were the origin of the principal families which now occupy the most im
portant thrones of the world. To place the germ of real civilization" in their
hearts, was to graft the tree which was one day to overshadow the earth. JBut
without staying to show the futility of such reasoning, and as our opponents
desire great scenes capable of influencing European manners on a large scale,
let us open the history of the Church in the first ages, and we shall soon find a
page which redounds to the eternal honor of Catholicity. The whole of the
known world was subject to an emperor, whose name, then universally vene-
raved, will continue to be respected by the remotest posterity. In an important
city, the rebellious inhabitants put to death the commander of the garrison; the
emperor, transported with anger, orders them to be exterminated. Returning
to himself, he revokes the order; but it was too late, the order was executed,
and thousands of victims had been involved in the horrible carnage; at the
news of this dreadful catastrophe, a bishop quits the court of the emperor,
leaves the city, and writes to him in this grave language: "I dare not ofier the
sacrifice if you attempt to be present at it; the blood of one innocent person
would suffice to forbid me; how much more the massacre of a large number."
The emperor, confident in his power, takes no notice of this) letter, and goes
towards the church. When he arrives at the door, he finds himself in the pre
sence of a venerable man, who, with a grave and st^rn countenance, stops him
and forbids him to enter the church. "Thou hast imitated David in crime,"
he says, "imitate him also in penance." The emperor yields, humbles himself,
and submits to the regulations of the bishop, and religion and humanity gain
an immortal triumph. This unhappy city' was Thessalonica; the emperor was
Theodosius; the prelate was St. Ambrose, Archbishop of Milan.

We find face to face, in this sublime fact, force and justice personified
Justice triumphs over force; but why? Because he who represents justice,
represents it in the name of Heaven ; because the sacred vestments and the
imposing attitude of the man who stops the emperor reminda Theodosius of the
divine mission of the holy bishop, and of the office which he holds in the sacred
ministry. Put a philosopher in the place of the bishop, and tell him to arresi
the proud culprit by an injunction of doing penance, and you will see whether
human wisdom can do as much as the Catholic priest speaking in the name of
God. Put, if you please, a bishop of the Church, who has acknowledged spi
ritual supremacy in the civil power, and you will see whether in his mouth
words have the same effect in obtaining so glorious a triumph. The spirit of
the Church was always the same ; her arms were always directed towards the
same end ; her language was always equally strict, equally strong, whether she
spoke to the llornan plebeian or a barbarian, whether she addressed her admoni
tions to a patrician of the empire or to a noble German. Sne was no more
afraid of the purple of the Caesars than of the frowns of the long-haired kings
The power which she possessed during the middle ages was not exclusively
owing to her having preserved alone the light of science and the principles of
government; but it was also owing to the invincible firmness, which no resist
ance and no attack could destroy. What would Protestantism have effected io
such difficult and dangerous circumstances? Without authority, without a
centre of action, without security for her own faith, without confidence in her
resources, what means would she have had to assist her in restraining the tor
rent of violence — that impetuous torrent, which, after having inundated the
world, was about to destroy the remains of ancient civilization, and opposed t«

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 179

til attempts :it social reorganization an obstacle -almost insurmountable!
Catholicity, with its ardent faith, its powerful authority, its undivided unity,
its well-compacted hierarchy, was able to undertake the lofty enterprise of im
proving manners ; and it brought to the undertaking that constancy which is
inspired by conscious strength, and that boldness which animates a mind secure
of triumph.

We must not, however, imagine that the conduct of the Church, in her mis-
sion of improving manners, always brought her into collision with force. We
also see her employ indirect means, limit her demands to what she could obtain,
and ask for as little, in order to obtain as much as possible. In a capitulary
of Charlemagne, given at Aix-la-Chapelle in 813, and consisting of twenty-six
articles, which are nothing more than a sort of confirmation and r6sum6 of the
five Councils held a little before in France, we find in an appendix of two arti
cles the method of proceeding judicially against those who, under pretext of the
right called faida, excited tumults on Sundays, holidays, and also workiug
days. We have already seen above that they had recourse to the holy relics,
to give greater authority to the oaths of peace and friendship taken by kings
towards each other — an august act, in which Heaven was invoked to prevent
the effusion of blood, and to establish peace on earth. We see in the capitulary
which we have just quoted, that the respect for Sundays and holidays was made
use of to bring about the abolition of the barbarous custom, which authorized
the relations of a murdered man to avenge his death in the blood of the murderer.
The Jeplorable state of European society at that time is vividly painted by the
means which the ecclesiastical power was compelled to use, to diminish in some
degree the disasters occasioned by the prevailing violence. Not to attack, not
to maltreat any one, not to have recourse to force to obtain reparation or to
gratify a desire of vengeance, appears to us to be so just, so reasonable, and so
natural, that we can hardly imagine another way of acting. If, now, a law
were promulgated, to forbid one to attack one's enemy on such or such a day,
at such or such an hour, it would appear to us the height of folly and extrava
gance. But it was not so at that time; such prohibitions were made continu
ally, not in obscure hamlets, but in great towns, in very numerous assemblies,
when bishops were present in hundreds, and where counts, dukes, princes, and
kings were gathered together. This law, by which authority was glad to make
the principles of justice respected, at least on certain days, — principally on the
great solemnities, — this law, which now would appear to us so strange, was, in
a certain way, and for a long period, one of the chief points of public and pri
vate law in Europe. It will be understood that I allude to the truce of God, a
privilege of peace very necessary at that time, as we see it very often renewed
in various countries. Of all that I might say on this point, I shall content
myself with selecting a few of the decisions of Councils at the time. The
Council of Tubuza, in the diocese of Eliie, in Roussillon, held by Guifred,
Archbishop of Narbonne, in 1041, established the truce of God, from the even
ing of Friday, until Monday morning. Nobody during that time could take
any thing by force, or revenge any injury, or require any pledge in surety.
Those who violated this decree were liable to the same legal composition ^ if
they had merited death; in default of which, they were excommunicated and
banished from the country.

The practice of this ecclesiastical regulation was considered so advantageous,
that many other Councils were held in France during the same year, on the
same subject. Moreover, care was taken frequently to repeat the obligation, as
we see by the Council of Saint Grilles, in Languedoc, held in 1042, and by that
of Narboune, held in 1045. In spite of these, repeated efforts did not obtain
all the desired fruit; this is indicated by the changes which we observe in the
segulations of the h>w. Thus we sue that, in the year 1047. the truce of Gkd

180 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATI1OLIC1T* .

was fixed for a less time than in 1041 ; the Council of Telugis, in the
diocese of Elne, held in 1047, only ordains that it is forbidden to any one ia
all the comte of Roussillon to attack his enemy between the hours of none on
Sunday and prime on Monday; the law was then much less extensive than in
1041, when, as we have seen, the truce of God was extended from Friday even-
ing till Monday morning. We find in the same Council a remarkable regula
tion, the object of which was to preserve from all attack men who were going
to church or returning from it, or who were accompanying women. In 1054,
the truce of God had gained ground; we see it extended, not only frcm Friday
evening till Monday morning after sunrise, but over considerable periods of the
year. Thus we see that the Council of Narbonne, held by Archbishop Guifred,
in 1045, after having included in the truce of God the time from Friday even-
ino- till Monday morning, declares it obligatory during the following periods:
from the first Sunday of Advent till the octave of the Epiphany; from Quin-
quagesima Sunday till the octave of Easter; from the Sunday preceding the
Ascension till the octave of Pentecost; the festival days of Our Lady, of St.
Peter, of St. Laurence, of St. Michael, of All Saints, of St. Martin, of St. Just
and Pasteur, titularies of the Church of Narboune, and all fasting days, under
pain of anathema and perpetual banishment. The same Council gives some
other regulations, so beautiful that we cannot pass them over in silence, when
we are engaged in showing the influence of the Catholic Church in improving
manners. The 9th canon forbids the cutting of olive-trees; a reason for it i»
given, which, in the eyes of jurists, will not appear sufficiently general or ade
quate, but which, in the eyes of the philosophy of history, is a beautiful symbol
of the beneficial influence exercised over society by religion. This is the rea
son given by the Council: "It is," it says, "that the olive-trees ma^ furnish
matter for the holy chrism, and feed the lamps that burn in the churches." Such
a reason was sure to produce more effect than any that could be drawn from
Ulpian and Justinian. It is ordained in the 10th canon that shepherds and
their flocks shall enjoy at all times the security of the truce; the same favor is
extended by the llth canon to all houses within thirty paces of the churches.
The 18th canon forbids those who have a suit, to take any active steps, to Com
mit the least violence, until the cause has been judged in presence of the bishop
and lord of the place. The other canons forbid the robbing of merchants and
pilgrims, and the commission of wrong against any one, under pain of being
separated from the Church, if the crime be committed during the time of the
truce.

In proportion as we advance in the llth century, we see the salutary practice
of the truce of God more and more inculcated; the Popes interpose their
authority in its favor. At the Council of Gironne, held by Cardinal Hugues-
le-Blanc, in 1068, the truce of God is confirmed by the authority of Alexander
[I., under pain of excommunication; the Council held in 1080, at Lillebonne,
in Normandy, gives us reason to suppose that the truce was then generally
established, since it ordains, by its first canon to bishops and lords, to take
eare that it was observed, and to inflict on offenders against it censures and
other penalties. In the year 1093, the Council of Troja, in Apulia, held
by Urban II., continues tne truce of God. To judge of the extent of this
canonical regulation, we should know that this Council consisted of sixty-five
bishops. The number was much greater at the Council of Clermont, in Au-
vergne, held by the same Urban II., in 1095; it reckoned no less than thirteen
archbishops, two hundred and twenty bishops, and a great number of abbots.
The first canon of this Council confirms the truce for Thursday, Friday, Satur-
day, and Sunday ; it wishes, moreover, that it should be observed on all the
days of the week, with respect to monks, clergy, and women. The canons 29
and 30 ordain, that if a man pursued by an enemy take refuge near a cross, he

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 181

ghould be in safety, as if he had found asylum in a church. The sublima sign
of redemption, after having given salvation to the world, by drinking on Cal
vary the blood of the Son of God, had already proved a refuge, during the sack
of Rome, to those who fled from the fury of the barbarians; centuries later, we
find it erected on the roads, to save the unfortunate, who, by embracing it,
escaped their enemies, who were thus deterred from vengeance.

The Council of Rouen, held in 1096, extending still further the benefit of
the truce, ordains the observance of it from the Sunday before Ash Wednesday
till the second feast after the octave of Pentecost, from sunset on Wednesday
preceding Advent to the octave of Epiphany, and every week from Friday after
sunset till the Monday following at sunrise ; in fine, on all the feasts and vigils
of the Virgin and the Apostles. The 2d canon of the same Council secures
perpetual peace to all clergy, monks, and nuns, to women, to pilgrims, to mer
chants and their servants, to oxen and horses of labor, to carmen and laborers j
it gives the same privileges to all lands that belong to sacred institutions ; all
such persons, animals, and lands are protected from the attacks of pillage and
all kinds of violence. At this time the law felt itself stronger ; it could now
call for obedience in a firmer tone j we see, indeed, that the third canon of the
same Council enjoins upon all who have reached the age of twelve, to engage
by oath to observe the truce ; in the fourth canon, all who refuse to take this
oath are excommunicated. Some years after, in 1115, the truce, instead of
comprising certain stated parts of the year, embraces whole years ; the Council
of Troja in Apulia, held in that year by Pope Pascal, establishes the truce
for three years.

The Popes pursued with ardor the work thus commenced ; they sanctioned it
with their authority, and extended the observance of the truce by means of
their influence, then universal and powerful over all Europe. Although the
truce was apparently only a testimony of respect paid to religion by the violent
passions, which, in her favor, consented to suspend their hostilities, it was, in
reality, a triumph of right over might, and one of the most admirable devices
ever used to improve the manners of a barbarous people. The man who, during
four days of the week, and during long periods of the year, was compelled to
suspend the exercise of force, was necessarily led to more gentle manners; he
must, in the end, entirely renounce it. The difficulty is not, to convince a man
that he does ill, but to make him lose the habit of doing so ; and it is well
known that habits are engendered by the repetition of acts, and are lost when
they cease for a time. Nothing is more pleasing to the Christian soul than tc
see the Popes laboring to maintain and extend this truce. They renew the
command of it with a power the more efficacious and universal according to the
number of bishops who assist at the Councils where their supreme authority
presides. At the Council of Rheims, opened by Pope Calixtus II. in person,
in 1119, a decree confirming the truce is promulgated. Thirteen archbishops,
more than two hundred bishops, and a great number of abbots and ecclesiastics,
distinguished for their rank, assisted at this Council. The same command is
renewed at the General Council of Lateran, held under the care of the saiiio
Pontiff, Calixtus II., in 1123. There were assembled more than three hundred
archbishops and bishops, and more than $px hundred abbots. In 1130, the
Council of Clermont, in Auvergne, held by Innocent II., insists on the same
point, and repeats the regulations concerning the observance of the truce. The
Council of Avignon, held in 1209, by Hugh, Bishop of Riez, and Milon, notary
of Pope Innocent III., both legates of the Holy See, confirms the laws before
enacted on the subject of the peace and the truce, and condemns the rebellious
who dare to infringe them. In the year 1215, at the Council of Montpellier,
assembled by Robert de Courgon, and presided over by Cardinal Benavent, in
his office as legate of the province, all the regulations established at different

Q

182 I'ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

times for the public safety, and more recently to secure peace between lord and
lord, and town and own* are renewed and confirmed.

Those who have regarded the intervention of the ecclesiastical power in civil
affairs as a usurpation of the rights of public authority, should tell us how it
is possible to usurp that which does not exist, and how a power which is unable
to exercise the authority which ought to belong to it, can reasonably complain
when that authority passes into the hands of those who have force and skill to
make use of it. At that time, the public authority did not at all complain of
these pretended usurpations. Governments and nations looked upon them as
just and legitimate; for, as we have said above, they were natural and neces
sarv, they were brought about by the force of events, they were the result of
the" situation of affairs. Certainly, it would now seem extraordinary to see
bishops provide for the security of roads, publish edicts against incendiaries,
against robbers, against those who cut down olive-trees and commit other inju
ries of the kind ; but, at the time we are speaking of, this proceeding was very
natural, and more, it was necessary. Thanks to the care of the Church, to that
incessant solicitude which has been since so inconsiderately blamed, the founda
tions of the social edifice, in which we now dwell in peace, were laid ; an organ
ization was realized which would have been impossible without the influence of
religion and the action of ecclesiastical authority. If you wish to know whe
ther any fact of which you have to judge is the result of the nature of things,
.or the fruit of well contrived combinations, observe the manner in which it
appears, the places where it takes its rise, the times which witness its appear
ance ; and if you shall find it reproduced at once in places far distant from each
other, by men who can have had no concert, be assured that it is not the result
of human contrivance, but of the force of events. These conditions are found
united in a palpable manner in the action of the ecclesiastical power on public
affairs. Open the Councils of those times, and everywhere the same facts meet
your eyes ; thus, to quote a few examples, the Council of Palentia, in the king
dom of Leon, held in 1129, decrees, in its 12th canon, exile or seclusion in a
monastery, against those who attack the clergy, monks, merchants, pilgrims, and
women. Let us pass into France ; the Council of Clermont, in Auvergne, held
in 1130, pronounces, in its 13th canon, excommunication against incendiaries.
En 1157, the Council of Rheims, in the 3d canon, orders to be respected,
during war, the persons of the clergy, of monks, women, travellers, laborers,
and vine-dressers. Let us pass into Italy; the llth Council of Lateran, a
General Council, convoked in 1179, forbids, in its 22d canon, to maltreat or
disturb monks, clergy, pilgrims, merchants, peasants, either travelling or engaged
in the labors of agriculture, and animals laboring in the fields. In its 24th
canon, the same Council excommunicates those who make slaves of, or rob,
Christians on voyages of commerce, or for other lawful purposes ; those who
plunder the shipwrecked are subjected to the same penalty, unless they make
restitution. Let us go to England ; there the Council of Oxford, held in 1222,
by Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, forbids, by its 20th canon, any
one to have robbers in their service. In Sweden, the Council of Arbogen, held
in 1396, by Henry, Archbishop of Upsala, directs, by its 5th canon, that church-
burial shall be refused to pirates, ravishers, incendiaries, highway robbers, op
pressors of the poor, and other malefactors; so that in all parts, and at the^ame
periods, we see the same fact appear, viz. the Church struggling against injus
tice *ii violerce, and endeavoring to substitute in their stead the empire of law
and justice.

In what spirit must they read the history of the Church, who do not feel th«
beauty of the picture presented to us by the multitude of regulations, scarcely
indicated here/all tending to protect the weak against the strong? The clergj
and monks, on account of the weakness consequent on their peaceful profession.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 18&

find tn the canons which we have just quoted peculiar protection ; but the same
is granted to females, to pilgrims, to merchants, to villagers, travelling, or en
gaged in rural labors, and to beasts of labor — in a word, to all that is weak ;
and observe, that this protection is not a mere passing effort of generosity, but
a system practised in widely different places, continued for centuries, developed
and applied by all the means that charity suggests — a system inexhaustible in
resources and contrivances, both in producing good and in preventing evil. And
surely it cannot be said that the Church was influenced in this by views of self-
interest : what interested motive could she have in preventing the spoliation of
an obscure traveller, the violence inflicted on a poor laborer, or the insult offered
to a defenceless woman? The spirit whnh then animated her, whatever might
be the abuses which were introduced dui ing unhappy times, was, as it now is.
the spirit of God himself — that spirit wlich continually communicates to her
BO marked an inclination towards goodness and justice, and always urges her to
realize, by any possible means, her sublime desires. I leave the reader to judge
whether "or not the constant efforts of the Church to banish the dominion of
force from the bosom of society were likely to improve manners. I now speak
only of times of peace; for I need not stay to prove that during the time of
war that influence must have had the happiest results. The vce victis of the
ancients has disappeared from modern history, thanks to the divine religion
which knew how to inspire man with new ideas and new feelings — thanks to the
Catholic Church, whose zeal for the redemption of captives has softened the
fierce maxims of the Romans, who, as we have seen, had considered it necessary
to take from brave men the hope of being redeemed from servitude, when by
the chances of war they had fallen into the hands of their enemies. The reader
may revert to the seventh chapter of this work, and the third paragraph of the
fifteenth note, where there are, in the original text, numerous documents that
may be quoted in support of our assertion; he will thus be better able to judge
of the gratitude which is due to the charily, disinterestedness, and indefatigable
zeal of the Catholic Church in favor of the unfortunate, who groaned in bondage
in the power of their enemies. We must also consider that, slavery once abo
lished, the system was necessarily improved; for if those who surrendered could
no longer be put to death, or be kept in slavery, the only thing to be done was,
to retain them for the time necessary to prevent their doing mischief, or until
they were ransomed. Now, this is the modern system, which consists in retain
ing!: prisoners till the end of the war, or until they are exchanged.

Although the amelioration of manners, as I have said above, consists, properly
speaking, in the exclusion of force, we must yet avoid considering this exclusion
of force in the abstract, and believing that such an order of things was possible,
by virtue of the mere development of mind. All is connected in this world ;
it is not enough, to constitute the real improvement of manners, that they avoid
violence as much as possible ; they must also be benevolent. As long as they
are not so, they will be less gentle than enervated ; the use of force will not be
banished from society, but it will remain artificially disguised. It will be un
derstood, then, that we are obliged here to take a survey of the principle whence
European civilization has drawn the spirit of benevofence which distinguishes
it; we shall thus succeed in showing that the gentleness of our present manners
is principally owing to Catholicity. There is, besides, in the examination of the
principle of benevolence, so much importance of its own, independently of its
connection with the question which now occupies us, that we cannot avoid devot
ing some pages to it. in the course of an analytical review of the elements of'
our civilization. (22)

IH4

CHAPTER XXXIII.

ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF PUBLIC BENEFICENCE IN EUROPE.

NEVER will manners be perfectly gentle without the existence of public bene
ficence ; so that gentleness of manners and beneficence, although distinct, are
sisters. Public beneficence, properly so called, was unknown "among the
ancients. Individuals might be beneficent there, but society was without com
passion. Thus, the foundation of public establishments of beneficence formed
no part of the system of administration among ancient nations. What, then,
lid they do with the unfortunate ? We will answer with the author of the
G6nie de Christianisme, that they had no resources but infanticide and slavery.
Christianity having become predominant everywhere, we see the authority of
the Church employed in destroying the remains of cruel customs. In the year
442, the Council of Vaison, establishing a regulation for the legitimate posses
sion of foundlings, decrees ecclesiastical censure against those who disturb by
importunate reproaches charitable persons who have received children. The
Council adopts this measure with the view of protecting a beneficent custom ;
for, adds the canon, these children were exposed to be eaten l>y dogs. There were
still found fathers unnatural enough to kill their children. The Council of
Lerida, held in 546, imposes seven years of penance on those who commit such
a crime; and that of Toledo, held in 589, forbids, in the 17th canon, parents
to commit this crime. Still, the difficulty did not consist in correcting these
excesses; crimes thus opposed to the first notions of morality — so much in
contradiction to the feelings of nature — tended to their own extirpation. The
difficulty consisted in finding proper means to organize a vast system of benefi
cence, to provide constant succor, not only for children, but for old men, for the
sick, for the poor incapable of living by their own labor ; in a word, for all the
necessitous. Familiarized as we are with such a system universally established,
we see nothing in it but what is simple and natural ; we can hardly find any
merit in it. But let us suppose for a moment that such institutions do not
exist; let us transport ourselves to the times when there was not even the first
idea of them, what continued efforts would there not be required to establish
and organize them !

It is clear that by the mere extension of Christian charity in the world the
various wants of humanity must have been more frequently succored, and with
more efficacy, than they were before ; and this even if we suppose that the
exercise of charity was limited to purely individual means. Assuredly, there
would always have been a great number of the faithful who would have remem
bered the doctrines and example of Jesus Christ. Our Saviour did not content
Himself with teaching us by his discourses the obligation of loving our neigh
bor as ourselves, nor with a barren affection, but by giving food to the hungry,
drink to the thirsty, clothes to the naked ; by visiting the sick and prisoners.
He showed us in his own conduct a model of the practice of charity. He
could have shown in a thousand ways the power which belonged to Him in
heaven and on earth ; his voice could have controlled all the elements, stopped
the motions of the stars, and suspended all the laws of nature ; but He delighted
above all in displaying his beneficence ; He only attested his divinity by mira
cles which healed or consoled the unfortunate. His whole life is summed up in
the sublime simplicity of these two words of the sacred text : pertransiit benefar
ciendo; Us went about doing good.

Whatev3r good might be expected from Christian charity when left to its
own inspiration, and acting in a sphere purely individual, it was not desirable
to leave it in this state. It was necessary to realize it in permanent institu-
do»s, and not to leave the consolation of the unfortunate to the mercy of map

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 185

•ind pa&sing circumstances; this is the reason why there was so much wisdom
and foresight iu the idea of founding establishments of beneficence. It was the
Church that conceived and executed this idea. Therein she only applied to a
particular case her general rule of conduct; which is, never to leave to the will
of individuals what can be connected with an institution : and observe, that
this is one of the causes of the strength inherent in all that belongs to Catholi
city. As the principle of authority in matters of faith preserves to her unity
and constancy therein, so the rule of intrusting every thing to institutions
secures the solidity and duration of all her works. These two principles have
an intimate connection; for if you examine them attentively, the one supposes
that she distrusts the intellect of man, the other, that she distrusts his indivi
dual will and capacity. The one supposes that man is not sufficient of himself
to attain to, and preserve the knowledge of, certain truths; the other, that he
is so feeble and capricious, that it is unwise to leave to his weakness and incon
stancy the care of doing good. Now, neither one nor the other is injurious to
man; neither one nor the other lowers his proper dignity. The Church only
tells him, that he is, in reality, subject to error, inclined to evil, inconstant in
his designs, and very miserable in his resources. These are melancholy truths;
but the experience of every day attests them, and the Christian religion explain?
them, by establishing, as a fundamental dogma, the fall of man in the person
of our first parent. Protestantism, following principles diametrically opposite
applies the same spirit of individuality to the will as to the intelligence; it i-
even the natural enemy of institutions. Without going further than our present
subject, we see that its first step, on its appearance, was to destroy what existed,
without in any way replacing it. Will it be believed that Montesquieu went so
far as to applaud this work of destruction? This is another proof of the fatal
influence exerted over minds by the pestilential atmosphere of the last century :
"Henri VIII.," says Montesquieu, "voulant reformer 1'eglise d'Angleterre,
cletruisit les moines : nation paresseuse elle-mgme, et qui entretenait la paresse
des autres, parceque, practiquant 1'hospitalite', une infinite de gens oisifs, gentil-
hornmes ct bourgeois, passoient leur vie a courir de couvent en couvent. 11 ota
encore les Iiopitaux, ou le has peuple trouvait sa subsistence, cornme les gentil-
hommes trouvaient la leur dans les monasteres. D'epuis ce changement, 1'esprit
de commerce et d'industrie s'dtablit en Angleterre." (De, I 'Esprit des Lois,
liv. xxiii. chap. 19.) That Montesquieu should praise this conduct of Henry
VIII., and the destruction of monasteries, for the miserable reason, that it was
good to deprive the idle of the hospitality of the monks, is a notion which ought
iv. )t to asfonish us, as such vulgar ideas were in accordance with the taste of the
philosophy which had then begun to prevail. It attempted to find profound
economical and political reasons for all that was in opposition to the institutions
of Catholicity; and this was not difficult, for a prejudiced mind always finds in
books, as well as in facts, what it seeks. We might inquire of Montesquieu,
however, what is become of the property of the monasteries? As these rich
spoils were in great part given to the same nobles who found hospitality with
th"! monks, we might observe to him, that it was a singular way of diminishing
the idleness of people, to give them as their own the property which they
had previously enjoyed as guests. It cannot be denied, that to take to the
houses of the nobles the property which had supported the hospitality which
the monks showed them, was certainly to save them the trouble of running from
monastery to monastery. But what we cannot tolerate is, to hear vaunted as a
political chef-d'oeuvre, the suppression of the hospitals where the poor people found
their subsistence. What ! are these your lofty views, and is your philosophy so
devoid of compassion, that you think the destruction of the asylums of misfor
tune proper means for encouraging industry and commerce? The worst of il
ts, that Montesquieu, seduced bv the desire of offering new and piquant obsor
24 Q 2

186 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

vatious, goes BU far as to deny the utility of hospitals, pretending that, in Rome,
they make all live in comfort except those who labor. He does not wish to
have them in rich nations or in poor ones. He supports this cruel paradox by
a reason stated in the following words: " Quand la nation est pauvre," says he,
" la pauvrete particuliere derive de la misere generale, et elle est, pour ainsi
dire, la misere generale. Tous les hopitaux du monde ne sauraient gu6rir cette
pauvrete particuliere; au contraire I' esprit de paresse qu'ils inspirenfr augments
la, pauvrete (jenerale, et par consequent la partit-uli&re." Thus, hospitals are
represented as dangerous to poor nations, and consequently condemned. Let
us now listen to what is said of rich ones: " J'ai dit que les nations riches avai-
ent besoin d'hopitaux, parceque la fortune y etait sujette a mille accidents; mais
on sent que les recours passayers vaudraient bien mivux que les etablixsements per-
pf fuels. Le mal est momentane; il faut done des secours de ineme nature, et
qui soient applicables a 1'accideut particulier." (De V Esprit des Lois, liv. xxiii.
chap. 19.) It is difficult to find any thing more empty or more false. Un
doubtedly, if we were to judge, by these passages, of the Esprit des Lots, the
merit of which has been so much exaggerated, we should be compelled to con
demn it in terms more severe than those employed by M. de Bonald, when he
called it "the most profound of superficial works." Happily for the poor, and
for the good order of society, Europe in general has not adopted these maxims;
and on this point, as on many others, prejudices against Catholicity have been
laid aside, in order to continue, with more or less modification, the system which
she taught. We find in England herself a considerable number of establish
ments of beneficence ; and it is not believed in that country that it is necessary,
in order to excite the activity of the poor, to expose them to the danger of dying
of hunger. We should always remember that the system of public establish
ments for beneficence, now general in Europe, would not have existed without
Catholicity; indeed, we may rest assured, that if the religious schism had taken
place before the foundation and organization of this system, European society
would not now have enjoyed these establishments which do it so much honor,
and are so precious an element of good government and public tranquillity.
It is one thing to found and maintain an establishment of this kind, when a
great number of similar ones already exist, — when governments possess im
mense resources, and strength sufficient to protect all interests; but it is a very
different thing to establish a multitude of them in all places, when there is no
model to be copied, when it is necessary to improvise in a thousand ways the
indispensable resources, — when public authority has no prestige or force to con
trol the violent passions that struggle to gahi every thing that they can feed on
Now, in modern times, since the existence of Protestantism, the first only of
these things has been done ; the second was accomplished centuries before by the
Catholic Church; and let it be observed, that what has been done in Protestant
qountrics in favor of public beneficence, has been done by administrative acts
of the government, acts which were necessarily inspired by the view of the happy
results already obtained from similar institutions. But Protestantism, by itself,
considered as a separate Church, has done nothing, and it could do nothing; for
in all places where it preserves any thing of hierarchical organization, it is the
mere instrument of the civil power; consequently it cannot there act by its own
inspirations. Such is the vice of its constitution. Its prejudice against the
religious institutions, both of men and women, make it sterile in this respect.
Thus, indeed, it is deprived of one of the most powerful elements possessed by
Catholicity to accomplish the most arduous and laborious works of charity. For
the great works of charity, it is necessary to be free from worldly attachments
*nd self-love; and these qualities are found in an eminent degree in persona
who are devoted to charity in religious institutions. There they commence
with that freedom which is the root of all the rest — the absence of self-lovo

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED W.TH CATHOLICITY. 1ST

The Catholic Church has not been instigated to this by the 3ivil power; she
has considered it as one of her own peculiar duties to provide for the unfortu
nate. Her bishops have always been looked upon as the pr Sectors and the
natural inspectors of beneficent establishments. Therefore there was a law
which placed hospitals under the charge of the bishops; and thence it comes
that that class of charitable institutions has always occupied a distinguished
place in canonical legislation. The Church, from remote times, has made lawt
concerning hospitals. Thus, we see the -Council of Chalcedon place under the
authority of the bishop the clergj residing in Ptochiis, — that is, as explained bj
Zonarus, in the establishments destined to support and provide for the poor:
"Such," he says, "as those where orphans and the old and infirm are received
and cared for." The Council makes use of this expression, according to the
tradition of the holy Fathers; thereby indicating that regulations had been
made of old by the Church concerning establishments of this kind. The learned
also know what the ancient diaconies were, — places of charity, where poor widows,
orphans, old men, and other unfortunate persons, were received.

When the irruption of the barbarians had introduced everywhere the reign
ot force, the possessions which hospitals already had, and those which they
afterwards gained, were exposed to unbounded rapacity. The Church did all
she could to protect them. It was forbidden to take them, under the severest
penalties; those who made the attempt were punished as murderers of the poor.
The Council of Orleans, held in 549, forbids, in its 13th canon, taking the
property of hospitals; the 15th canon of the same Council confirms the founda
tion of a hospital at Lyons, a foundation due to the charity of King Childebert
and Queen Ultrogotha. The Council takes measures to secure the safety and
good management of the funds of that hospital; all violating these regulations
are anathematized as guilty of homicide of the poor.

We find, with respect to the poor, in very ancient Councils, regulations of
charity and police at the same time, quite similar to measures now adopted in
certain countries. For example, parishes are enjoined to make a list of their
poor, to maintain them, &c. The Council of Tours, held in 566 or 567, by its
5th canon orders every town to maintain its poor; and the priests in the
country, as well as the faithful, to maintain their own, in order to prevent men
dicants from wandering about the towns and provinces. With respect to lepers,
the 21st canon of the Council of Orleans, before quoted, prescribes to bishops to
take particular care of these unfortunate beings in all diocesses, and to furnish
them with food and clothing out of the Church funds ; the Council of Lyons,
held in 583, in its 6th canon ordains that the lepers of every town and terri
tory shall be supported at the expense of the Church under the care of the
bishop. The Church had a register of the poor, intended to regulate the distri
bution which was made to them of a portion of the ecclesiastical property ; it
was expressly forbidden to demand any thing from the poor for being inscribed
in this book of charity. The Council of Kheims, held in 874, in the second of
its five articles fdrbids receiving any thing from the poor thus inscribed, and that
under pain of deposition. Zeal for improving the condition of prisoners, a
kind of charity which has been so much displayed in modern times, is extremely
ancient in the Church. We must observe that in the sixth century there was
already an inspector of prisons; the archdeacon or the provost of the church wai
obliged to visit prisoners on all Sundays ; no class of criminals was excluded
from the benefit of this solicitude. The archdeacon was bound to learn theii
wants, and to furnish them, by means of a person recommended by the bishop
with food and all they stood in need of. This was ordered by the 20th canon of
the Council of Orleans, held in 549. It would be^too long to enumerate even a
small part of the ordinances which attest the zeal of the Church for the comfort
and consolation of the unfortunate ; besides, it would be beyond my purpose, fo»

188 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

I have only undertaken to compare the spirit of Protestantism with that of
Catholicity with respect to works of charity. Yet, and as the development of
this question has naturally led me to state several historical facts, I shall allude
to the 141st canon of the Council of Aix-la-Chapelle, enjoining upon prelates to
found, according to the example of their predecessors, a hospital to receive all
the poor that the revenues of the Church were able to support. Prebendaries
'were bound to give to the hospital the tenth of their fruits ; one or* them was
ippointed to receive the poor and strangers, and to watch over the administration
of the hospital. Such was the rule of prebendaries. In the rule destined for
the canonesses, the same Council ordains that a hospital shall be established
close to the house, and that it shall itself contain a place reserved for poor
women. Therefore, were there seen, many centuries later, in various places,
hospitals near to prebendal churches. As we approach our own times, we
everywhere see innumerable institutions founded for charity. Ought we not to
admire the fruitfulness with which there arise, on all sides, as many resources as
are necessary to succour all the unfortunate ? We cannot calculate with preci
sion what would have happened if Protestantism had not appeared, but at least
there is a conjecture authorized by reasons of analogy. If the development of
European civilization had been fully carried out under the principle of religious
unity, if the so-called Reformation had not plunged Europe into continual revo-
utions and reactions, there would certainly have been produced in the bosom
of the Catholic Church some general system of beneficence, which, organized on
a grand scale and in conformity with the new progress of society, would have
been able to prevent or effectually to remedy the sore of pauperism, that cancer
of modern nations. What was not to be expected from all the intelligence and
all the resources of Europe, working in concert to obtain this great result ?
Unhappily, the unity of faith was broken ; authority, the proper centre, past,
present, and future, was rejected. From that time Europe, which was destined
to become a nation of brothers, was changed into a most fiercely-contested battle
field. Hatred, engendered by religious differences, prevented any united efforts
for new arrangements ; and the necessities which arose out of the bosom of the
social and political organization, which was for Europe the fruit of so many cen
turies of labor, could not be provided for. Bitter disputes, rebellions, and wars
were acclimatized among us.

Let us remember that the Protestant schism not only prevented the union of
all the efforts of Europe to attain the end in question, but, moreover, it has been
the reason why Catholicism has not been able to act in a regular manner even in
those countries where it has preserved its complete empire, or a decided predomi
nance. In these countries it has been compelled to hold itself in an attitude of
defence ; it has been obliged, by the attacks of its enemies, to employ a great
part of its resources in defending its own existence : it is very probably for this
reason that the state of things in Europe is entirely different from what it would
have been on a contrary supposition ; and perhaps in the latter case there would
not have existed the sad necessity of exhausting itself in impotent efforts against
an evil, which, according to all appearances, and unless hitherto unknown means
can be devised, appears without remedy. I shall be told that the Church in this
case would have had an excessive authority over all that relates to charity, and
would have unjustly usurped the civil power. This is a mistake ; the Church
has never claimed any thing that is not quite conformable to her indelible charac
ter of protector of all the unfortunate. During some centuries, it is true, we
hardly hear any other voice or perceive any other action than hers, in all that
relates to beneficence ; but we must observe that the civil power during that
time was very far from possessing a regular and vigorous administration, capable
vf d )ing withou' fehe aid of the Church The latter was so far from be'ng actu-

1ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 189

*ted by any motives of ambition, that her double charge of spiritual and temporal
Ihings im])osed on her all sorts of sacrifices.

Three centuries have passed away since the event of which we now lament
the fatal results. Europe during this period has been submitted in great part
to the influence of Protestantism, but it has made no progress thereby. I cannot
believe that these three centuries would have passed away under the exclusive
influence of Catholicity, without producing in the bosom of Europe a degree of
•jharity sufficient to raise the system of beneficence to the height demanded by
Jhe difficulties and new interests of society. If we look at the different systems
which ferment in minds devoted to the study of this grave question, we shall
always find there association under one form or another. Now association has
been at all times one of the favorite principles of Catholicity, which, by pro
claiming unity in faith, proclaims it also in all things; but there is this difference,
that a great number of associations which are conceived and established in our
days are nothing but an agglomeration of interests ; they want unity of will and
of aim, conditions which can be obtained only by means of Christian charity.
Yet these two conditions are indispensably necessary to accomplish great works
of beneficence, if any thing else is required than a mere measure of public admin
istration. As to the administration itself, it is of little avail when it is not
vigorous ; and unfortunately, in acquiring the necessary vigor, its action
becomes somewhat stiff and harsh. Therefore it is that Christian charity is
required, which, penetrating on all sides like a balsam, softens all that is harsh
in human action. I pity the unfortunate who in their necessities find only the
succor of the civil authorities, without the intervention of Christian charity.
In reports presented to the public, philanthropy may and will exaggerate thf
care which it lavishes on the unfortunate, but things will not be so in reality.
The love of our brethren, when it is not founded on religious principle, is a>
fruitful in words as it is barren in deeds. The sight of the poor, of the sick,
of impotent old age, is too disagreeable for us long to bear it, unless we are urged
to it by very powerful motives. Even much less can we hope that a vague
feeling of humanity will suffice to make us encounter, as we should, the constant
cares required to console these unfortunate beings. When Christian charity is
wanting, a good administration will no doubt enforce punctuality and exactitude
— all that can be demanded of men who receive a salary for their services : but
one thing will be wanting, which nothing can replace and money cannot buy,
viz. love. But it will be asked, have you no faith in philanthropy? No; for
as M. de Chateaubriand says, philanthropy is only the false coin of charity.
It was then perfectly reasonable that the Church should have a direct influence
in all branches of beneficence, for she knew better than any >>thers how to make
Christian charity active, by applying it to all kinds of necessities and miseries.
Therein she did not gratify her ambition, but found food for her zeal ; she did
not claim a privilege, but exerted a right. In fine, if you will persevere in
calling such a desire ambition, you cannot deny at least that it was ambition of
a new kind. 'An ambition truly worthy of glory and reward, is that which
claims the right of succoring and consoling the unfortunate. (23 )

CHAPTER XXXIV.

ON TOLERATION IN RELIGIOUS MATTERS.

THE question of the improvement of manners, treated in the preceding chaj>-
ters, naturally leads me to another, sufficiently thorny in itself, and rendered
still more so by innumerable prejudices. I allude to toleration in matters of
religion. The word Catholicity, to certain persons, is the synonyme of intolo-

190 PROTEST A >'TISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

ranee; and the confusion of ideas on this point has become such, i\i& no mor*
laborious task can be undertaken than to clear them up. It is only necessary
to pronounce the word intolerance, to raise in the minds of some people all
sorts of black .and horrible ideas. Legislation, institutions, and men of past
times, all are condemned without appeal, the moment there is seen the slightest
appearance of intolerance. More than one cause contributes to this universal
prejudice. Yet, if called upon to point out the principal one, we would repeat
the profound maxim of Cato, who, when accused at the age of eighty-six of
certain offences of his past life, committed at times long gone by, said, " It is
difficult to render an account of one's own conduct to men belonging to an age
different from that in which one has lived." There are some things of which
one cannot accurately judge without, not only a knowledge of them, but also a
complete appreciation of the times when they occurred. How many men are
capable of attaining to this ? There are few who are able to succeed in freeing
their minds from the influence of the atmosphere which surrounds them ; but
there are fewer still who can do the same with their hearts. The age in which
we live is precisely the reverse of the ages of intolerance ; and this is the first
difficulty which meets us in discussing questions of this kind. The prejudice
and bad faith of some who have applied themselves to this subject, have contri
buted also in a considerable degree to erroneous opinions. There is nothing in
the world which cannot be undervalued by showing only one side of it ; for thus
considered, all things are false, or rather are not themselves. All bodies have
three dimensions ; only to look at one is not to form an idea of the body itself,
but of a quantity very different from it. Take any institution, the most just
and useful that can be imagined, then all the- inconveniences and evils which it
has caused, taking care to bring together into a few pages what in reality was
spread over a great many ages ; then your history will be disgusting, hideous,
and worthy of execration. Let a partisan of democracy describe to you in a
narrow compass, and by means of historical facts, all the inconveniences and
evils of monarchy, the vices and the crimes of kings ; how will monarchy then
appear to you ? But let a partisan of monarchy paint to you, in his turn, by the
same method of historical facts, democracy and demagogues ; and what will you
then think of democracy ? Assemble in one picture all the evils occasioned to
nations by a high degree of development of the social state ; civilization and
refinement will then appear detestable. By seeking and selecting in the annals
uf the human mind certain traits, the history of science may be made the his
tory of folly, and even of crime. By heaping together the fatal accidents that
have occurred to masters of the healing art, their beneficent profession may be
represented as a career of homicide. In a word, every thing may be falsified
by proceeding in this way God himself would appear to us as a monster of
cruelty and tyranny, if, taking away his goodness, wisdom, and justice, we only
attended to the evils which we see in a world created by his power and governed
by his providence.

Having laid down these principles, let us apply them. The spirit of the
age, particular circumstances, and an order of things quite different from ours,
are all forgotten, and the history of the religious intolerance of Catholics is
composed by taking care to condense into a few pages, and paint in the blackest
colours, the severity of Ferdinand and Isabella, of Philip II., of Mary of Eng
land, of Louis XIV., arid every thing of the kind that occurred during three
centuries. The reader who receives, almost at the same moment, the impres
sion of events which occurred during a period of three hundred years, — tLo
reader, accustomed to live in society where prisons are being converted into
houses of recreation, and where the punishment of death is vigorously opposed,
p»n be behold the appearance of darksome dungeons, the instruments of punish-
Tent, the sanbeni'os and scaffolds, without being deeply moved ? He will be-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 19)

»iil the unfortunate lot of those who perish; he will be indignant against the
authors of what he calls horrible atrocities. Nothing has been said to this can-
did reader of the principles and conduct of Protestants at the same time; he
has not been reminded of the cruelty of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth of Eng
land. Thus all his hatred is directed against Catholics, and he is accustomed
to regard Catholicity as a religion of tyranny and blood. But will a judgment
thus formed be just? Will this be a sentence passed with a full knowledge of
the cause ? What would impartiality direct us to do, if we met with a dark
picture, painted in the way we have described, of monarchy, democracy, or
civilization, of science, or of the healing art? What we should do, or rather
what we ought to do, is to extend our view further,, to examine the subject in
its different phases ; to inquire into its good as well as its evil : this would be
to look upon these evils as they really are, that is, spread at great distances
over the course of centuries; this would weaken the impression they had made
upon us : in a word, we should thus be just, we should take the balance in hand
to weigh the good and evil, to compare the one with the other, as we ought
always to do when we have duly to appreciate things in the history of humanity.
In the case in question, we should act in the same way, in order to provide
against the error into which we may be led by the false statements and exagge
rations of certain men, whose evident intention it has been to falsify facts Iby
representing only one side of them. The Inquisition no longer exists, and as
suredly there is nc probability of its being re-established ; the severe laws in
force on this matter in former times no longer exist; they are either abrogated
or they are fallen into desuetude : no one, therefore, has an interest in repre
senting this institution in a false point of view. It may be imagined that some
men had an interest in this while they were engaged in destroying their ancient
laws, but that once attained, the Inquisition and its laws are become a histo
rical fact, which ought to be examined here with attention and impartiality.
We have here two questions, that of principle, and that of its application ; in
other words, that of intolerance, and that of the manner of showing it. We
must not confound these two things, which, although very closely connected,
are very different. I shall begin with the first.

The principle of universal toleration is now proclaimed, and all kind of in
tolerance is condemned without appeal. But who takes care to examine the
real meaning of these words ? who undertakes to analyze the ideas which they
contain by the light of reason, and explain them by means of history and expe
rience ? Very few. They are pronounced mechanically ; they are constantly
employed to establish propositions of the highest importance, without even the
suspicion that they contain ideas, the right or wrong comprehension and appli
cation of which is every thing for the preservation of society. Few persons
consider that these words include questions as profound as they are delicate,
and the whole of a large portion of history ; very few observe that, according
to one solution given to the problem of toleration, all the past is condemned,
and all the present overturned; nothing is left thereby to build on for the
future but a moving bed of sand. Certainly, the' most convenient way in such
a case is, to adopt and employ these words such as we already find them in cir
culation, in the same way as we. take and circulate the current coin, without
considering whether it be composed of alloy or not. But what is the most con-
veni mt is not always the most, useful ; and, as when receiving coins of value,
we carefully examine them, so we ought to weigh words the meaning of whicfc
is of f uch paramount importance. Toleration — what is the meaning of thig
word ? It means, properly speaking, the patience with which we suffer a thing
wrhich we judge to be bad, but which we think it desirable not to punish. Thus,
some kinds of scandals are tolerated ; prostitutes are tolerated ; such and such
abuses ,°re tolerated ; so that the idea of toleration is always accompanied by

192 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the idea of evil. When toleration is exercised in the order of ideas, it always
supposes a misunderstanding, or error. No one will say that he tolerates the
truth. We have an observation to make here. The phrase to tolerate opinion*
is commonly used : now, opinion is very different from error. At first sight,
the difficulty appears great ; but if we examine the thing well, we shall be able
to explain it. When we say that we tolerate an opinion, we always mean an
opinion contrary to our own. In this case, the opinion of another is, according
to us, an error ; for it is impossible to have an opinion on any point whatever —
that is, to think that a thing is or is not, is in one way or in another — without
thinking at the same time that those who judge otherwise are deceived. If oui
opinion is only an opinion — that is, if our judgment, although based on reasons
which appear to us to be good, has not attained to a degree of complete cer
tainty — our judgment of another will be only a mere opinion ; but if our con
viction has become completely established and confirmed — that is, if it has
attained to certainty — we shall be sure that those who form a judgment opposed
to ours are de3eived. Thence it follows, that the word toleration, applied to
opinions, always means the toleration of an error. He who says, yes, thinks
no is false ', and he who says, no, thinks yes is a mistake. This is only an ap
plication of the well-known principle, that it is impossible for the same thing to
be and not to be at the same time. But, we shall be asked, What do you mean
when you use these words, l to respect opinions ?' is it always understood that
we respect errors ? No ; for these words can have two different and equally
reasonable meanings. The first is founded on the feebleness of the conviction
of the person from whom the respect comes. When on any particular point
we have only just formed an opinion, it is understood that we have not reached
certainty ; consequently, we know that there are reasons on the other side. In
this sense, we may well say that we respect the opinions of others : we express
thereby our conviction that it is possible that we are deceived — that it is possi
ble the truth is not on our side. In the second meaning, to respect opinions is
to respect, sometimes those who profess them, sometimes their good faith, some
times their intentions. Thus, when we say that we respect prejudices, it is
clear that we do not mean a real respect professed in this place. We see thus,
that the expression ' to respect the opinions of others' has a very different mean
ing, according as the person from whom the respect comes has or has not assured
convictions in the contrary sense.

In order the better to understand what toleration is, what its origin and its
effects, it is necessary, before we examine it in society, to reduce it to its sim
plest element. Let us analyze toleration considered in the individual. An
individual is called tolerant, when he is habitually in a disposition of mind to
bear without irritation or disturbance opinions contrary to his own. This tole
ration will bear different names, according to the different matters to which it
relates. In religious matters, tolerance as well as intolerance may be found in.
those who have religion as well as in those who have none ; so that neither of
these situations, with respect to religion, necessarily implies the one or the other
Some people imagine that tolerance is peculiar to the incredulous, and intole
rance to the religious; but they are mistaken. Who is more tolerant than St.
Francis de Sales ? who more intolerant than Voltaire ?

Tolerance in religious men — that tolerance which does not conae from want
of faith, and which is not inconsistent with an ardent zeal fo^the preservation
and propagation of the faith — is born of two principles, charity and humility.
Charity, which makes us love all men, even our greatest enemies; charity,
which inspires us with compassion for their faults and errors, and obliges us to
regard them as brothers, to employ all the means in our power to withdraw them
from being fatally deceived ; charity, which forbids us ever to regard them as
iepiived of the hope of salvation as long as they live. Ilousseau has said, that

PRJ1ESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 103

" it is impossible to live in peace with those that one believes to be damned."
We do not, and we cannot, believe in the condemnation of any man as Jong as
he lives ; however great may be his iniquity, the mercy of God and the value
of the blood of Jesus Christ are still greater. We are so far from thinking
with the philosopher of Geneva, " that to love such people would be to hate
God," that no one could maintain such a doctrine among us without ceasing to
belong to our faith. The other source of tolerance is Christian humility : humi
lity, which inspires us with a profound sense of our weakness, and makes U3
consider all that we have as given by God ; humility, which makes us consider
our advantages over our neighbor as so many more powerful motives for acknow
ledging the liberality of Providence ; humility, which, placing before our eyes
the spectacle of humanity in its proper light, makes us regard ourselves arid all
others as members of the great family of the human race, fallen from its ancient
dignity by the sin of our first parent ; humility, which shows us the perverse
inclinations of our hearts, the darkness of our minds, and the claims which

virtue which renders us indulgent towards all men, by never allowing us to for-
get that we ourselves, perhaps, more than any others, have need of indulgence
Yet for a man to be tolerant, in the full extent of the word, it is not enough
for him to be humble and charitable ; this is a truth which experience teaches
and reason explains to us. In order perfectly to clear up a point, the obscurity
of which produces the confusion which almost always prevails in these ques
tions, let us make a comparison between two men equally religious, whose prin
ciples are the same, but whose conduct is very different. Let us suppose two
priests both distinguished for learning and eminent virtue. The one has passed
his life in retirement, surrounded by pious persons, and having no intercourse
with any but Catholics : the other has been a missionary in countries where
different religions are established, he has been obliged to live and converse with
men of creeds different from his own ; he has been under the necessity of wit
nessing the establishment of temples of a false, religion close to those of the
true one. The principles of Christian charity will be the same with both these
priests; both will look upon faith as a gift of God, which he has received, and-
mast preserve; their conduct, however, will be very different, if they meet with
a man of a faith different from their own, or of none at all. The first, who,
never having had intercourse with any but the faithful, has always heard reli
gion spoken of with respect, will be horrified, will be indignant, at the first
word he shall hear against the faith or ceremonies of the Church ; it wiii be
impossible, or nearly so, for him to remain calm during a conversation or dis
cussion on the question : the second, accustomed to such things, to hear his
faith impugned, to dispute with men of creeds opposed to his own, will remain
tranquil; he will engage in a discussion with coolness, if it be necessary; he
will skilfully avoid one, if prudence shall advise such a course. Whence comes
this difference? It is not difficult to discover. The second of these priests,
by intercourse with men, by experience, by contradiction, has obtained a clear
notion of the real condition of men's minds in the world ; he is aware of the
fatal combination of circumstances which has led a great number of unfortunate
persons into error, and keeps them there ; he knows how, in some measure, to
put himself in their place ; and the more lively is his sense of the benefit con
ferred upon him by Providence, the more mild and indulgent he is towards
others. The other may be as virtuous, as charitable, and as humble as you
please ; but how can you expect of him that he will not be deeply moved, and
give utterance to his indignation, the first time that he hears that denied which
he has always believed with the most lively faith ? He has up to this time met
25 R

19 1 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED V/ITH CATHOLICITY.

fith no opposition in the world, but a few arguments in books. Certainly h«
*as not ignorant that there existed heretics and unbelievers, but he has not
frequently met with them, he has not heard them state their hundred different
systems, and he has not witnessed the erroneous creeds of men of all sorts, of
different characters, and the most varied minds ; the lively susceptibility of hig
mind, which has never met with resistance, has not been blunted : for this
reason, although endowed with the same virtues, and, if you will, wit{) the same
knowledge as the other, he has not acquired that penetration, that vivacity, so
to speak, with which a man of practised intellect enters into the minds of, those
with whom he has to deal, discerns the reasons, seizes the motives which blind
them and hinder them from obtaining a knowledge of the truth.

Thus tolerance, in a person who is religious, supposes a certain degree of
gentleness of mind, the fruit of intercourse with men, and the habits thereby
engendered ; yet this quality is consistent with the deepest conviction, and the
purest and most ardent zeal for the propagation of the truth. In the moral, as
in the physical world, friction polishes, use wears away, and nothing can remain
for a long time in an attitude of violence. A man will be indignant, once,
twice, a hundred times, when he hears his manner of thinking attacked ; but
it is impossible for him to remain so always; he will, in the end, become ac
customed to opposition ; he will, by habit, bear it calmly. However sacred
may be his articles of belief, he will content himself with defending and putting
them forward at convenient opportunities ; in all other cases, he will keep them
in the bottom of his soul, as a treasure which he is desirous to preserve from
any thing rtiat may injure them. Tolerance, then, does not suppose any new
principles in a man, but rather a quality acquired by practice ; a disposition of
mind, into which a man finds himself insensibly led; a habit of patience,
formed in him by constantly having to bear with what he disapproves of.

Now, if we consider tolerance in men who are not religious, we shall observe
that there are two ways of being irreligious. There are men who not only have
no religion, but who have an animosity against it, either on account of some
fatal error they entertain, or because they find it an obstacle to their designs.
These men are extremely intolerant ; and their intolerance is the worst of all
because it is not accompanied by any moral principle which can restrain it. A
man thus circumstanced feels himself, as it were, continually at war with him
self and the human race ; with himself, because he must stifle the cries of hia
own conscience : with the human race, because all protest against the mad doc
trine that pretends to banish the worship of God from the earth. Therefore
we find among men of this kind much rancor and spleen ; therefore their
words are full of gall; therefore they have constantly recourse to raillery,
insult, and- calumny.

But there is another class of men who, although devoid of religion, are not
Btrongly prejudiced against the faith. They live in a kind of skepticism, into
which the reading of bad books, or the observations of a superficial and frivo
lous philosophy, have led them ; they are not attached to religion, but they are
not its enemies. Many of them acknowledge the importance of religion for the
good of society, and some of them even feel within themselves a certain desire
to return to the faith; in their moments of recollection and meditation, they
remember with pleasure the days when they offered to God an obedient spirit
and a pura heart ; and at the sight of the rapid course of life, they perhaps love
to cherish the hope of becoming reconciled with the God of their fathers, be
fore they descend into the grave. These men are tolerant ; but, if carefully
examined, their tolerance is not a principle or a virtue, it is only a necessity
resulting from their position. It is difficult to be indignant at the opinions of
others, when we have none of our own — when, consequently, we do not come
into collision with anv. It is difficult to be violently opposed to religion, whep

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLlCirY. 195

we consider it as a thing necessary for the welfare of society; there can be no
hatred or rancor towards faith in a soul which desires its mercy, and which,
perhaps, fixes its eyes upon it as the last beam of hope amid the terrors of an
alarming future. Tolerance, in this case, is nothing strange ; it is natural and
necessary. Intolerance would be inconceivable and extravagant, and could
arise only from a bad heart.

In applying these remarks to society instead of individuals, it must be ob
served that tolerance, as well as intolerance, may be considered in government,
or in society. It sometimes happens that government and society are not
agreed ; while the former maintains one principle, the reverse may prevail in
the latter. As governments are composed of a limited number of individuals,
all that has been said of tolerance, considered individually, may be applied to
them. Let us not forget, however, that men placed in authority are not free to
give themselves up without limit to the impulses of their own opinions or feel
ings ; they are often forced to immolate their own feelings on the altar of pub
lic opinion. They may, owing to peculiar circumstances, oppose or impede that
opinion for a time ; but it will soon stop them, and force them to change their
course.

At> sooner or later government becomes the expression of the ideas and feel
ings of society, we shall content ourselves with considering tolerance in the lat
ter ; we shall observe that society, with respect to tolerance, follows the same
path as individuals. This is with it not the effect of a principle, but of a habit
Men of different creeds, who live together for a long time in the same society,
end by tolerating each other ; they are led to this by growing weary of collision
with each other, and by the wish for a kind of life more quiet and peaceful
But when men, thus divided in creed, find themselves face to face for the first
time, a shock more or less rude is the inevitable result. The causes of this
phenomenon are to be found in human nature itself; it is one of those necessi
ties against which we struggle in vain.

Some modern philosophers have imagined that socioty is indebted to them for
the spirit ,of toleration which prevails there ; they have not seen that it is much
rather a fact slowly brought about by the force of circumstances, than it is the
fruit of their doctrines. Indeed, what have they said that is new ? They have
recommended universal fraternity ; but this has always been one of the doctrines
of Christianity. They have exhorted men of all the different religions to live
in peace together ; but before they had opened their mouths to tell them this,
men began to adopt this course in many countries of Europe ; for, unhappily,
religious in many countries were so numerous and different, that none of them
could pretend to exclusive dominion. It is true that some infidel philosophers
have a claim, and a deplorable one, in support of their pretensions with respect
to the development of toleration ; it is, that, by their efforts to disseminate infi
delity and skepticism, they have succeeded in making general, in nations and
governments, that false toleration which has nothing virtuous, but is indifference
with respect to all religious. Indeed, why is tolerance so general in our age ?
or, rather, in what does our tolerance consist? If you observe well, you will
find that it is nothing but the result of a social condition perfectly similar to
that of the individual who has no creed, but who does not hate creeds, because
he considers them as conducive to the public good, and cherishes a vague hope
of one day finding a last asylum therein. All that is good in this is in no degree
owing to the infidel philosophers, but may rather be said to be a protest against
thqm. Indeed, when they could not obtain the supreme command, they lavished
calumnies and sarcasms on all that is most sacred in heaven and on earth ; and,
when they did raise themselves to power, they overturned with indescribable
fury all that existed, and destroyed millions of victims in exile or on the scaf
folds. The multitude of religious, — infidelity, indifference, the improvement

196 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

of manners, the lassitude produced by wars, — industrial and commercial organi
zation, which every day becomes more powerful in society, — communication
rendered more frequent among men by means of travelling, — the diffusion of
ideas by the press ; — such are the causes which have produced in Europe that
universal tolerance which has taken possession of all, and has been established
in fact when it could not by law. These causes, as it is easy to observe, are of
different kinds ; no doctrine can pretend to an exclusive influence ; they are the
result of a thousand different influences, which act simultaneously on the deve-
Jopment of civilization. (24)

CHAPTER XXXV.

ON THE RIGHT OF COERCION IN GENERAL.

How much, during the last century, was said against intolerance ! A philo
sophy less superficial than that which then prevailed would have reflected a lit
tle more on a fact which may be appreciated in different ways, but the existence
of which cannot be denied. In Greece, Socrates died drinking hemlock. Home,
whose tolerance has been so much vaunted, tolerated, indeed, foreign gods ; but
these were only foreign in name, since they formed a part of that system of
pantheism which was the foundation of the Roman religion ; gods, who, in ordei
to be declared gods of Rome, only needed the mere formality, as it were, of re
ceiving the name of citizens. But Rome did not admit the gods of Egypt any
more than the Jewish or Christian religion. She had, no doubt, many false
ideas with respect to these religions ; but she was sufficiently acquainted with
them to know that they were essentially different from her own. The history
of the Pagan emperors is the history of the persecution of the Church ; as soon
as they became Christians, a system of penal legislation was commenced against
^hose who differed from the religion of the state. In subsequent centuries,
intolerance continued under various forms ; it has been perpetuated down to our
times, and we are not so free from it as some would wish to make us believe.
The emancipation of Catholics in England is but of recent date; the violent
disputes of the Prussian government with the Pope, on the subject of certain
arbitrary acts of that government against the Catholic religion, are of yesterday ;
the question of Argau, in Switzerland, is still pending ; and the persecution
of Catholicity by the Russian government is pursued in as scandalous a manner
as at any former period. Thus it is with religious sects. As to the toleration
of the humane philosophers of the 18th century, it was exemplified in Robes
pierre.

Every government professing a religion is more or less intolerant towards
those which it does not profess; and this intolerance is diminished or destroyed,
only when the professors of the obnoxious religions are either feared on account
of their great power, or despised on account of their weakness. Apply to all
times and countries the rule which we have just laid down, you will everywhere
find it exact; it is an abridgment of the history of governments in their rela
tions with religions. The Protestant government of England has always been
intolerant toward Catholics; and it will continue to be so, more or less, accord
ing to circumstances. The governments of Russia and Prussia will continue to
act as they have done, up to this time, with the exception of modifications
required by difference of times; in the same way, in countries where Catholi
city prevails, the exercise of the Protestant worship will always be more or
less interfered with. I shall be told of the instance of France as a proof of the
contrary; in that country, where the immense majority profess the Catholic
r«ligion. other worships are allowed, without any disposition on the part of the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 19?

state to disturb them. This toleration will perhaps be attributed to public
opinion ; it comes, I think, from this, that no fixed principle prevails there in
the government : all the policy of France, internal and external, is a constant
compromise to get out of difficulties in the best possible way. Tins is shown
by facts ; it appears from the well-known opinions of the small number of men
who, for some years, have ruled the destinies of France It has been attempted
to establish in principle universal toleration, and refuse to government the right
of violating consciences in religious matters ; nevertheless, in spite of all that
has been said, philosophers have not been able to make a very clear exposition
of their principle, still less have they been able to procure its general adoption
as a system in the government of states. In order to show that the thing is not
quite so simple as has been supposed, I will beg leave to ask a few questions of
these soi-disant philosophers. If a religion which required human sacrifices
were established in your country, would you tolerate it'/ No. And why?
Because we cannot tolerate such a crime. But then you will be intolerant ;
you will violate the consciences of others, by proscribing, as a crime, what in
their eyes is a homage to the Divinity. Thus thought many nations of old, and
so think some now By what right do you make your conscience prevail over
theirs? — It matters not; we shall be intolerant, but our intolerance will be for
the good of humanity. — I applaud your conduct ; but you cannot deny that it
is a case in which intolerance with respect to a religion appears to you a right
and a duty. Still further : if you proscribe the exercise of this atrocious wor
ship, would you allow the doctrine to be taught which preaches as holy and salu
tary the practice of human sacrifices ? No ; for that would be permitting the
teaching of murder. Very well, but you must acknowledge that this is a doc
trine with respect to which you have a right to be, and are obliged to be, intole
rant. Let us pursue our subject. You are aware, no doubt, of the sacrifices
offered in antiquity to the goddess of Love, and the infamous worship which
was paid to her in the temples of Babylon and Corinth. If such a worship
reappeared among you, would you tolerate it ? No ; for it is contrary to the
rjaored laws of modesty. Would you allow the doctrine on which it was based
to be taught ? No ; for the same reason. This, then, i« another case in which
you believe you have the right and the obligation to violate the consciences of
others; and the only reason you can assign for it ;s, that you are compelled to
do so by your own conscience. Moreover, suppose that some men, over-excited
by reading the Bible, desired to establish a new Christianity, in imitation of
Mathew of Haarlem or John of Leyd^.n; suppose that these sectaries began to
propagate their doctrines, to assemble together in bodies, and that their fanati
cal declamation seduced a portion of *he people, would you tolerate this new
religion? No; for these men might renew the bloody scenes of Germany in
*Jie 16th century, when. In thf name of God, and to fulfil, as they said, the
•>rder of the Most Hignj the Anabaptists invaded all property, destroyed all
existing power, and spread everywhere desolation and death. This would be
«) act with as much justice as prudence; but you cannot deny that you would
thereby commit an act of intolerance. What, then, becomes of universal tole
ration, thyt pniwjiple so evident, so predominant, if you are compelled at every
step to Hij'it, and I will say more, to lay it aside, and act in a way diametrically
oppo'-itt1 to ic? You will say that the security of the state, the good order of
society, and public morality compel you to act in this way. But then, what
sort of a principle is it that, in certain cases, is in opposition to the interests of
morality and to society, and to the safety of tile state? Do you think that thf.
men against whom you declaim did not intend also to protect these interests,
by acting with that intolerance which is so revolting to you?

It has been acknowledged at all times and in all countries, as an incontestable
principle, that the public authority has, in certain cases, the right of prohibiting

B

398 PRC TESTANTTSM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

certain acts, in- violation of the consciences of individuals who claim the right of
performing them. If the constant testimony of history were not enough, at
least the dialogue which we have just held ought to convince us of this truth;
we have seen that the most ardent advocates of tolerance may well be compelled,
in certain cases, to be intolerant. They would be obliged to be so in the name
of humanity, of modesty, of public order; universal toleration, then, with respect
io doctrines and religions — that toleration which is proclaimed as thev duty of
every government — is an error; it is a theory which cannot be put in practice.
We have clearly shown that intolerance has always been, and still is, a prin
ciple recognised by all governments, and the application of which, more or less
indulgent or severe, depends on circumstances, and above all, on the particular
point of view in which the government considers things.

A great question of right now presents itself — a question which seems, at first
sight, to require to be solved by condemning all intolerance, both with respect to
doctrines and acts; but which, when thoroughly examined, leads to a very different
result. If we grant that the mind is incapable of completely removing the diffi
culty by means of direct reasoning, it is not the less certain that indirect means,
and the reasoning called ad absurdum, are here sufficient to show us the truth,
at least as far as it is necessary for us to know it as a guide for human prudence,
alway? uncertain. The question is this: " By what right do you hinder a man
from professing a doctrine, and acting in conformity with it, if he is convinced
that it is true, and that he only fulfils his duty, or exercises a right, by acting
as it prescribes?" In order to prevent the prohibition being vain and ridicu
lous, there must be a penalty attached to it; now, if you inflict this penalty,
you punish a man who, according to his own conscience, is innocent. Punish-
ment by the hand of justice supposes culpability ; and no one is culpable with
out being so first in his conscience. Culpability has its root in the conscience ;
and we cannot be responsible for the violation of a law, unless that law has ad
dressed us through our conscience. If our conscience tells us that an action
is bad, we cannot perform it, whatever may be the injunctions of the law which
prescribes it; on the contrary, if conscience tells us that an action is a duty, we
cannot omit it, whatever may be the prohibitions of the law. This is, in a few
words, and in all its force, the whole argument that can be alleged against intole
rance in regard to doctrines and facts emanating from them. Let us now see
what is the real value of these observations, apparently so conclusive.

It is apparent that the admission of this principle would render impossible
the punishment of any political crime. Brutus, when plunging his dagger into
the heart of Caesar; Jacques Clement, when he assassinated Henry III., acted,
no doubt, under the influence of an excitement of mind, which made them view
their attempts as deeds of heroism ; and yet, if they had both been brought be
fore a tribunal, would you have thought them entitled to impunity — the one on
account of his love of country, and the other on account of his zeal for religion ?
Most political crimes are committed under a conviction of doing well; and I do
not speak merely of those times of trouble, when men of parties the most op
posed are fully persuaded that they have right on their side. Conspiracies con
trived against governments in times of peace are generally the work of some
individuals who look upon them as illegal and tyrannical ; when working to
overthrow them, they are acting in conformity with their own principles.
Judges punish them justly when they inflict on them the penalties appointed
by legislators ; and yet, neither legislators when they decree the penalty, noi
the judges when they inflict it, are, or can be, ignorant of the condition of
mind of the delinquent who, has violated the law. It may be said, that compas
sion and indulgence with respect to political crimes increase every day, for these
n-asons. I shall reply, that if we lay down the principle that human justice
b.-is not the right to punish, when the delinquent acts according to his con vie-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 198»

tion, we inu: t not only mitigate our punishments, but even abolish them. In
this case, capital punishment would be a real murder, a fine a robbery, and other
penalties so many acts of violence. I shall remark in passing, that it is not
true that severity towards political crimes diminishes as much as it is said to
do ; the history of Europe of late years affords us some proofs to the contrary.
We do not now see those cruel punishments which were in use at other times ;
but that is not owing to the conscience of the criminal being considered by the
judge, but to the improvement of manners, which, being everywhere diffused,
has necessarily influenced penal legislation. It is extraordinary that so much
severity has been preserved in laws relating to political crimes, when so great a
number of legislators among the different nations of Europe knew well that they
themselves, at other times, had committed the same crimes. And there is no
doubt that more than one man, in the discussion of certain penal laws, has
inclined to indulgence, from the presentiment that these very laws might one
day apply to himself. The impunity of political crimes would bring about the
subversion of social order, by rendering all government impossible. Without
dwelling longer on the fatal results which this doctrine would have, let us ob
serve, that the benefit of impunity in favor of the illusions of conscience would
not be due to political crimes alone, but would be applicable aLjO to those of an
ordinary kind. Offences against property are crimes of this nature ; and yet
we know that many at former periods regarded, and that unfortunately some
still regard, property as a usurpation and an injustice. Offences against the
sanctity of marriage are ordinarily considered crimes ; and yet have there not
been sects in whose sight marriage was unlawful, and others who have desired,
and still desire, a community of women? The sacred laws of modesty and
respect for innocence have alike been regarded by some sects as an unjust
infringement of the liberty of man; to violate these laws, therefore, was a
meritorious action. At the time when the mistaken ideas and blind fanaticism
of the men who professed these principles were undoubted, would any one have
been found to deny the justice of the chastisement which was inflicted on them
when, in pursuance of their doctrines, they committed a crime, or even when
they had the audacity to diffuse their fatal maxims in society ?

If it were unjust to punish the criminal for acting according to his conscience,
all imaginable crimes would be permitted to the atheist, the fatalist, the discipla
of the doctrine of private interest; for by destroying, as they do, the basis of
all morality, these men do not act against their consciences ; they have none.
If such an argument were to hold good, how often would we have reason to
charge tribunals with injustice, when they inflict any punishment on men of
this class. By what right, we would say to magistrates, do you punish thia
man, who, not admitting the existence of Grod, does not acknowledge himself
culpable in his own eyes, or consequently in yours? You have made a law, by
virtue of which you punish him ; but this law has no power over the conscience
of this man, for you are his equals ; and he does not acknowledge the existence
of any superior, to give you the power of controlling his liberty. By what right
do you punish another, who is convinced that all his actions are the effect of neces
sary causes, that free-will is a chimera, and who, in the action which you charge
or him AS a crime, believes that he had no more power of restraining himself
than the wild beast, when he throws himself upon the prey before his eyes, or
upon any other animal that excites his fury ? With what justice do you punisb
him, who is persuaded that all morality is a lie ; that there is no other principle
than individual interest; that good and evil are nothing but this interest, well
or ill understood ? If you make him undergo any punishment, it will not be
because he is culpable in his own conscience ; you will punish him for being
deceived in his calculation, for having ill-understood the probable result of the
action which he was about to commit. Such are the ncoessarv and inevitable

200 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WI'xH CATHOLICITY.

deductions from the doctrine, which refuses to the public authority the powei ft
punishing crimes committed in consequence of an error of the mind.

But I shall be told that the right of punishment only extends *,o actions, and
not to doctrines ; that actions ought to be subject to the law, but that doctrines
are entitled to unbounded liberty. Do you mean doctrines shut up in the mind
and not outwardly manifested ? It is clear that not only the right, but also the
possibility of punishing them is wanting, for God alone can tell the secrets of
the heart of man. If avowed doctrines are meant, then the principle is false;
and we have just shown that those who maintain it in theory, find it impossible
to reduce it to practice. In fine, we shall be told that, however absurd in it8
results may be the doctrine which we have been combating, it is still impossible
to justify the punishment of an action which was ordered or authorized by the
conscience of the man who committed it. How is this difficulty to be solved ?
How is this great obstacle to be removed ? Is it lawful in any case to treat as
culpable the. man who is not so at the tribunal of his own conscience ?

Although this question seems entirely to turn upon some point on which men
of all opinions are agreed, there is nevertheless a wide difference in this respect
between Catholics on one side and unbelievers and Protestants on the other.
The first lay it down as an incontestable principle, that, there are errors of the
understanding which are faults; the others, on the contrary, think, that all
errors of the understand '!ny are innocent. The first consider error in regard to
great moral and religious truths, as one of the gravest offences which man can
commit against God ; their opponents look upon errors of this kind with great
indulgence, and they ought to do so in order to be consistent. Catholics admit
the possibility of invincible ignorance with respect to some very important
truths; but with them this possibility is limited to certain circumstances, out of
which they declare man to be culpable : their opponents constantly extol liberty
of thought, without any other restriction than that imposed by the taste of each
one in particular ; they constantly affirm that man is free to hold the opinions
which he thinks proper; they have gone so far as to persuade their followers
that there are no culpable errors or opinions, that man is not obliged to search
.nto the secret recesses of his soul, to make sure that there are no secret causes
which induce him to reject the truth ; they have in the end monstrously con
founded physical with moral liberty of thought; they have banished from
opinions the ideas of lawful and unlawful, and have given men to understand
that such ideas are not applicable to thought. That is to say, in the order of
ideas, they have confounded right with fact, declaring, in this respect, the use-
lessness and incompetency of all laws, divine and human. Senseless men ! as
if it were possible for that which is most noble and elevated in human nature
to be exempt from all rule ; as if it were possible for the element which makes
man the king of the creation, to be exempted from concurring in the ineffable
harmony of all parts of the universe with themselves and with God ; as if this
harmony could exist, or even be conceived in man, unless it were declared to be
the first of human obligations to adhere constantly to truth.

This is one 01 the profound reasons which justify the Catholic Church, when
she considers the sin of heresy as one of the greatest that man can commit.
You, who smile, with pity and contempt at these words, (he sin of heresy ; you,
who consider this doctrine as the invention of priests to rule over consciences,
by retrenching the liberty of thought ; by what right do you claim the powei
of , condemning heresies which are opposed to your orthodoxy? By what right
do y >u condemn those societies that profess opinions hostile to property, public
order, and the existence of authority? If the thought of man is free, if you
cannot attempt to restrain it without violating sacred rights, if it is an absurdity
and a contradiction to wish to oblige a man to act against his conscience, or dis
obey its dictates — Thy do you interfere with those men who desire to destroy

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 201

the existing state of society? Why baffle, why oppose those dark conspiracies,
which, from time to time, send one of their members to assassinate a king ?
You invoke your convictions to declare unjust and cruel the intolerance which
has been practised at certai" times against your enemies; but you must remem
ber that such societies and such men can also invoke their convictions. You
say that the doctrines of the Church are human inventions ; they say that the
doctrines prevailing in society are also human inventions. You say that the
ancient social order was a monopoly; they say the present social order is a
monopoly. In your eyes, the ancient authorities were tyrannical ; in theirs the
present ones are so. You pretended to destroy what existed, in order to found
new institutions conducive to the good of humanity ; to-day these men hold the
same language. You have proclaimed holy the war which was waged against
ancient power ; they proclaim holy the war against present power. When you
availed yourselves of the means which offered themselves, you pretended that
necessity rendered them legitimate ; they declare to be not less legitimate the
only means which they possess, that of combinations, of preparing for their
opportunity, and of hastening it by assassinating great men. You have pre
tended to make all opinions respected, even atheism, and you have taught that
nobody has a right to prevent your acting in conformity with your principles ;
but the fanatics in question have also their horrible principles and their dreadful
convictions. Do you require a proof of this ? See them amid the gayety of
public celebrations, glide, pale and gloomy, among the joyful multitude, choose
the fitting moment to cast desolation over a royal family, and cover a nation
with mourning, while they accumulate on their own heads the public execration,
certain, moreover, of finishing their lives on the scaffold. But our adversaries
will say, such convictions are inexcusable. Yours are so also. All the differ
ence is, that you have contrived your ambitious and fatal systems amid ease and
pleasure, perhaps in opulence, and under the shadow of power, while they have
conceived their abominable doctrines in the bosom of obscurity, poverty, misery,
and despair.

Indeed, the inconsistency of some men is shocking to the last degree. IV
ridicule all religions, to decry the spirituality and immortality of the soul, ana
.the existence of God, to overturn all morality, and sap its deepest foundations,
all this they have considered excusable, and we may even say, worthy of praise ;
moreover, the writers who have undertaken this fatal task are worthy of apo
theosis ; men must expel the Divinity from his temples to place there the names
and busts of the leaders of their schools ; under the vaults of splendid basilicas)
where repose the ashes of Christians awaiting the resurrection, they must raise
the mausoleum of Voltaire and Rousseau, in order that future generations, when
they descend into their dark and sileit abodes, may receive the inspirations of
their genius. But have they, then, a right to complain that property, and
domestic life, and social order are attacked ? Property is sacred ; but is it
more sacred than God ? However great may be the importance of the truths
relating to the family and to society, are they of a superior order to the eternal
principles of morality, or rather, are they any thing more than the application
of these principles ?

But let us resume the thread of our discourse. When the principle, that
there are culpable errors, is once established (a principle which in practice, if
not in theory, must be received by all men, but which Catholicity alone cau
logically maintain in theory), it is easy to see the reason of the punishments
which human power decrees against the propagation and tenchinp of certaiL
doctrines ; and we can understand why it is legitimate to punish, without consi-
tbring tin. conviction that animated the culprit, the actions which are the result
of his doctrines. The law shows that this mortal error has existed, or can exist ;
but in this case it declares the error itself to be culpable; and if man adduce?
26

202 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLKLTY

the testimony of his own conscience, the law reminds him that it is bin duty tn
rectify his conscience. Such is, in truth, the foundation of a legislation which
has appeared so unjust ; a foundation which it is necessary to point out, in
order to vindicate a great many human laws from a deep disgrace ; for it would
be a great disgrace to claim the right of punishing a man who was really inno
cent Such an absurd right is so far from belonging to human justice, that it
does not belong even to God. The infinite justice of God would cease to be
what it is, if it could punish the innocent.

Perhaps another origin will be assigned for the right which governments pos
sess, of punishing the propagation of certain doctrines and the actions com
mitted in consequence of them, when the criminal has acted from the deepest
conviction. " Governments," it may be said, " act in the name of society,
which, like every being, possesses the right of self-defence. There are certain
doctrines which menace its existence ; it has, therefore, of necessity and right,
the power of resisting those who promulgate them." Such a reason, however
plausible it may appear, is liable to this grave objection, that it destroys at one
blow the idea of punishment and justice. To wound an aggressor in self-de
fence is not to chastise but to resist him. If we consider society in this point
of view, the criminal led to punishment will no longer be a real criminal, but
the unfortunate victim of a rash and unequal struggle. The voice of the judge
condemning him will no longer be the august voice of justice; his sentence
will only be the act of society avenging the attack made upon it. The wore
punishment will then assume quite a different meaning ; the gradations of it
will depend entirely upon calculations, and not on justice. We must remem
ber this ; if we suppose that society, by virtue of the right of self-defence,
.nflicts a punishment upon the man whom it considers quite innocent, it no
longer judges or condemns, but fights and struggles. That which is perfectly
suitable with respect to the relations between one society and another, is in n
way suitable to society in its relations with individuals. It then appears like a
combat between a giant and a pigmy. The giant takes the pigmy in his hand,
and crushes him against a stone.

The doctrine which I have just explained evidently shows the value of the
much vaunted principle of universal toleration; it has been demonstrated that
that principle is as impracticable in fact as it is unsustainable in theory; con
sequently all the accusations made against the Catholic Church on the subject
of intolerance are overturned. It has been clearly shown that intolerance is in
some measure the right of all public power ; this has always been acknowledged ;
t is acknowledged still, generally speaking, when philosophers, the partisans
of tolerance, attain to power. No doubt, governments have a thousand times
abused this principle ; no doubt, more than once the truth has been persecuted
in virtue of it; but-what do men not abuse? Their duty, then, as good philo
sophers, was not to establish principles that cannot be sustained, and are ex-
trem ' y dangerous; hot to declaim to satiety against the times and institutions
which have preceded us ; but to endeavor to propagate sentiments of mildness
and indulgence, and, above all, not to impugn important truths, without which
society cannot be sustained, and whicl} cannot be destroyed without abandoning
the world to the empire of force, and, consequently, to despotism and tyranny.

Men have attacked dogmas ; but they have not been willing to see that mo
rality was intimately connected with dogmas, and that it was itself a dogma. By
proclaiming unbounded liberty of thought, they have asserted the impeccability
f the mind ; error has ceased t<) figure among the faults of which men can be
guilty. They have forgotten that, in order to will, it was necessary to know ;
and that to will riyhtly, it was necessary to know truly. If we examine the
greater part of the errors of our hearts, we shall see that thoy have their source
in a misunderstanding; is it possible, then, that it shoul^ -»ct be the duty of

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICl!"/. 208

man to preseive his mind from error? But since it has been said that opinions
are of little importance, that man is free to choose such as please him., even in
matters of religion and morality, truth has lost its value ; its intrinsic worth is
no longer what it was in the eyes of man ; and too many consider themselves
exempt from attempting to attain it, — a deplorable condition of mind, which u
one of the greatest evils afflicting society. (25)

CHAPTER XXXVI.

ON THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

I FIND myself naturally led to make a few observations on the intolerance
certain Catholic princes, on the Inquisition, and in particular on that of Spa, i.
I must make a rapid examination of the charges against Catholicity on accou it
of its conduct during the last centuries. The dungeons, the burnings of t\e
Inquisition, and the intolerance of some Catholic princes, have furnished the
enemies of the Church with one of their most effective arguments in depreci
ating her, and rendering her the object of odium and hatred ; and it must be
allowed that they have, in attacks of this kind, many advantages, which give
them good prospects of success. Indeed (as we have said above, for the gene
rality of readers, who, without undertaking to examine things to the bottom,
naivety allow themselves to be led away by a subtle writer ; as we have said,
for all those who have sensitive hearts, and are prompt to pity the unfortunate),
what is more likely to excite indignation than the exhibition of dark dungeons,
instruments of torture, mn-btnitos, and burnings ? Imagine what effect must be
produced, amid our toleration, our gentle manners, our humane penal codes, by
the sudden exhibition of the severities, the cruelties of another age ; the whole
exaggerated and grouped into one picture, where are shown all the melancholy
scenes which occurred in different places, and were spread over a long period of
time. They take care to remind us that all this was done in the name of the
(rod of peace and love ; thereby the contrast is rendered more vivid, the ima
gination is excited, the heart becomes indignant; and the result is, that the
clergy, magistrates, kings, and popes of those remote times, appear like a troop
of executioners, whose pleasure consists in tormenting and desolating the human
race. Writers, who have ventured to act in this way, have certainly not added
to their reputation for delicacy of conscience. There is a rule which orators
and writers ought never to forget, viz. that it is not allowable to excite the pas
sions, until they have convinced the reason, unless it had been convinced before.
Besides, there is a degree of bad faith in appealing to the feelings with respect
to matters which ought to be examined by the light of reason alone, if they are
to be examined properly. In such a case we ought not to begin by moving, but
by convincing; to do otherwise is to deceive the reader.

I am not going to write the history of the Inquisition, or of the different
systems which various countries have adopted with respect to religious intole
rance ; this would be impossible within my narrow limits ; besides, it would
lead me away from the object of my work. Ought we to draw from the Inqui
sition in general, that of Spain in particular, or from the greater or less intole
rance of the legislation of some countries, an accusation against Catholicity ?
Can it, in this respect, be put in comparison with Protestantism ? Such are the
questions I have to examine.

Three things at first present themselves to the eyes of the observer: l*f,
the legislation and institutions proceeding from the principle of intole
rance; 2d, the use which has been made of this legislation and these institu
tions , 3d, the intc lerant acts which have been committed illegally. With

204 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

respect to the latter, I must say at once that they have nothing to do wth ths
question. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and other atrocities committed in
the name of religion, ought not to trouble the apologists of religion • to render
her responsible for all that has been done in her name, would be to act with
manifest injustice. Man is endowed with so strong and lively a sense of the
excellence of virtue, that he endeavors to cover the greatest crimes with her
mantle ; — would it be reasonable to banish virtue from the earth on that account?
There are, in the history of mankind, terrible periods, where a fatal giddiness
seizes, upon the mind ; rage, inflamed by disorder, blinds the intellect and
changes the heart ; evil is called good, and good evil ; the most horrible at
tempts are made under the most respectable names. Historians and philoso
phers, in treating of such periods, should know what ought to be their line of
conduct; strictly accurate in the narration of such facts, they ought to beware
of drawing from them a judgment as to the prevailing ideas and institutions.
Society then resembles a man in a state of delirium; we should ill judge of the
ideas, character, and conduct of such a man, from what he says and does in that
deplorable condition. What party, in those calamitous times, can boast of not
having committed great crimes ? If we fix our eyes on the period just men
tioned, do we not see the leaders of both parties assassinated by treason ? Ad
miral Coligny died by the hands of the assassins who began the massacre of St.
Bartholomew; but the Duke of Cruise had been also assassinated by Poltrot,
before Orleans. Henry III. was assassinated by Jacques Clement ; but this
same Henry III. had treacherously murdered the other Duke of Guise in the
eon-id* rs of his palace, and his brother, the Cardinal, in the tower of Moulins ;
this same Henry III. had taken part in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. We
see atrocities committed by the Catholics; but did not their opponents also com
mit them ? Let us throw a veil over these catastrophes, over these afflicting
proofs of the misery and perversity of the human heart. The tribunal of the
Inquisition, considered in itself, is only the application to a particular case of
that doctrine of intolerance, which, to a greater or less degree, is that of every
existing power. Thus, we have only to examine the character of that particu
lar application, and see whether its enemies are correct in their charges against
it. In the first place, we must observe that those who extol antiquity, sadly
falsify history, if they "pretend that intolerance only appeared after the time
when, according to them, the Church had degenerated from her primitive purity.
As for myself, I see that from the earliest times, when the Church began to
exert political influence, heresy began to figure in the codes as a crime ; and I
have never been able to discover a period of complete tolerance. I must here
make an important remark, which shows one of the causes of the rigor dis
played in later centuries. The Inquisition was first directed against the Mani-
chean heretics; that is, against the sectaries who at all times were treated with
the greatest severity. In the llth century, when the punishment of fire had
not yet been applied to the crime of heresy, the Manicheans were excepted from
this rule. Even in the time of the Pagan emperors, these sectaries were treated
with extreme rigor. In the year 296, we see Diocletian and Maximilian, by an
edict, condemning to different punishments the Manicheans who had not ab
jured their dogmas, and consigning their leaders to the fire. These sectaries
have always been considered as great criminals; and to punish them has al
ways been judged necessary, not only for the interests of religion, but even for
the morals and good order of society. This was one of the causes of the rigor
of the Inquisition at its commencement : if we add to this, the turbulent cha
racter of the sects which, under various names, arose in the llth, 12th, and
loth centuries, we shall have two of the causes that contributed to produce those
•scenes which now we can scarcely credit. In studying the history of those
centuries, and fixing our attention on the troubles and disasters which ravaged

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 205

the south of France, we clearly see that it was not a dispute as to a particular
dogma, but that the whole social system was comprjmised. The sectaries of
those times were precursors of those of the 16th century ; with this difference,
that the latter, if we except the frantic Anabaptists, were less democratic, less
apt to address the multitude. Amid the cruelties of those times, when long
ages of violence and revolution had given an excessive preponderance to brute
force, what could be expected from governments incessantly menaced vith suca
imminent danger ? It is clear that the laws, and their application, must savoii!
)f the times.

As to the Spanish Inquisition, which was only an extension of that which
was established in other countries, we must divide it, with respect to its dura
tion, into three great periods ; — we omit the time of its existence in the king
dom of Aragon, before its introduction into Castille. The first of these compre
hends uhe time when the Inquisition was principally directed against the relapsed
Jews and Moors, from the day of its installation under the Catholic sovereigns,
till the middle of the reign of Charles V. The second extends from the time
when it began to concentrate its efforts to prevent the introduction of Protest
antism into Spain, until that danger entirely ceased ; that is, from the middle
of the reign of Charles V. till the coining of the Bourbons. The third and last
period is that when the Inquisition was limited to repress infamous crimes, and
exclude the philosophy of Voltaire ; this period was continued until its abolition
in the beginning of the present century. It is clear that, the institution being
successively modified according to circumstances at these different epochs, —
a1 Chough it always remained fundamentally the same, — the commencement and
termination of each of these three periods which we have pointed out cannot be
precisely marked ; nevertheless, these three periods really existed in its history,
and present us witli very different characters.

Every one knows the peculiar circumstances in which the Inquisition was
established in the time of the Catholic sovereigns; yet it is worthy of remark,
that the Bull of establishment was solicited by Queen Isabella ; that is, by one
of the most distinguished sovereigns in our history, — by that queen who still,
after three centuries, preserves the respect and admiration of all Spaniards. Isa
bella, far from opposing the will of the people in this measure, only realized the
national wish. The Inquisition was established chiefly against the Jews ; the
Papal Bull had been sent in 1478 ; now, before the Inquisition published its
first edict, dated Seville, in 1481, the Cortes of Toledo, in 1480, had adopted
severe measures on the subject. To prevent the injury which the intercourse
between Jews and Christians might occasion to the Catholic faith, the Cortes
had ordered that unbaptized Israelites should be obliged to wear a distinctive
mark, dwell in separate quarters, called Juiveries, and return there before night.
Anciem regulations against them were renewed ; the professions of doctor,
surgeon, shopkeeper, barber, and tavern-keeper, were forbidden them. Intole
rance was, therefore, popular at that time. If the Inquisition be justified in the
eyes of friends to monarchy, by conformity with the will of kings, it has au
equal claim to be so in the eyes of lovers of democracy.

No doubt the heart is grieved at reading the excessive severities exercised at
that time against the Jews ; but must there not have been very grave causes to
provoke such excesses ? The danger which the Spanish monarchy, not yet well
established, would have incurred if the Jews, then very powerful on account of
their riches and their alliances with the most influential families, had been
allowed to act without restraint, has been pointed out as one of the most important
of these causes. It was greatly to be feared that they wo.uid league with the
Moors against the Christians. The respective positions of the three nations
rendered this league natural : this is the reason why it was looked upon as
accessary to break a power which was capable of GOTO promising anew the inde-

S

C .'ROTESTANTIBM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

pendcfice of the Christians. It is necessary also to observe, that at the time when
the Inquisition was established, the war of eight hundred years against the Moors
was not yet finished. The Inquisition was projected before 1474 ; it was estab
lished in 1480, and the conquest of Granada did not take place till 1492. Thua
it was founded at the time when the obstinate struggle was about to be decided ;
it, was yet to be known whether the Christians would remain masters of the
whole peninsula, or whether the Moors should retain possession of one of the
• most fertile and beautiful provinces ; whether these enemies, shut up in Granada,
should preserve a position, excellent for their communication with Africa, and
a means for all the attempts which, at a later period, the Crescent might bt
disposed to make against us. Now, 'the power of the Crescent was very great,
as was clearly shown by its enterprises against the rest of Europe in the next
century. In such emergencies, after ages of fighting, and at the moment which
was to decide the victory for ever, have combatants ever been known to conduct
themselves with moderation and mildness? It cannot be denied that the system
of repression pursued in Spain, with respect to the Jews and the Moors, was
inspired, in great measure, by the instinct of self-preservation : we can easily
believe that the Catholic princes had this motive before them when they decided
on asking for the establishment of the Inquisition in their dominions. The
danger was not imaginary : it was perfectly real. In order to form an idea of
the turn which things might have taken if some precaution had not been
adopted, it is enough to recollect the insurrections of the last Moors in later
times.

Yet it would be wrong, in this affair, to attribute all to the policy of royalty ;
and it is necessary here to avoid exalting too much the foresight and designs of
men ; for my part, I am inclined to think that Ferdinand and Isabella naturally
followed the generality of the nation, in whose eyes the Jews were odious when
they persevered in their creed, and suspected when they embraced the Christian
religion. Two causes contributed to this hatred and animadversion. First, the
excited state of religious feeling then general in all Europe, and especially in
Spain ; 2d, the conduct by which the Jews had drawn upon themselves the
public indignation.

The necessity of restraining the cupidity of the Jews, for the sake of the inde
pendence of the Christians, was of ancient date in Spain : the old assemblies of
Toledo had attempted it. In the following centuries the evil reached its height \
a great part of the riches of the peninsula had passed into the hands of the
Jews, and almost all the Christians found themselves their debtors. Thence
the hatred of the people against the Jews ; thence the frequent troubles which
agitated some towns of the peninsula ; thence the tumults which more than once
were fatal to the Jews, and in which their blood flowed in abundance. It was
difficult for a people accustomed for ages to set themselves free by force of arms,
to resign themselves peacefully and tranquilly to the lot prepared for them by
the artifices and exactions of a strange race, whose name, moreover, bore the
recollection of a terrible malediction.

In later times, an immense number of Jews were converted to the Christian
religion ; but the hatred of the people was not extinguished thereby, and mistrust
followed these converts into their new state . It is very probable that a great
number of these conversions were hardly sincere, as they were partly caused by
the sad position in which the Jews who continued in Judaism were placed. In
default of conjectures founded on reason in this respect, we will regard as a
sufficient corroboration of our opinion, the multitude of Judaizing Christians who
were discovered as soon as care was taken to find out those who hii.1! beta guilty
of apostacy. However this may be, it is certain that the distinction between
new and old Christians was introduced ; the latter denomination was a title of
honor, and the former a mark of ignominy ; the converted Jews were contemptu-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

ously called marranos, — impure men, pigs. With more or less foundation, thej
were accused of horrible crimes. In their dark assemblies they committed, it
was said, atrocities which could hardly be believed, for the honor of humanity.
For example, it was said that, to revenge themselves on the Christians and in
contempt of religion, they crucified Christian children, taking care to choose for
the purpose the greatest day among Christian solemnities. There is the often-
repeated history of the knight of the house of Guzman, who, being hidden one
night in the house of a Jew whose daughter he loved, saw a child crucified at
the time when the Christians celebrated the institution of the sacrifice of the
Eucharist. Besides infanticide, there were attributed to the Jews, sacrileges,
poisonings, conspiracies, and other crimes. That these rumors were generally
believed by the people is proved by the fact, that the Jews were forbidden by
law to exercise the professions of doctor, surgeon, barber, and tavern-keeper;
this shows what degree of confidence was placed in their morality. It is useless
to stay to examine the foundations for these sinister accusations. We are not
ignorant how far popular credulity will go, above all when it is under the influ
ence of excited feelings, which makes it view all things in the .same light. It is
enough for us to know that these rumors circulated everywhere and with credit,
to understand what must have been the public indignation against the Jews, and
consequently how natural it was that authority, yielding to the impulse of the
general mind, should be urged to treat them with excessive rigor.

The situation in which the Jews were placed is sufficient to show, that they
mio-ht have attempted to act in concert to resist the Christians; what they did
after the death of St. Peter Arbues shows what they were capable of doing oc
other occasions. The funds necessary for the accomplishment of the murder,
the pay of the assassins, and the other expenses required for the plot, were col
lected by means of voluntary contributions imposed on themselves by all the
Jews of Aragon. Does not this show an advanced state of organization, which
might have become fatal if it had not been watched.

In alluding to the death of St. Peter Arbues, I wish to make an observation
on what has been said on this subject, as proving the unpopularity of the estab
lishment of the [nquisition in Spain. What more evident proof, we shall be
told, can you have than the assassination of the Inquisitor ? Is it not a sure
sign that the indignation of the people was at its height, and that they were quite
opposed to the Inquisition ? Would they otherwise have been hurried into such
excesses? If by 'the people' you mean the Jews and their descendants, I will
not deny that the establishment of the Inquisition was indeed very odious to
them; but it was not so with the rest of the nation. The event we are speaking
of gave rise to a circumstance which proves just the reverse. When the report of
the death of the Inquisitor was spread through the town, the people made a fearful
tumult to avenge his death. They spread through the town, they went in crowds
in pursuit of the new Uhristians, so that a bloody catastrophe would have ensued,
had not the young Archbishop of Saragossa, Alphonsus of Aragon, presented him
self to the people on horseback, and calmed them by the assurance that all the
rigrr of the laws should fall on the heads of the guilty. Was the Inquisition
as mpopular as it has been represented; and will it be said that its adversaries
v re the majority of the people? WUy, then, could not the tumult at Saragossa
Lave been avoided in spite of all the precautions which were no doubt taken by
the conspirators, at that time very powerful by their riches and influence !'

At the time of the greatest rigor against the Judaizing Christians, there is a
fact worthy of attention. Persons accused, or threatened with the pursuit of the
Inquisition, took every means to escape the action of that tribunal : they left
the soil of Spain and went to Rome. Would those who imagine that Rome has
always been the hotbed of intolerance, the firebrand of persecution, have ima
gined this ? The number of causes commenced by the Inquisition, and summoned

208 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

from Spain to Rome, is countless, during the first fifty years of the existence
of that tribunal; and it must be added, that Rome always inclined to the side
of indulgence. I do not know that it would be possible to cite one accused
person who> by appealing to Rome, did not ameliorate his condition. The his
tory of the Inquisition at that time is full of contests between the Kings and
Popes ; and we constantly find, on the part of the Holy See, a desire to restrain
the Inquisition within the bounds of justice and humanity. The line of con
duct prescribed by the court of Rome was not always followed as it ought t.o
have been ; thus we see the Popes compelled to receive a multitude of appeals,
and mitigate the lot that would have befallen the appellants, if their cause had
been definitely decided in Spain. We also see the Pope name the judge of
appeal, at the solicitation of the Catholic sovereigns, who desired that causes
should be finally decided in Spain : the first of these judges was Dr. Inigo
Manrique, Archbishop of Seville. Nevertheless, at the end of a short time, the
same Pope, in a Bull of the 2d of August, 1483, said that he had received new
appeals, made by a great number of the Spaniards of Seville, who had not dared
to address themselves to the judge of appeal for fear of being arrested. Such <vaa
then the excitement of the public mind; such was, at that time, the necessity
of preventing injustice, or measures of undue severity. The Pope added, that
some of those who had had recourse to his justice had already received the abso
lution of the Apostolical Penitentiary, and that others were about to receive it ;
he afterwards complained that indulgences granted to divers accused persons had
not been sufficiently respected at Seville ; in fine, after several other admoni
tions, he observed to Ferdinand and Isabella, that mercy towards the guilty was
more pleasing to God than the severity which it was desired to use ; and he
gave the example of the good Shepherd following the wandering sheep. He
ended by exhorting the sovereigns to treat with mildness those who voluntarily
confessed their faults, desiring them to allow them to reside at Seville, or in
some other place they might choose; and to allow them the enjoyment of their
property, as if they had not been guilty of the crime of heresy

Moreover, it is not to be supposed that the appeals admitted at Rome, and
by virtue of which the lot of the accused was improved, were founded on errors
of forra and injustice committed in the application of the law. If the accused
had recourse to Rome, it was not always to demand reparation for an injustice,
but because they were sure of finding indulgence. We have a proof of this in
the considerable number of Spanish refugees convicted at Rome of having
fallen into Judaism. Two hundred and fifty of them were found at one time ;
yet there was not one capital execution. Some penances were imposed on them,
and when they were absolved, they were free to return home, without the least
mark of ignominy. This took place at Rome in 1498.

It is a remarkable thing that the Roman Inquisition was never known to
pronounce the execution of capital punishment, although the Apostolic See was
occupied during that time by Popes of extreme rigor and severity in all that
relates to the civil administration. We find in all parts of Europe scaffolds
prepared to punish crimes against religion ; scenes which sadden the soul were
everywhere witnessed. Rome is an exception to the rule ; Rome, which it has
been attempted to represent as a monster of intolerance and cruelty. It is true,
that the Popes have not preached, like Protestants, universal toleration ; but
facts show the difference between the Popes and Protestants. The Popes,
armed with a tribunal of intolerance, have not spilled a drop of blood ; Protest
ants and philosophers have shed torrents. What advantage is it to the victim
to hear his executioners proclaim toleration ? It is adding the bitterness of sar
casm to his punishment. The conduct of Rome in the use which she made of
th<3 Inquisition, is the best apology of Catholicity against those who attempt to
Btiginitize her as barbarous and sanguinary. In truth, what is there in coin-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 209

mon between Catholicity and the excessive severity employed in this place 01
that, in the extraordinary situation in which many rival races were placed, in
the presence of danger which menaced one of them, or in the interest which the
kings had in maintaining the tranquillity gf their states, and securing their con
quests from all danger ? I will not enter into a detailed examination of the con
duct of the Spanish Inquisition with respect to Judaizing Christians ; and I am
far from thinking that the rigor which it employed againsi them was preferable
to the mildness recommended and displayed by the Popes. What I wish to
show here is, that rigor was the result of extraordinary circumstances, — the
effect of the national spirit, and of the severity of customs in Europe at that
time Catholicity cannot be reproached with excesses committed for these
different reasons. Still more, if we pay attention to the spirit which prevails
in all the instructions of the Popes relating to the Inquisition ; if we observe
their manifest inclination to range themselves on the side of mildness, and to
suppress the marks of ignominy with which the guilty, as well as their fami
lies, were stigmatized, we have a right to suppose that, if the Popes had not
feared to displease the kings too much, and to excite divisions which might
have been fatal, their measures would have been carried still further. If we
recollect the negotiations which took place with respect to the noisy affair of
the claims of the Cortes of Aragon, we shall see to which side the court of Rome
leaned.

As we are speaking of intolerance with regard to the Judaizers, let us say a
few words as to the disposition of Luther towards the Jews. Does it not seem
that the pretended reformer, the founder of independence of thought, the furi
ous declaimer against the oppression and tyranny of the Popes, should have
been animated with the most humane sentiments towards that people ? No
doubt the eulogists of this chieftain of Protestantism ought to think thus also.
I am sorry for them ; but history will not allow us to partake of this delusion
According to all appearances, if the apostate monk had found himself in the
place of Torquemada, the Judaizers would not have been in a better position.
What , ther., was the system advised by Luther, according to Seckendorf, one
of his apologists ? " Their synagogues ought to be destroyed, their houses
pulled down, their prayer-books, the Talmud, and even the books of the Old
Testament, to be taken from them ; their rabbis ought to be forbidden to teach,
and be compelled to gain their livelihood by hard labor." The Inquisition, at
least, did not proceed against the Jews, but against the Judaizers ; that is,
against those who, after being converted to Christianity, relapsed into their
errors, and added sacrilege to their apostacy, by the external profession of a
creed which they detested in secret, and which they profaned by the exercise
of their old religion. But Luther extended his severity to the Jews themselves;
so that, according to his doctrines, no reproach can be made against the sove
reign who expelled the Jews from their dominions.

The Moors and the Mooriscoes no less occupied the attention of the Inquisi
tion at that time; and all that has been said on the subject of the Jews may
be applied to them with some modifications. They were also an abhorred race
— a race which had been contended with for eight centuries. When they
retained their religion, the Moors inspired hatred; when they abjured it, mis
trust; the Popes interested themselves in their favor also in a peculiar manner.
We ought to remark a Bull issued in 1530, which is expressed in language
^uite evangelical : it is there said, that the ignorance of these nations is one of
the principal causes of their faults and errors; the first thing to be done to
render their conversion solid and sincere was, according to the recommendation
contained in this Bull, to endeavor to enlighten their minds with sound doctrine.

It will be said that the Pope granted to Charles V. the Bull which released
him from the oath taken in the Cortes of Saragossa in the year 1519; an oath,
27 »2

210 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

bv which he had engaged not to make any change with respect to the Moors j
whereby, it is said, the Emperor was enabled to complete their expulsion. But,
we must observe, that the Pope for a long time resisted that concession; and,
that if he at length complied with the wishes of the Emperor, it was only
because he thought that the expulsion of the Moors was indispensable to secure
the tranquillity of the kingdom. Whether this was true or not, the Emperor,
and not the Pope, was the better judge; the latter, placed at a great v distance,
could not know the real state of things in detail. Moreover, it was not the
Spanish monarch alone who thought so; it is related that Francis I., when a
prisoner at Madrid, one day conversing with Charles V., told him that tran
quillity would never be established in Spain, if the Moors and Mooriscoes were
not expelled.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

SECOND EPOCH OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

IT has been said that Philip II. founded a new Inquisition in Spain, more
terrible than that of the Catholic sovereigns; at the same time the Inquisition
of Ferdinand and Isabella receives a certain degree pf indulgence, which is
refused to that of their successors. At the very outset, we find an important
historical mistake in this assertion. Philip did not establish a new Inquisition ;
he maintained that which the Catholic sovereigns had left him, and which
Charles V., his father and predecessor, had particularly recommended to him
by will. The Committee of the Cortes of Cadiz, in the project for the abolition
of the tribunal of the Inquisition, excuses the conduct of the Catholic sove
reigns, and blames with severity that of Philip II. ; it attempts to make all the
fault and odium fall on that prince. An illustrious French writer, very recently
treating of this important question, has allowed himself to be led into the same
errors, with that candor which sometimes accompanies genius. " There were,"
Bays M. Lacordaire, " in the Spanish Inquisition, two solemn periods, which
must not be confounded; the one at the end of the fifteenth century, under
Ferdinand and Isabella, before the Moors were expelled from Granada, their
last asylum; the other, in the middle of the sixteenth, under Philip II., when
Protestantism threatened to propagate itself in Spain. The Committee of the
Cortes has perfectly distinguished these two epochs; and while it stigmatizes
the Inquisition of Philip II., expresses itself with moderation with respect to
that of Ferdinand and Isabella." After these words the writer quotes a text,
where it is affirmed that Philip II. was the real founder of the Inquisition ; if
that institution attained in the end to a high degree of power, it was owing, it
says, to the refined policy of that prince. We read, a little further on, that
Philip II. was the inventor of the auto-da-fe', to terrify heretics; and that the
first of these bloody spectacles was seen at Seville in 1559. (Memoirs pour U
retablissement de I' Ordre des Freres Precheurs, chap, vi.) Setting aside the
historical mistake with respect to the auto-da-fis, it is well known that neither
the sanbenitos nor the fagots were the invention of Philip II. Such mistakes
easily escape a writer who is satisfied with alluding to a fact incidentally; if we
bring forward this one, it is because it contains an accusation against a mo-
uarch to whom, for a long time, too little justice has been done. Philip II.
continued the work which had been begun by his predecessors; if they are
excused, he ought not to be treated with greater severity. Ferdinand end
Isabella directed the Inquisition against the apostate Jews; why could cot
Philip II. a\ail himself of it against Protestants? But I shall be told ho
abused his r ght and carried rigor to excess. Certainly there was not mor«

I ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 211

indulgence in the times of Ferdinand and Isabella. Are the numerous execu
tions at Seville and other places forgotten ? Or what Mariana says in his
history, and the public measures taken by the Popes for the purpose of check
ing the excessive severity? The words quoted against Philip II. are taken
from the work called La Liquicition sin mascura (the Inquisition unveiled,)
published in Spain in 1811. We may judge of the value of this authority,
when we know that the author of the book was distinguished till his death by
a deep hatred to the Spanish kings. The book bears the name of Nathauael
Jomtob; but the real author is a well-known Spaniard, who, in his latter writ
ings, seems to have undertaken to avenge, by his unbounded exaggerations and
furious invectives, all that he had previously attacked; a writer who assails,
with an intolerable partiality, all that presents itself before him — religion,
country, classes of society, individuals, and opinions — insulting and tearing to
pieces all, as if he had been seized with a sally of passion, and not even sparing
•the men of his own party. Is it, then, surprising that this writer regarded
Philip II. as Protestants and philosophers do, that is, as a monarch placed on
the earth for the disgrace and misfortune of humanity, — a monster of Machia
vellianism, anxious to diffuse darkness, in order to maintain himself in safety
in his cruelty and perfidy? I will not undertake to justify, on all points, th<
policy of Philip II. ; I will not deny that there are exaggerations in the eulo
giums which some Spanish writers have given to that prince. But, on the other
hand, it cannot be doubted, that Protestants and the political enemies of
Philip II. have ever been careful to denounce him. And do you know why
Protestants have done this ? It is because it was he who prevented Protestant
ism from penetrating into Spain; it was he who, at that period of agitation,
maintained the cause of Catholicity. Let us set aside the great events of the
rest of Europe, of which each one will judge as he pleases; let us limit our
selves to Spain. We do not fear to assert, that the introduction of Protestant
ism into that country was imminent and inevitable without the system which
he pursued. Whether Philip used the Inquisition for political purposes, in
certain cases, is not the question we have to examine here; but at least it must
be acknowledged that it was not a mere instrument of ambitious projects; it
was an institution strengthened and maintained in presence of an imminent
danger.

It appears, from the proceedings of the Inquisition at this time, that Pro
testantism began to spread in an incredible manner in Spain ; eminent ecclesiasr
tics, monks, nuns, seculars of distinction, in a word, individuals of the most
influential classes, were attached to the new errors. Could the efforts of Pro
testants to introduce their creed into Spain remain altogether unproductive,
when they employed every stratagem in their ardor to introduce their books?
They went so far as to place their prohibited writings in casks of Champagne
and Burgundy wine, with so much art as to deceive the custom-house men :
thus wrote the Spanish Ambassador at Paris.

To perceive the whole danger, it is enough to observe with attention the state
of minds in Spain at this time; besides, incontestable facts come in support of
conjectures. The Protestants, taking great care to declaim against abuses,
represented themselves as reformers, and labored to draw to their side all who
were animated by an ardent desire for reform. This desire for'reform had ex
isted for a long time in the Church ; but with some it was inspired by bad inten
tions ; in other words, the specious name of reform concealed the real intention
of many, which was to destroy. At the same time, with some sincere Catholics,
this desire, although pure in principle, went to imprudent zeal, and reached an
ill-regulated ardor. It is probable that such zeal, carried to too great an extent,
was, with many, changed into acrimony; thence a certain facility in receiving
the insidious suggestions of the enemies of the Church. Many people who had

212 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

begun with indiscreet zeal, perhaps fell into exaggeration, then into bitterness,
and finally into heresy. Spain was not exempt from this disposition ol mmd,
from whence the course of events might have drawn very bitter results, if Pro-
testantism had obtained any footing on our soil. We know that the Spaniards
at the Council of Trent distinguished themselves by their reforming zeal, and
their boldness in expressing their opinions. Let us remark, moreover, that reli
gious discord being once introduced into a country, minds are excited by dis
putes, they are irritated by frequent shocks, and it sometimes happens that
respectable men precipitate themselves into excesses which they would have
abhorred a short time before. It is difficult to say with precision what would
have happened if the rigor had been at all relaxed on this point. Certain it L,
that, when reading some passages of Luis Vives, of Arias Montanus, of Car-
ran za, and of the consultation of Melchior Cano, we can fancy we find, at the
bottom of their minds, a sort of disquietude and agitation, which may best be
compared to those heavy murmurings which announce from afar the commence
ment of a tempest.

The famous trial of the Archbishop of Toledo, Fray BartolomS de Carranza,
is one of the facts which are most frequently cited to show the arbitrary nature
of the proceedings of the Spanish Inquisition. We certainly cannot see without
emotion, shut up in prison for many years, one of the most learned men in
Europe, the Archbishop of Toledo, honored with the intimate confidence of
Philip II. and the Queen of England, allied in friendship with the most distin
guished men of the time, and known to all Christendom by the brilliant part
which he had played at the Council of Trent. The process lasted seventeen
years; and although the cause was carried to Rome, where the Archbishop
must have found powerful friends, a declaration of innocence in his favor could
not be obtained. Without staying to notice the many incidents of a cause so
loner and so complicated, without insisting on the more or less reason which the
discourses and writings of Carranza may have afforded for suspicions against his
faith I am quite certain, in my own mind, that, in his own conscience and be-
fore God, he was perfectly innocent. Here is a proof that places my opinion
beyond a doubt. A short time after the judgment was given, he fell ill ; his
malady was supposed to be mortal, and the sacraments were administered to
him. At the moment of receiving the Viaticum, in the presence of a large
concourse, he declared, in the most solemn manner, that he had never left the
Catholic faith, that his conscience acquitted him of all the accusations made
against him ; and he confirmed his declaration by calling to witness God, m
whose presence he was, whom he was about to receive under the most sacred
species, and before whose awful tribunal he was in a few moments to appear
This pathetic act drew tears from all present; all suspicions against him were dis
sipated as by a breath, and a new sympathy was added to that which his continued
misfortunes had excited. The Sovereign Pontiff did not doubt the sincerity of
the declaration, as a magnificent epitaph was placed upon his tomb, which cer
tainly would not have been allowed if there had been the least doubt of it. It
certainly would be rash to refuse to believe a declaration so explicit from the
mouth of such a man as Carranza, expiring, and in the presence of Jesus Christ

After having paid this tribute to the knowledge, virtues, and misfortunes of
Carranza, it remains for us to examine whether, whatever may have been the
purity of his conscience, it can be justly said that his trial was a perfidious
intrigue, carried on by envy and hatred. This is not the place to examine the
immense procedure in this case ; but since allusion has been made to it to con-
demn Philip II. and the adversaries of Carranza, I wish, in my turn, to make
some observations, to endeavor to place the affair in its proper light. In i tno
first place is it not astonishing that a trial devoid of all foundation should have

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 213

Lad so extraordinary a duration ? At least there must have been some appear
ance of it. Besides, if the cause had been decided in Spain, the length of the
trial might not have been so extraordinary. But it was not so; the cause re
mained pending in Rome' many years. Were the judges so blind or so wicked
that they could not discover the calumny, or that they wanted the virtue to
destroy it, supposing it to have been as clear and evident as it has been pre
tended ? It may be replied to this, that the intrigues of Philip II., who was
determined on the destruction of the Archbishop, prevented the truth from
appearing; in proof of this assertion, have we not the difficulties which the king
made to allow the prisoner to be transferred to Rome ? It was necessary, it is
said, for Pius V. to effect this by the threat of excommunication. I will not
deny that Philip II. attempted to aggravate the situation of the Archbishop,
and wished for a sentence little favorable to the illustrious accused. Yet, before
deciding that the conduct of the king was criminal, we must know whether he
acted thus from personal resentment, from conviction, or from the suspicion that
the Archbishop inclined towards Lutheranism. Carranza, before his disgrace,
was highly favored and esteemed by Philip, as appears from the missions which
were confided to him in England, and from his elevation to the first ecclesias
tical dignity in Spain. How, then, can we presume that so much good-will was
converted on a sudden into personal and violent hatred ? Is it not, at least,
necessary that history should afford a fact in support of this conjecture ? Now,
I find this nowhere in history, nor am I aware that others have done so. If
Philip took so decided a part against the Archbishop, it was evidently because
he believed, or strongly suspected him of being heretical. In that case, Philip
may have been rash, imprudent — all that you please; but it cannot be said
that, in the pursuit, he was moved by the spirit of vengeance, or by low ani
mosity.

Other men of the time were equally accused. Among the rest, Melchior
Cano. Carranza himself seemed to be suspicious ; he bitterly complained that
Melchior Cano had ventured to say that the Archbishop was as heretical as
Luther. But Salazar de Mendoza, when relating the fact in the life of Car
ranza, asserts that Cano, hearing this, openly denied it, saying, that he had said
nothing of the kind. Indeed, the mind is easily inclined to believe him ; men
with intellects as favored as his, have, in their own dignity, too powerful a pre
servative against baseness, to allow them to be suspected of playing the infamous
part of calumniators.

I do not believe that it is necessary to seek for the cause of the misfortunes
of Carranza in private hatred or jealousy ; it is found in the critical circum
stances of the time, and in the character of this illustrious man himself. The
grave symptoms which produced alarm lest Protestantism might make prose
lytes in Spain ; the efforts of the Protestants to introduce their books and emis
saries there ; the experience of what happened in other countries, and particu
larly in the kingdom of France, created so much dread in men's minds, rendered
them so fearful and mistrustful, that the least suspicion of error, above all, in
persons elevated in dignity or distinguished for their knowledge, occasioned dis
quietude and apprehension. We are aware of the hot disputes which took place
with respect to the Polyglot of Antwerp and Arias Montanus, and we are not
ignorant of the sufferings of the famous Fray Luis de Leon, and some other
illustrious men of that time. Another conjuncture which contributed to push
things to extremes was, the political situation of Spain with respect to strangers.
The Spanish monarchy had too many enemies and rivals for her not to have
reason to fear that heresy, in the hands of her adversaries, would become a
means of introducing discord and civil war into her bosom. These causes united,
natuially rendered Philip suspicious and mistrustful; the hatred of heresy com
bining in his mind with the desire of self-preservation, he showsd himself severs

214 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CA1HOLICITY.

and inexorable with respect to all that could affect the purity of the Catholic
faith in his empire.

On the other hand, it must be acknowledged that the character of Carranza
was not exactly what was required, in such critical times, to avoid all dangerous
wanderings. We perceive, in reading his commentaries on the Catechism, that
he was a man of acute penetration, of vast erudition, of profound learning, of
severe character, and of a heart generous and frank. He spoke his thoughts
without circumlocution, without regard to the displeasure which his words might
jrive to this person or that. When he believed -that he had discovered an abuse,
he pointed it out and condemned it openly, wherein he resembled his supposed
adv:rsary, Melchior Cano, in more features than one. The accusations against
him in the trial were founded, not only on his writings, but also on some of his
sermons and private conversations. I know not to what extent he exceeded the
just limits ; but I hesitate not to affirm, that a man who wrote 'in the tone which
we find in his works, must have expressed himself viva voce with great force,
and perhaps with excessive boldness. It must be added, to speak the whole
truth, that when treating of justification, in his commentaries on the Catechism,
he does not explain himself with all the clearness desirable, and is wanting in
the simplicity required by the unhappy circumstances of the times. Men versed
in this delicate matter know how delicate certain points are. These points were
then the subject of the errors of Germany; and it maybe easily imagined how
much the attention must have been fixed on the words of Carranza, and how
alarming the least shadow of ambiguity must have been. It is certain that, at
Rome he was not acquitted of all the accusations ; he was compelled to abjure
<t series of propositions, with respect to which he was judged liable to suspicion;
and some penances were imposed on him. Carranza on his death-bed protested
his innocence ; but he took care to declare that he did not regard the sentence
of the Pope as unjust. The explanation of the enigma is this : the innocence
of the heart is not always accompanied by the prudence of the lips.

I have dwelt upon this famous cause because it involves considerations which
strikingly exhibit the spirit of the age. These considerations have, besides, the
advantage of showing the truth in its proper light, and prevent every thing
being explained according to the wretched measure of the malice of men. There
is unhappily a tendency to explain all in this way; and it may be truly said,
that men too often give a just foundation for it; yet, whenever there is no evi
dent necessity to do so, we ought to abstain from condemnation. The picture
of the history of humanity is sombre enough in itself; let us not take pleasure
m darkening it still more by new stains. We often call crime that which was
only ignorance. Man is inclined to evil; but he is not less subject to error, and
error is not always culpable.

Moreover, I believe that to Protestants themselves were owing the rigor and
anxious mistrust which the Inquisition of Spain displayed at that time. They
excited a religious revolution; and it is a constant law, that all revolutions
either destroy the power assailed, or render it more harsh and severe. What
before was looked upon as indifferent, is now considered as suspected ; and what,
in all other circumstances, would only have appeared a fault, is now regarded
as a crime. Men are in continual dread of seeing liberty converted into licen
tiousness ; and as revolutions destroy all, while they profess to reform, whoever
ventures to speak of reform, runs the risk of being blamed as a disturber. Even
prudent conduct is stigmatized as hypocritical caution ; frank and sincere lan
guage is termed insolence and dangerous suggestion ; reserve is a concealment
full of iumni.!g; even silence itself assumes a meaning — it becomes alarming
dissimulation. We have seen so many things come to pass in our days, that we
aie placed in an incomparable situation easily to understand the various phases
of the higtc-y cf humanity. It is ar undoubted fact, that Protestantism pro-

1ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 21 fr

duced a reaction in Spain. Its errors and excesses were the reason why tbe
ecclesiastical and civil power infinitely restrained the liberty which had beev
previously enjoyed in all that related to religion. Spain was preserved from the
Protestant doctrines, when all the probabilities were in favor of their being
introduced there, in one way or another. It is clear that this could not be
obtained without extraordinary efforts. Spain, at that time, appears to me like
a place besieged by a powerful enemy, where the leaders continually watched,
not only against attacks from without, but also against treason from within. I
will confirm these observations by an example, which will serve for many others.
Let us remember what took place with respect to Bibles in the vulgar tongue ;
we shall then have an idea of what passed with relation to all the rest, accord
ing to the natural order of things. I have before me a testimony of what I
have just said, as respectable as it is worthy of interest — that of Carranza him
self. Hear what he says in his prologue to his commentaries on the Christian
Catechism : " Before the heresies of Luther had come from the infernal regions
to the light of this world, I do not know that the Holy Scriptures in the vulgar
tongue were anywhere forbidden. In Spain, Bibles were translated into it by
order of the Catholic sovereigns, at the time when the Moors and Jews were
allowed to live among the Christians according to their own law. After the
expulsion of the Jews from Spain, the judges of religion found that some of
those who had been converted to our holy faith instructed their children in
Judaism, and taught them the ceremonies of the law of Moses by means of
those Bibles in the vulgar tongue, which they took care to have printed in Italy,
in the town of Ferrara. This is the real cause why Bibles in the vulgar tongue
were forbidden in Spain ; but the possession and reading of them were always
allowed to colleges and monasteries, as well as to persons of distinction above
all suspicion." Carranza continues to give, in a few words, the history of these
prohibitions in Germany, France, and other countries; then he adds: "In
Spain, which was, and still is, by the grace and goodness of Grod, pure from the
cockle, care was taken to forbid generally all the translations of the Scriptures
in the vulgar tongue, ID order to prevent strangers having an opportunity of
holding controversy with simple and ignorant persons, and also because they
had, and still have, experience of certain particular cases, and of the errors
which began to arise in Spain from the ill-understood reading of certain passages
of the Bible. What I have just stated is the real history of what took place ;
this is why the Bible in the vulgar tongue was prohibited."

This curious passage of Carranza shows us, in a few words, the progress of
things At first there was no prohibition ; but the abuse committed • by the
Jews provoked one, although still confined, as we have just seen, within certain
limits. Afterwards came the Protestants, upsetting all Europe by means of
their Bibles ; Spain is threatened with the introduction of the new errors ; it is
discovered that some persons have been misled by the false interpretation of
certain passages of the Bible; they are compelled to take away this weapon
from these strangers, who attempt to use it to seduce simple people : from thai
time the prohibition becomes rigorous and general.

To return to Philip II., let us not forget that this monarch was one of the
firmest defenders of the Catholic Church ; and that in him was personified the
policy jf the faithful ages, amid the vertigo which, under the impulse of Pro-
tes*.Uitism, had taken possession of European policy. If the Catholic Church,
amid these great perturbations, could reckon on a powerful protection from the
princes of the earth, it was in great measure owing to Philip II. This age
wap critical and decisive in Europe. If it is true that he was unfortunate in
Flan lers, it is not less undoubted that his power and ability afforded a counter
poise to the Protestant power, which prevented it making itself master of Eu
rope. Even supposing that the efforts of Philip had only the result of gaining

216 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

time by breaking the first shock of the Pi .tcstant policy, this was not a sligh.
service rendered to the Catholic Church, then attacked on so many sides. What
would have happened to Europe, if Protestantism had been introduced into
Spain as into France? if the Huguenots had been able to count on the assist-
ance of the Peninsula ? And what would have happened in Italy, if she had
not been held in respect by the power of Philip? Would not the sectaries of
Germany have succeeded in introducing their errors there ? Here I appeal to
all men who are acquainted with history, whether, if Philip had abandoned his
much-decried policy, the Catholic religion would not have run the risk of find
ing itself, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, under the hard neces
sity of existing only as a tolerated religion in the generality of the kingdoms of
Europe ? Now, we know what this toleration is worth to the Catholic Church ;
England has told us for centuries ; Prussia shows us at this moment, and Kussia
adds her testimony in a manner still more lamentable. Such is the point of
view in which we must consider Philip II. One is forced to allow that, consi
dered in this way, that prince is a great historical personage, — one of those who
have left the deepest marks on the policy of the age which followed, — one of
those who exert the greatest influence after them on the Bourse of events.

Spaniards, who anathematize the founder of the Escurial, have you, then, for
gotten our history, or do you esteem it of no value ? Do you stigmatize him
as an odious tyrant ? Do you not know that, in denying his glory, in covering
it with ignominy, you efface a feature of your own glory, and throw into the
mud the diadem which encircled the brows of Ferdinand and Isabella ? If you
cannot pardon Philip II for having sustained the Inquisition, — if that rea
son alone obliges you to load his name with execration, do the same with his
illustrious father, Charles V. ; and, going back to Isabella of Castille, write
also on the list of the tyrants and scourges of humanity that name which was
venerated by both worlds, and which is the emblem of the glory and power of
the Spanish monarchy. They all took part in the fact which excites your in
dignation ; do not curse some, while you lavish hypocritical indulgence on the
others. If that indulgence is found in your words, it is that the feeling of na
tionality which beats in your bosom compels you to partiality — to inconsistency ;
you recoil when you are about to efface the glories of Spain with a stroke _ of
the pen — to wither all her laurels — to deny your country. We have nothing
left, unfortunately, but great recollections ; let us at least avoid despising them :
these recollections are, in a nation, like the titles of ancient nobility in a fallen
family; they raise the mind, they fortify the soul in adversity; and, nourishing
hope in the bottom of the heart, they serve to prepare what is to come.

The immediate effect of the introduction of Protestantism into Spain would
have been, as in other countries, civil war ; and this war would have been more
fatal to us than to other people, because the circumstances were much more
critical for us. The unity of the Spanish monarchy could not have resisted the
shocks and disturbances of intestine dissension; the different parts were so
neterogeneous among themselves, and were so slightly united, that the least
blow would have parted them. The laws and manners of the kingdoms of Na
varre and Aragon were very different from those of Castille ; a lively feeling of
independence, supported by frequent meetings of their own Cortes, was kept
alive in the hearts of those unconquered nations ; they would certainly have
availed themselves of the first opportunity to shake off a yoke which was not
pleasing to them. Moreover, in the other provinces, factions were not wanting
to distract the country. The monarchy would have been miserably divided at a
time when it was necessary to make head in the affairs of Europe, Africa, and
America. The Moors were still in sight of our coasts ; the Jews had not had
time to forget Spain : certainly both would have availed themselves of the con
juncture to raise themselves by means of our discords. On the policy of Philif

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 217

depended not only the tranquillity, but perhaps even the existence of the Spa
nish monarchy. He is now accused of having been a tyrant; if he had pur
sued another course, he would have been taxed with incapacity and weakness.

One of the most unjust attacks of the enemies of veligion against her friends
is, to attribute bad faith to them, to accuse them of .laving in every thing false
intentions, tortuous and interested views. When they speak of the Machiavel
lianism of Philip II., they suppose that the Inquisition, while apparently only
religious in its object, was, in reality, an obedient instrument of policy in ths
hands of a crafty monarch. Nothing is more specious to the man in whose
eyes history is only a matter for piquant and malicious observations ; but no
thing is more false according to facts. Some people, seeing in the Inquisition
an extraordinary tribunal, have not been able to imagine the existence of that
exceptional tribunal, without supposing, in the monarch who sustained and en
couraged it, profound reasons, and views carried much further than appears on
the surface of things. They have not been willing to see that an epoch has its
spirit, its own manner of regarding things, its own system of action, both in
doing good and in preventing evil. During those times, when all the nations of
Europe appealed to fire and sword to decide questions of religion, when Pro
testants and Catholics burnt their adversaries, when England, France, and Ger
many assisted at the bloodiest scenes, to bring a heretic to the scaffold was a
natural and customary thing, which gave no shock to prevailing ideas. We
feel our hair grow stiff on our heads at the mere idea of burning a man alive.
Placed in society where the religious sentiment is considerably diminished;
accustomed to live among men who have a different religion, and sometimes
none at all ; we cannot bring ourselves to believe that it could be at that time
quite an ordinary thing to see heretics or the impious led to punishment. But,
if we read the authors of the time, we shall see the immense difference on this
point between their manners and ours ; and we shall remark, that our language
of moderation and toleration would not even have been understood by the man of
the sixteenth century.

Do you know what Carranza himself, who suffered so much from the Inqui
sition, thought of this matter ? Every time that he has occasion to touch on
this point in the work which I have quoted, he expresses the ideas of his time,
without even staying to prove them ; he gives them as undoubted principles.
In England, with Queen Mary, he did not fear to express his opinions as to the
rigor with which heretics ought to be treated; and he was certainly far from
suspecting that his name would one day be made use of to attack this intole
rance. Kings and peoples, ecclesiastics and seculars, were all agreed on this
point. What would be said now-a-days of a king who would carry with his own
hands the wood to burn heretics, and would condemn blasphemers to have their
tongues pierced with a hot iron ? Now, the first of these things is related of
St. Ferdinand, and we know that the second was done by St. Louis. We now .
exclaim in seeing Philip II. assisting at an auto-da-f6 ; but, if we consider that
the court, the great men, all that was most select in society, surrounded the
king on these occasions, we shall understand that, if this spectacle is horrible
and intolerable to us, it was not so in the eyes of those men, widely different
from us in ideas and feelings. And let it not be said that they w^re forced
there by the will of the monarch, — that they were compelled to obey • this was
uot the effect of the monarch's will ; it was only a consequence of the spirit of
the age. No monarch would have been sufficiently powerful to perform such a
ceremony, if the spirit of the age had been opposed to it ; besides, no monarch
is so hard and insensible as not to feel the influence of the times in which he
lives. Suppose the most absolute despot of our time, Napoleon, at the height
of his power, or the present Emperor of Russia, and see who^lier thej c mM
thus violate the manners of the age.

28 T

>1& PR JTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

An anecdote is related which is little adapted to confirm the opinion of thosi
who assert that the Inquisition was a political instrument in the hands of Philip.
As it paints in a curious and interesting mauner the customs and ideas of tha
age, 1 will insert it here. Philip II. held his court at Madrid ; a certain
preacher, in a sermon delivered in presence of the king, advanced, that sove
reigns had an absolute power over the persons as well as over the property of their
subjects. The proposition wag not of a nature to displease a king ; the preacher
at one blow relieved kings from all control over the exercise of their power.
Now, it seems that at that time all men were not in such abject subjection to
despotic control as we have been led to believe ; some one was found to denounce
to the Inquisition the words in which the preacher had not been ashamed to
flatter the absolute power of kings. Surely the orator had chosen a secure
asylum; and our readers may well suppose that this denunciation coming into
collision with the power of Philip, the Inquisition would have maintained a
prudent silence. Yet it was not so : the Inquisition made an inquiry, found
the proposition contrary to sound doctrine, and the preacher, who was perhaps
far from expecting such a reward, had divers penances imposed on him, and was
condemned to retract publicly his proposition in the same place where he had
mado it. The retractation took place with all the ceremonies of a juridical pro
ceeding ; the preacher declared that he retracted his proposition as erroneous ;
he explained the reasons by reading, as he had been directed, the following
words, well worthy of remark : u Indeed, messieurs, kings have no other power
over their subjects than that which is given to them by the divine and human law;
they have none proceeding from their own free and absolute will" This is re
lated by D. Antonio Perez, as may be seen at length in the note which corre
sponds to the present chapter. We know, moreover, that he was not a fanatical
partisan of the Inquisition.

This took place at the time which some persons never mention without stig
matizing it with the words obscurantism, tyranny, and superstition. Yet I
doubt whether, at a time nearer to us — that, for example, when it is asserted
that light and liberty dawned on Spain under the reign of Charles III. — a
public and solemn condemnation of despotism would have been carried so far.
This condemnation, at the time of Philip II., did as much honor to the tribunal
which ordered it as to the monarch who consented to it.

With respect to knowledge, it is a calumny to say that a design was formed
to maintain and perpetuate ignorance. Certainly the conduct of Philip does
not indicate such a design, when we see this prince, not content with favoring
the great enterprise of the Polyglot of Antwerp, recommending to Arias Mon-
tanus to devote to the purchase of chosen works, printed or manuscript, the
money which would revert to the printer Plantinus, to whom the king
had advanced a large sum to aid in the enterprise. This chosen collection was
to be placed in the library of the monastery of the Escurial, which was then
built. The king had also charged Don Francis de Alaba, his ambassador ir,
France, to collect in that kingdom the best books which it ivas possible for him fo
vrocure, as he himself says in his letter to Arias Montanus. No; the history
of Spain, with respect to intolerance in religious matters, is not so black as it
has been represented. When foreigners reproach us with cruelty, we will reply
thit, when Europe was stained with blood by civil wars, Spain was at peace.
&.« to the number of persons who perished on the scaffold or died in exile, we
challenge the two nations who claim to be at the head of civilization, France
and England, to show us their statistics on that subject at the same time, and
to compare them with ours: we do not fear the comparison.

In proportion as the danger of the introduction of Protestantism into Spain
diminished, so did the rigor of the Inquisition. We may observe, moreovei
thut the procedure of that tribunal always became milder, in accjrdance with

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH orv ^ wOLICITY. 21&

thv3 sp fit of criminal legislation in the other countries of Europe. Thus we
see the auto-da-fe, becoming more rare as we approach our own times, s) that,
at the end of the last century, the Inquisition was only a shadow of what it
had been. It is useless to insist on this point, which nobody denies, and on
which we are in unison with the most ardent enemies of that tribunal; and this
it is which, in our eyes, proves, in the most convincing manner, that we must
seek in the ideas and manners of the time, what people have attempted to find
in the cruelty, in the wickedness, or in the ambition of men. If the doctrines
of those who plead for the abolition of the punishment of death are carried
into effect, posterity, when reading the executions of our time, will be seized
with the same horror with which we view the punishment of times past, and
the gibbet and the guillotine will figure in the same rank as the ancient
Quemaderos. (26)

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THEMSELVES.

RELIGIOUS institutions are another of those points whereon Protestantism
and Catholicity are in complete opposition to each other: the first abhors, the
second loves them ; the one destroys them, the other establishes and encourages
them. One of the first acts of Protestantism, whenever it is introduced, is to
attack religious institutions by its doctrines and its acts; it labors to destroy
them immediately; one would say that the pretended Reformation cannot behold
without irritation those holy abodes, which continually remind it of the igno
minious apostacy of its founder. Religious vows, especially that of chastity,
have been the subject of the most cruel invectives on the part of Protestants;
but it must be observed, that what is said now, and what has been repeated for
three centuries, is only the echo of the first voice which was raised in Ger
many ; and what was that voice ? It was the voice of a monk without modesty,
who penetrated into the sanctuary and carried away a victim. All the pomp
of learning employed to combat a sacred dogma is insuificient to hide so impure
an origin. Through the excitement of the false prophet we perceive the impure
flame* which devour his heart.

Let us observe in passing, that the same thing took place with respect to the
celibacy of the clergy. Protestants, from the beginning, could not endure this;
they threw off the mask, and condemned it without disguise; they attempted
to combat it with a certain ostentation of learning; but, at the bottom of all
their declamation, what do we find ? The clamor of a priest who has forgotten
his duty ; who strives against the remorse of his conscience, and endeavors to
hide his shame by diminishing the horror of the scandal by the allegations of
falsehood. If such conduct had been pursued by the Catholics, all the arms of
ridicule would have been employed to 'cover them with contempt, to stamp it,
as it deserves, with the brand of infamy; but it was a man who declared deadly
war against Catholicity : that was enough to turn away the contempt of philo
sophers, and find indulgence for the declamation of a monk whose first argu
ment against celibacy was, to profane his vows and consummate a sacrilege.

The rest of the disturbers of that age imitated the example of so worthy a
master. All demanded and required from Scripture and philosophy a veil to
cover their weakness and baseness. Just punishment ! blindness of the mind
was the result of corruption of the heart ; impudence sought and obtained the
companionship of error. Never is the mind more vile than when, to excuse •<*
fault, it becomes the accomplice of it; then it is not deceived, but prostituted.

This hatred of religious institutions has been inherited by philosophy from
Protestantism. This is the reason why all revolutions, excited ac i guided bf

220 PROTESrAi>libM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

Protestania or philosophers, have been signalized by their intoleraL3e towards
the institutions themselves, and by their cruelty towards those who belonged to
them. What the law could not do was completed by the dagger and the torch
of the incendiary. What escaped the catastrophe was left to the slow punish
ment of misery and famine. On this point, as well as on many others, it is
manifest that the infidel philosophy is the daughter of the Reformation. It is
useless to seek for a more convincing proof of this than the parallebof the his
tories of both, in all that relates to the destruction of religious institutions ;
the same flattery of kings, the same exaggeration of the civil power, the same
declamation against the pretended evil inflicted on society, the same calumnies;
we have only to change the names and the dates. And we must also remark
this peculiarity, that, in this matter, the difference which, apparently, ought to
have resulted from the progress of toleration and the softening of manners in
recent times, has scarcely been felt.

But is it true that religious institutions are as contemptible as they have been
represented? is it true that they do not even deserve attention, and that all the
questions relating to them can be solved by merely pronouncing the word
fanaticism ? Does not the man of observation, the real philosopher, find in
them any thing worthy of attracting his attention ? It is difficult to believe
that such was the nullity of these institutions, whose history is so grand, and
which still preserve in their existence the promise of a great future. It is
difficult to believe that such institutions are riot worthy of attention in the
highest degree, and that their study is wholly devoid of lively interest and
solid profit. We see them appear at every epoch of Church history ; their
memorials and monuments are found every moment under our feet; they are
preserved in the regions of Asia, iij the sands of Africa, in the oities and soli
tudes of America; in fine, when, after so much adversity, we see them more
or less prosperous in the various countries of Europe, sending forth again fresh
shoots in those lands where their roots had been the most deeply torn up, there
naturally arises in the mind a spirit of curiosity to examine this phenomenon,
to inquire what is the origin, the genius, and the character of these institutions
Those who love to descend into the heart of philosophical questions discover, at
first sight, that there must be there an abundant mine of the most precious in
formation for the science of religion, of society, and of man. He who has read
the lives of the ancient fathers of the desert without being touched, without
feeling profound admiration, and being filled with grave and lofty thoughts; he
who, treading under his feet with indifference the ruins of an ancient abbey,
hag not called up in fancy the shades of the cenobites who lived and died there ;
he who passes coldly through the corridors and cells of convents half demo
lished, and feels no recollections, and not even the curiosity to examine, — hu
may close the annals of history, and may cease to study the beautiful and the
sublime. There exist for him no historical phenomena, no beauty, no sublimity;
his mind is in darkness, his heart is in the dust.

With the intention of hiding the intimate connection which subsists between
religious institutions and religion herself, it has been said that she can exist
without them. This is an incontrovertible truth, but abstract and wholly use
less — a barren and isolated assertion, which can throw no light upon science,
nor serve as any practical guide — an insidious truth, which only tends entirely
to change the whole state of the question, and persuade men that when reli
gious institutions are concerned, religion has nothing to do with the matter.
There is here a gross sophism, which is too much employed, not only on thia
question, b it on many othe-s. This consists in replying to all difficulties by a
proposition perfectly true in itself, but which has nothing to do with the ques-
ti( u. 13y this means, attention is turned another way ; the palpable truth which
is presented to the mind makes men wander from the principal object, and

PROTESTANTUM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 22 J

induces them tD take that for a solution which is only a listrackt i. Witi
respect, for example, to the support of the clergy and divine worship, it is said,
"Temporals are altogether different from spirituals." When the ministers of
religion are systematically calumniated, " Religion," they say, " is one thing,
and her ministers are another." If it is wished to represent the conduct of
Home for many centuries as an uninterrupted chain of injustice, of corruption,
and of invasion of right, all reply is anticipated by saying, " The supremacy of
the Sovereign Pontiff has nothing to do with the vices of Popes or their ambi
tion/' ^ Reflections perfectly just, and truths palpable, no doubt, which are very
aseful in certain cases, but which writers of bad faith cunningly employ to con
ceal from the reader the real object they have in view. Such are the jugglera
who attract the attention of the simple multitude on one side, while their com-
panions perform their criminal operations on the other

Because a thing is not necessary to the existence of 'another, it does not fol
low that the first does not originate in the second, — does not mid in the spirit
of the latter its peculiar and permanent existence, and that a system of intimate
and delicate relation does not subsist between them. The tree can subsist with
out flowers and fruits ; these can certainly fall without destroying the trunk ;
but as long as the tree shall exist, will it ever cease to give proofs of its vigo»
and its beauty, and to offer its flowers to the eye, and its fruits to the taste i
The stream may constantly flow in its crystal bed without the green margir,
which embellishes its sides ; but while its source is not dried up — as long as the
fertilizing water penetrates the ground, can its favored banks remain dry, bar
ren, without color and ornament? Let us apply these images to our subject.
Lt is certain that religion can exist without religious communities, and that their
ruin does not necessarily entail that of religion herself. More than once it has
been seen that in countries where religious institutions have been destroyed, the
Catholic faith has been long preserved But it is not less certain, that 'there ia
a necessary dependence between them and religion ; that is, that she has given
being to them, that she animates them with her spirit, and nourishes them with
her substance : this is tfce reason why they immediately germinate wherever the
Catholic faith takes root; and if they have been driven from a country where
she continues to exist, they will reappear. Without alluding to the examples
of other countries, do we not see this phenomenon take place in France in a
remarkable manner ? The number of convents of men and women which are
again established on the French soil is already very considerable. Who would
have told the men of the Constituent Assembly, the Legislative Assembly, the
Convention, that half a century should not elapse without seeing religious insti
tutions reappear and flourish in France, in spite of all their efforts to destroy
even their memory ? " If that happen," they would have said, " it will be be-
cause the revolution which we are making will not be allowed to triumph —
because ^ Europe will have again imposed despotism upon us; then, arid then
only, will be witnessed in France — in Paris — in this capital of the Christiai
world— the re-establishment of religious institutions, that legacy of fanaticism
and superstition, transmitted to us by the ideas and manners of an age which
has passed away, never to return."

Senseless men ! your revolution has triumphed; you have conquered Europe;
the old principles of the French monarchy have been erased from legislation,
.nstitutious, and manners; the genius of war has led your doctrines in triumph
over Europe, and they were gilded by the rays of your glory. Your principles,
ill your recollections have again triumphed at a recent period ; they still live iu
fijl their force and pride, personified in some men who glory in being the heirs
of what they call the glorious Revolution of '89 ; and yet, in spite of so many
triumphs, although your revolution has only receded as much as was necessary the
better to secure its conquests, religious institutions have again arisen — they ex-

222 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

tend, they are propagated everywhere, and they regain an important place in tht
annals of our times. To prevent this revival, it would have been necessary to
extirpate religion; it was not enough to persecute her; faith remained like a
precious germ covered by stones and thorns ; Providence sends down a ray of
that divine star which softens stones, and gives life and fertility ; the tree rises
again in all its beauty, in spite of the ruins which hindered its giowth and de
velopment, and its leaves are immediately covered with charming blossoms :—
behold the religious institutions which you thought were for ever annihilated !

The example which we have just mentioned clearly shows the truth of what
we wish to establish, with respect to the intimate connection which exists be
tween religion and religious institutions. Church history furnishes proofs in
support of this truth. Besides, the mere knowledge of religion, and of the
nature of the institutions of which we speak, would suffice to prove it to us,
even if we had not history and experience in our favor.

The force of general prejudice on this subject is such, that it is necessary tc
descend to the root of things, to show the complete mistake of our adversaries.
What are religious institutions considered generally ? Putting aside the differ
ences, the changes, the alterations necessarily produced by variety of times,
countries, and other circumstances, we will say that a religious institute is a
society of Christians living together, under certain rules, for the purpose of prac
tising the Gospel precepts. We include, in this definition, even the orders which
are not bound by a vow. It will be seen that we have considered the religious
institution in its most general sense, laying aside all that theologians and canon
ists say with respect to the conditions indispensable to constitute or complete its
essence. We must, moreover, observe that we ought not to exclude from the
honorable denomination of religious institutes, those associations which possess
all the conditions except the vows. The Catholic religion is fertile enough to
produce good by means and forms widely different. In the generality of reli
gious institutions, she has shown us what man can do by binding himself by a
vow, for his whole life, to a holy abnegation of his own will ; but she has also
wished to show us that, while leaving him at liberty, she could attach him by a
variety of ties, and make him persevere until death, as if he had been obliged
by a perpetual vow. The congregation of the oratory of St. Philip Neri, which
is found in this latter category, is certainly worthy of figuring among religious
institutions as one of the finest monuments of the Catholic Church. 1 am aware
that the vow is comprised in the essence of religious institutes, as they are com
monly understood; but my only object now is, to vindicate this kind of associa
tion against Protestants. Now we know that they condemn indiscriminately,
associations bound by vows and those which only consist of the permanent and
free adhesion of the persons who compose them. All that has the form of a
religious community is regarded by them with a look of anger. When they
proscribed *k9 religious orders, they included in the same fate those which had
vows and those which had not. Consequently, when defending them, we must
class them together. Moreover, this will not prevent our considering the vow
in itself, and justifying it before the tribunal of philosophy.

I do not imagine that it is necessary to say more to show that the object of
religious institutions — that is, as we have just said, the putting in practice of
the Gospel counsels — is in perfect uniformity with the Gospel itself. And let us
well observe that, whatever may be the name, whatever may be the form of
the institutions, they have always for their object something more than the
simple observance of the precepts ; the idea of perfection is always included,
then, either in the active or the contemplative life. To keep the Divine command
ments is indispensable to all Christians who wish to possess eternal life ; the
religious orders attempt a more difficult path ; they aim at perfection. This i
the object c f the men who, after having heard these words from the mouth o*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 22i

their Divine Master : " If you wish to be perfect, go sell all you have, iind give
it to the poor," have not departed sorrowful, like the young man in the Gospel,
but have embraced with courage the enterprise of quitting all and following
Jesus Christ.

We have now inquired whether association is the best means to carry into
execution so holy an object. It would be easy for me to show this by adducing
various texts of Scripture, where the true spirit of the Christian religion, and
the will of our Divine Master, dre clearly shown on this point; but the taste of
our age, and the self-evidence even of the truths in question, warn us to avoid,
as much as possible, all that savors of theological discussion. I will remove
the question, then, from this level, to consider it in a light purely historical
and philosophical ; that is to say, without accumulating citations and texts, I
will prove that religious institutes are perfectly conformable to the spirit of the
Christian religion ; and that consequently that spirit has been deplorably mis
taken by Protestants, when they have condemned or destroyed them. If phi
losophers, while they do not admit the truth of religion, still avow that it is
useful and beautiful, I will prove to them that they cannot condemn those
institutions which are the necessary result of it. In the cradle of Christianity
when men preserved, in all their energy and purity, the sparks from th
tongues of the Holy Spirit; in those times, when the words and examples of it
Divine Founder were still fresh, when the number of the faithful who had had
the happiness of seeing and hearing Him was still very great in the Church,
re see the Christians, under the direction of the Apostles themselves, unite,
iave all their property in common ; thus forming only one family, the Father
of which was in heaven, and which had only one heart and one soul.

I will not dispute as to the extent of this primitive proceeding ; I will abstain
from analyzing the various circumstances which accompanied it, and from ex
amining how far it resembled the religious institutions of latter times ; it is
enough to state its existence, and show therefrom what is the true spirit of
religion with respect to the most proper means to realize evangelical perfection
I will only allude to the fact, that Cassian, in the description which he gives
of the commencement of religious institutions, assigns as their cradle the pro
ceeding we have just mentioned, and which is reported in the Acts of the
Apostles. According to the same author, this kind of life was never wholly
interrupted; so that there were always some fervent Christians who continued
it; thus attaching, by a continued chain, the existence of the monks to the
primitive associations of the apostolical times. After having described the
kind of life of the first Christians, and traced the alterations of the times that
followed, Cassian continues thus : " Those who preserved the apostolical fervor
in this way, recalling primitive perfection, quitted towns, and the society of
those who believed that they were allowed to live with less severity ; they began
to choose secret and retired places, where they could follow in private the rules
which they remembered to have been appointed by the Apostles for the whole
body of the Church in general. Thus commenced the formation of the disci
pline of those who had quitted that contagion, as they lived separate from the
rest of the faithful; abstaining from marriage, and having no communication
vith the world, even with their own families. In the progress of time, the
•name of monks was given to them, in consideration of the'ir singular and soli
tary life." (Collat. 18, cap. 5.)

Times of persecution immediately followed, which, with some interruptions,
that may be called moments of repose, lasted till the conversion of Constantine.
There were, then, during this time, some Christians who attempted to continue
the mode of life of the apostolical years. Cassiau clearly indicates this in the
passage which we have just read. He omits to say that this primitive life was
•iccessarily modified, in its exterior form, by the calamities with •which the

224 * rlOTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Church was afflicted at that period. In all that time we ought not to look fo*
Christians living in community \ we shall find them confessing Jesus Christ
with imperturbable calmness, on the rack, amid all torments, in the circus,
where they were torn to pieces by wild beasts, on the scaffold, where they
quietly gave up their heads to the axe of the executioner. But observe what
happened even during the time of persecution ; the Christians, of whom the
world was not worthy, pursued in the towns like wild beasts, wandered about
in solitude, seeking refuge in the deserts. The solitudes of the East, the sand
and rocks of Arabia, the most inaccessible places of the Thebaid, receive those
troops of fugitives, who dwell in the abodes of wild beasts, in abandoned graves,
in dried-up cisterns, in the deepest caverns, only asking for an asylum for medi
tation and prayer. And do you know the result of this ? These deserts, in
which the Christians wandered, like a few grains of sand driven by the wind,
became peopled, as it were by magic, with innumerable religious communities.
There they meditated, prayed, and read the Gospel ; hardly had the fruitful
seed touched the earth, when the precious plant arose in a moment.

Admirable are the de-signs of Providence ! Christianity, persecuted in the
towns, fertilizes and embellishes the deserts ; the precious grain requires for its
development neither the moisture of the earth nor the breeze of a mild atmo
sphere ; when carried through the air on the wings of the storm, the seed loses
nothing of its vitality; when thrown on a rock, it does not perish. The fury
of the elements avails nothing against the work of God, who has made the
north wind His courser : the rock ceases to be barren when He pleases to fer
tilize it. Did He not make pure water spring forth at the mysterious touch of
His Prophet's rod ?

When peace was given to the Church by the conqueror of Maxentius, the
germs contained in the bosom of Christianity were able to develope themselves
everywhere; from that moment the Church 'was never without religious com
munities. With history in our hands, we may defy the enemies of religious
institutions to point out any period, however short, when these institutions had
entirely disappeared. Under some form or in some country, they have always
perpetuated the existence which they had received in the early ages of Chris
tianity. The fact is certain and constant, and is found in every page of eccle
siastical history ; it plays an important part in all the great events in the annals
of the Church. It is found in the west and in the east, in modern and in an
cient times, in the prosperity and in the adversity of the Church ; when the
pursuit of religious perfection was an honor in the eyes of the world, as well
as when it was an object of persecution, raillery, and calumny. What clearer
proof can there be that there is an intimate connection between religious insti
tutions and religion herself? What more is required to show us that^they are
her spontaneous fruit ? In the moral and in the physical order of things, the
constant appearance of the one following the other, is regarded as a proof of the
reciprocal dependence of two phenomena. If these phenomena have towards
each other the relations of cause and effect — if we find in the essence of the one
all the principles that are required in the production of the other, the
first is called the cause and the other the effect. Wherever the religion of
Jesus Christ is established, religious communities are found under some form or
other ; they are, therefore, its spontaneous effect. I do not know what reply
can be made to so conclusive an argument.

By viewing the question in this way, the favor and protection which religious
institutions always found with the Pontiff is naturally explained. It was hia
duty to act in conformity with the spirit which animates the Church, of which
he is the chief ruler upon earth ; it is certainly not the Pope who has made the
regulation, that one of the means most apt to lead men to perfection is to unite
themselves in associations under certain rules, in conformity with the instruo

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITf. £ZS>

* their Divine Master. The Eternal Lord thus ruled in the stcrets of
tils 1111*^1.10 *,_-dom, and the conduct of the Popes could not be contrary to the
Josigns of the Most High. It has been said that interested views interposed j
it has been said that the policy of the Popes found in these institutions a power
ful means of sustaining and aggrandizing itself. But can you not see any thing
but the sordid instruments of cunning policy in the societies of the primitive
faithful, in the monasteries of the solitudes of the East, in that crowd of insti
tutions which have had for their object only the sanctification of their own mem
bers and the amelioration of some of the great evils of humanity ? A fact sc
general, so great, so beneficent, cannot be explained by views of interest and
narrow designs ; its origin is higher and nobler ; and he who will not seek for
it in heaven ought at least to seek for it in something greater than the projects
of a man or the policy of a court ; he ought to seek for lofty ideas, sublime
feelings, capable, if they do not mount to heaven, at least of embracing a large
part of the earth ; nothing less is here required than one of those thoughts which
preside over the destinies of the human race.

Some persons may be inclined to imagine private designs on the part of the
Popes, because they see their authority interfere in all the foundations of later
ages, and their approbation constitute the validity of the rules of religious insti
tutions ; but the course pursued in this respect by ecclesiastical discipline shows
us that the most active intervention of the Popes, far from emanating from private
views, has been called for by a necessity of presenting an excessive multiplication
of the religious orders in consequence of an indiscreet zeal. This vigilance in
preventing abuses was the origin of this supreme intervention. In the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries the tendency to new foundations was so strong that the
most serious inconveniences would have resulted from it, without a continual
watchfulness on the part of the ecclesiastical authority. Thus we see the Sove
reign Pontiff Innocent III. ordain, in the Council of Lateran, that whoever
wished to found a new religious house shall be bound to adopt one of the approved
rules and institutions.

But let us pursue our design. I can understand how those who deny the
truth of the Christian religion, and turn into ridicule the counsels of the Gospel,
bring themselves to deny all that is celestial and divine in the spirit of the reli
gious communities ; but the truth of religion once established, I cannot conceive
how men who boast of following its laws can declare themselves the enemies of
these institutions considered in themselves. How can he who admits the prin
ciple refuse the consequence ? How can he who loves the cause reject the effect?
They must either affect a religion hypocritically, or they profess without compre
hending it.

in default of any other proof of the anti-evangelical spirit which guided the
leaders of the pretended Reformation, their hatred to an institution so evidently
founded on the Gospel itself should suffice. Did not these enthusiasts for
reading the Bible without note or comment — they who pretend to find all its
passages so clear — did they not remark the plain and easy senoe of that multi
tude of passages which recommend self-abnegation, the renunciation of all pos
sessions, and the privation of all pleasures ? These words arc plain — they can
not be taken in any other signification — they do not require for their compre
hension a profound study of the sacred sciences, or that of languages ; and yet
they have not been heard : we should rather say, they have not been listened to.
The intellect has understood, but the passions have rejected them.

As to those philosophers who have regarded religious institutions as vain and
contemptible, if not dangerous, it is clear that they have meditated but little on
the human mind, and on the deep feelings of our hearts, full as they are of
mystery. As th^ir hearts have felt nothing at the sight of those numbers of
men and women assembled for the purpose of sanctifying themselves or others,
2Q

£26 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

or of relievitg wants, and consoling the unfortunate, it is but too clear that tin 11
gouls have been dried up by the breath of skepticism. To renounce for ever all
the pleasures of life ; to live in solitude, there to offer one's self, in austerity
and penance, as a holocaust to the Most High : this, certainly is a matter of
horror to those philosophers who have only viewed the world through their own
prejudices. But humanity has other thoughts ; it feels itself attracted by those
objects which philosophers find so vain, so devoid of interest, so worthy pf horror.

Wonderful are the secrets of our hearts ! Although enervated by pleasure,
and involved in the whirlwind of amusement and mirth, we cannot avoid being
seized with deep emotion at the sight of austerity and recollection of soul. Soli
tude, and even sadness itself, exert an inexpressible influence over us. Whence
comes that enthusiasm which moves a whole nation, excites and makes it follow,
as if by enchantment, the steps of a man whose brow is marked by recollection,
whose features display austerity of life, whose clothes and manners show freedom
from all that is earthly, and forgetfulness of the world ? Now, it is a fact,
proved by the history both of true and of false religions ; so powerful a means of
attracting respect and esteem has not remained unknown to imposture : licen
tiousness and corruption, desirous of making their fortunes in the world, have mom
than once felt the imperious necessity of disguising themselves under the mantle
of austerity and purity. What at first sight might appear the most opposed to
our feelings, the most repugnant to our tastes — this shade of sadness diifused
over the recollection and solitude of the religious life — is precisely what enchants
and attracts us the most. The religious life is solitary and pensive ; therefore
it is beautiful, and its beauty is sublime. Nothing is more apt than this subli
mity to move our hearts deeply, and make indelible impressions on them. In
reality, our soul has the character of an exile; it is affected by melancholy objects
only ; it has not attained to that noisy joy which requires to borrow a tint of
melancholy only for the sake of a happy contrast. In order to clothe beauty
with its most seductive charms, it is necessary that a tear of anguish should
flow from her eyes, that her forehead should assume an air of sadness, and her
cheeks grow pale with a melancholy remembrance. In order that the life of a
hero excite a lively interest in us, it is requisite that misfortune be his companion,
lamentation his consolation — that disaster and ingratitude be the reward of his
virtues. If you wish that a picture of nature or art should strongly attract our
attention, take possession of and absorb the powers of our soul, it is necessary
that a memorial of the nothingness of man, and an image of death, should be
presented to our minds; our hearts should be appealed to by the feelings of a
tranquil sadness ; we desire to see sombre tints on a monument in ruins — the
cross reminding us of the abode of the dead, the massive walls covered with
moss, and pointing out the ancient dwelling of some powerful man, who, after
having lived on earth for a short time, has disappeared.

Joy does not satisfy us, it does not fill our hearts ; it intoxicates and dissipates
them for a few moments ; but man does not find there his happiness, because
the joys of earth are frivolous, and frivolity cannot attach a traveller who, far
from his country, walks painfully through the valley of tears. Thence it comes
that, while sorrow and tears are accepted — we should rather say, are carefully
sought for by art — whenever a deep impression is to be made upon th<3 soul,
joy and smiles are inexorably banished. Oratory, poetry, sculpture, painting,
music, have all constantly followed the same rule ; or, rather, have always been
governed by the same instinct It certainly required a lofty spirit and a heart
of fire to declare that the soul is naturally Christian. In these few words an
illustrious thinker has known how to express all the relations which unite the
faith, morality, and counsels of this divine religion, with all that is most
intimate, delicate, and noble in our hearts. Do you know Christian pensiventse;
that grave and elevated feeling which is p-unted 011 the forehead of the Christian,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 227

ike a memorial of sorrow on, that of an illustrious proscribed one ; this feeling
which moderates the enjoyments of life by the image of the tomb, and lights up the
iepths of the grave with the rays of hope ; that pensiveness so natural and con
soling, so grave and noble, which causes diadems and sceptres to be trodden
under foot like dust, and the greatness and splendor of the world to be despised
as a passing illusion ? This melancholy, carried to its perfection, vivified and
fertilized by grace, and subjected to a holy rule, is what presides over the foun
dation of religious institutions, and accompanies them as long as they preserve
their primitive fervor, which they received from men who were guided by
divine light, and animated by the Spirit of God. This holy melancholy, which
carries with it freedom from all earthly things, is the feeling which the Church
wishes to instil into and preserve in, the religious orders, when she surrounds
their silent abodes with a shade of retirement and meditation.

That amid the fury and the convulsions of parties, a mad and sacrilegious
hand, secretly excited by malice, should plunge a fratricidal dagger into an inno
cent heart, or set fire to a peaceful dwelling, may be conceived ; for, unhappily,
the history of man abounds in crimes and frenzies ; but that the essence of
religious institutions should be attacked, that their spirit should be considered
narrow and imbecile, that they should be deprived of the noble titles which
give honor to their origin, and the beauties which adorn their history, can be
allowed neither by the intellect nor by the heart. A false philosophy, which
dries up and withers all that it touches, has undertaken so mad a task. But,
setting aside religion and reason, literature and the fine arts have rebelled
against this attempt ; literature arid the fine arts, which have need of old recol
lections, and which are indebted for their wonders to lofty thoughts, to grave
and noble scenes, and deep and melancholy feelings; literature and the arts,
which delight in transporting the mind of man into regions of light, in guiding
the imagination through new and unknown paths, and in ruling the heart by
mysterious charms.

No ; a thousand times no ! As long as the religion of that God made man,
who had not where to repose his head, and who sat down by a well on the way
side to rest, like an humble traveller, shall last j of that God-man, whose ap
pearance was announced to the nations by a mysterious voice coming from the
desert — by the voice of a man clothed in a goat-skin, whose reins were bound
with a leathern girdle, and who lived on nothing but locusts and wild honey :
as long as this divine religion shall last, nothing will be more holy or more
worthy of our respect than those institutions, the true and original object of
which is to realize what Heaven intended to teach man by such eloquent and
sublime lessons. Times, vicissitudes, and revolutions, succeed each other ; the
institution will change its form, will undergo alterations, will be affected more or
less by the weakness of men, by the corrosive action of time, and the destruc
tive power of events j but it will live — it will never perish. If one society
rejects it, it will seek an asylum in another ; driven from towns, it will take
refuge in forests ; if there pursued, it will flee to the horrors of the desert.
1'here will always be, in some privileged hearts, an echo for the voice of that
sublime religion, which, holding in her hand a standard of sorrow and love —
the sacred standard of the sufferings and death of the Son of God — the Cross,
will proclaim to men : " Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation ;
if you assemble to pray, the Lord will be in the midst of you j all flesh is but
grass ; life is a dream ; above your heads is an ocean of light and happiness ;
under your feet an abyss ; your life on earth is a pilgrimage, an exile." Then
she marks his forehead with the mysterious ashes, telling him, " Thou
and unto dust thou shalt return."

We shall perhaps be asked why the faithful cannot practise evaj
feotion while living in the bosom of their families, without assemj

228 PROTISTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

munities ? We shall reply, that we have no intention
idf that practice, even in the midst of the world; and wt ..^s^iy acknowledge
that a great number of Christians have done so at all timea, and do so now;
but this does not prove that the surest and easiest means is not that of the life
in community with others who have the same object in \,ow, and in retirement
from all the things of this world. Laying aside for a moment all consideration
of religion, are you not aware of the ascendency which the spirit of repeated
examples exerts on those with whom we live ? Do you not know how easily
our spirit fails when we find ourselves alone in a difficult enterprise ? Do you
not know that, in the greatest misfortunes, it is a consolation to behold others
participate in our sorrows? On this, point, as well as on all others, religion
accords with sound philosophy, and both unite in explaining ti (id the profound
meaning contained in those words of Scripture : " Vae soli J Wo to him •//•V
alone !"

Before concluding this chapter, I wish to say a few words on the T.ows vhich
commonly accompany religious institutes. Perhaps they are one of rhe princi
pal causes of the violent antipathy of Protestantism against these ihstitv.t.^..«.
Vows render things fixed and stable; and the fundamental principle of Pro
testantism does not admit of fixity or stability. Essentially separating and
anarchical, this principle rejects unity and destroys the hierarchy ; dissolving
in its nature, it allows the mind neither to remain in a permanent faith nor to
be subject to rule. For if virtue itself is only a vague entity, which has r_o
fixed foundation — a being which is fed on illusions, and which cannot eudur..
the application of any certain and constant rule, this holy necessity of doing
well, of constantly walking in the path of perfection, must be incompre'i •
sible to it, and in the highest degree repugnant; this necessity must app^.i *j
it inconsistent with liberty ; as if man, by binding himself by a vow, losi h- 1
free will ; as if the sanction which a promise given to God imparts to a d~ '.ir,<,,
at all diminished the merit of him who has the firmness necessary to accomplish
what he had the courage to promise.

Those who, to condemn this necessity which man imposes on himself, invoke
the rights of liberty against it, seem to forget that this effort of man to make
himself the slave of good, and secure his own future, besides the sublime dis
interestedness which it supposes, is the vastest exercise which man can make of
his liberty. By one act alone, he disposes of his whole lift-, and by fulfilling
the duties resulting from that act, he continually fulfils his own will. But we
shall be told that man is so inconstant : this is the reason why, in order to pre
vent the effects of this inconstancy, he finds himself penetrating into the vicis
situdes of the future, renders himself superior to them, and governs them in
advance. But, it will be said, in that case, good is done from necessity : this
is true ; but do you not know that the necessity of doing good is a happy one,
and in some measure assimilates man with God ? Do you not know that Infi
nite Goodness is incapable of doing evil, and Infinite Holiness can do nothing
that is not holy ? Theologians explain why a created being is capable of sin
ning by pointing out this profound reason. u It is," they say, " because the
creature is made out of nothing." When man forces himself, as far as he can,
to do well, when he thus fetters his will, he ennobles it, he renders himself more
lite to God, he assimilates himself to the state of the blessed, who have no
longer the melancholy liberty of doing evil, and who are under the happy
necessity of loving God.

The name of liberty, from the time when Protestants and false philosophers
took possession of it, seems condemned to be ill understood in all its applica*
tions. In the religious, moral, social, and political order, it is enveloped in such
Dbscurity, that we can perceive the many efforts which have been made to darkaa
and misrepresent it. Cicero gives an adm:~able definition of liberty when b«

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 229

gays, that it consists in being the slave of law. In the same way it may be said,
that the liberty of the intellect consists in being tho slave of truth ; and the
liberty of the will in being the slave of virtue ; if you change this, you destroy
liberty. If you take away the law, you admit force ; if you take away the
truth, you admit error ; if you take away virtue, you admit vice. If you ven
ture to exempt the world from the external law, from that law which embraces
man and society, which extends to all orders, which is the divine wisdom ap
plied to reasonable creatures ; if you venture to seek for an imaginary liberty
out of that immense circle, you destroy all ; there remains in society nothing
but the empire of brute force, and in man that of the passions ; with tyranny,
and consequently slavery.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN HISTORY. THE FIRST SOLITARIES.

1 HAVE just examined religious institutions in a general point of view, by
considering them in their relations with religion and the human mind. I am
now going to take a glance at the principal points of their history. This exami
nation, I think, will show us an important truth : viz. that the appearance of
these institutions under different forms has been the expression and the fulfil
ment of great moral necessities, and a powerful means, in the hands of Provi
dence, of promoting not only the spiritual good of the Church, but also the
salvation and regeneration of society. It will be understood that it is not pos
sible for me to enter into details, or pass in review the numerous religious
institutions which have existed ; besides, this is not necessary for my object. I
shall limit myself, therefore, to running over the principal phases of religious
institutes, and making a few remarks on each of them; I shall act like the
traveller who, being unable to make a stay in the country through which he
passes, looks at it for a short time from the highest points. I will begin with
the solitaries of the East.

The Colossus of the Roman Empire threatened an approaching and stunning
fall : the spirit of life was rapidly becoming extinguished, and there was na
longer any hope of a breath to reanimate it. The blood circulated slowly in its
veins; the evil was incurable: the symptoms of corruption everywhere mani
fested themselves, and this agony was exactly coincident with the critical and
formidable hour when it was necessary to collect all its forces to resist the
violent shock which was about to destroy it. The barbarians appeared on the
frontiers of the empire, like the carnivorous animals attracted by the exhala
tions of a dead body; and at this crisis society found itself on the eve of a
fearful catastrophe. All the world was about to undergo an alarming change ;
the next day was not likely to resemble the last ; the tree was about to be torn
up; but its roots were too deep for it to be extirpated without changing the
whole face of the soil where it was planted. The greatest refinement had to
contend with barbarian ferocity, — the effeminate luxury of southern nations
with the energy of the robust sons of the forest; the result of the struggle
could not be doubtful. Laws, customs, manners, monuments, arts and sciences,
— all the civilization and refinement acquired during the course of many ages
was all in peril, all foreboded approaching ruin, all understood that God had
appointed an end Lo the power, and even the existence of the rulers of the
globe. The barbarians were only the instrument of Providence; the hand which
had given a mortal blow to the mistress of the world, the queen of nations, was
that formidable hand which touches mountains with tire, and reduces them to
*§hes, which touches the rocks and tuelts them like metal; it was ^b? hand of

'230 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

Him who sends forth His fiery breath upon the nations, and burns them up
like straw.

The world must be the prey of chaos for a short time ; but was not light
again to come upon it ? Was mankind to be melted, like gold in the furnace,
in order to come out more brilliant and more pure? Were ideas respecting God
and man to be corrected ? Were more delicate and exalted notions of morality
to be diffused ? Was it reserved for the heart of man to receive more grave
nd sublime inspirations, to emerge from its corrupt state, and live in an atmo
sphere higher and more worthy of an immortal being? Yes ! Providence thus
decreed, and His infinite wisdom has brought about this end by ways which
man could not understand.

Christianity was already spread over the face of the world ; her holy doc
trines, rendered fruitful by grace, prepared the complete regeneration of the
world ; but it was necessary that mankind should again receive a new impulse
from her divine hands, that the mind of man should be moved by a new shock,
that it might take its proper flight, and raise itself at once to the exalted posi
tion which was intended for it, and from which it was never to descend. His
tory tells us of the obstacles which opposed the establishment and development
of Christianity. According to the warlike expression of the Prophet, God was
compelled to assume His sword and buckler ; by the strength of wonderful pro
digies, He broke the resistance of the passions, destroyed every knowledge
which raised itself against the knowledge of God, scattered all the powers
which rebelled against Him, and extinguished the pride and obstinacy of hell.
When, after three centuries of persecution, victory declared itself throughout
the world in favor of the true religion ; when the temples of the false gods
were deserted, and those idols which were not yet overthrown trembled on their
pedestals; when the sign of Calvary was inscribed on the Labarum of the
Caesars, and the legions of the -empire bowed religiously before the Cross, then
had the moment arrived for Christianity to realize, in a permanent manner, in
those sublime institutions conceived and established by herself alone, the lofty
counsels given three centuries before in Palestine. The wisdom of philosophers
had been vain ; the time was come to realize the wisdom of the Carpenter of
Nazareth, of Him who, without having consulted human learning, had pro
claimed and taught truths unknown to the most privileged of mortals.

The virtues of the Christians had already emerged from the obscurity of the
catacombs ; they were to be resplendent in the light of heaven and amid peace,
as they had formerly shone in the depths of dungeons and amid the flames.
Christianity had obtained possession of the sceptre of command, as of the
domestic hearth ; her disciples, who now were multitudinous, no longer lived in
a community of goods ; it is clear that entire continence, and complete freedom
from all earthly things, could no longer be the mode of life of the regenerated
families. The world was to continue ; the duration of the human race was not
to cease at this point of its career; therefore, all Christians were not to observe
the lofty counsels which convert the life of man on earth into the angelic. A
great number of them were to belong to those who, in order to obtain eternal
life, were satisfied with keeping the precepts, without aspiring to the sublime
perfection which results from the renouncement of all that is earthly, and the
complete abnegation of self. Yet the Founder of the Christian religion was
unwilling that the counsels which He had given to men should be for a moment
without some disciples amid the coldness and dissipation of the world. He had
not given them in vain j and, besides, the practice of them, although confined
to a limited number of thr faithful, exerted on all sides a beneficent influence
frhich facilitated and secured the observance of the precepts. The force of
example exerts so powerful an ascendency over the human heart, that it is often
lufficient of itself to triumph over the strongest and most obstinate resistance

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 231

there is something in our hearts which inclines them to sympathize tfith all
that approaches them, whether good or evil ; and there seems to be a seoret
stimulus urging us to follow others, whatever direction they may take. There
fore it is that there are so many advantages in the establishment of religious
institutions, in which the virtues and austerity of life are given as an example to
the generality of men, and make an eloquent reproach to the errors of passion.

Providence desired to attain this great end by singular and extraordinary
means; the Spirit of God breathed on the earth, and immediately the men and
power to commence this great work appeared. The frightful deserts of Theba'id,
the burning solitudes of Arabia, Palestine, and Syria, show us men rudely clad,
with a mantle of goat-skin on their shoulders, and a plain cowl on their heads :
behold all the luxury with which they confound the vanity and pride of world
lings ! Their bodies, exposed to the rays of the most burning sun and the
most severe cold, besides being attenuated by long fasts, resemble walking
spectres who have arisen from the dust of their sepulchres. The herbs of the
earth are their only food, water their only drink; the labor of their hands pro
cures for them the scanty resources they require. Under the direction of a
venerable old man, whose claims to rule are a long life passed in the desert, and
hairs grown white amid privations and austerities, they constantly keep the
profoundest silence; their lips are opened only to pronounce the words of
prayer; their voice is only heard to intone a hymn of praise to God. For them
the world has ceased to exist ; the relations of friendship, the sweet ties of
family and relationship, are all broken by a spirit of perfection, carried to an
extent which surpasses all earthly considerations. The cares of property do
not disturb them ; before retiring to the desert, they have abandoned all to hin»
who was to succeed them ; or they have sold all they had, and given the pric<?
to the poor. The Holy Scriptures are the nourishment of their minds; they
learn by heart the words of that divine book ; they meditate on them unceas
ingly, beseeching the Lord to grant that they may understand them aright. In
their retired meetings, nothing is heard but the voice of some venerable ceno-
bite, explaining with naive simplicity and touching unction the sense of the
sacred text ; but always in such a way as to draw profit for the purification of
souls.

The number of these solitaries was so great that we could not credit it, if it
were not vouched for by eye-witnesses worthy of the highest respect. As to
their sanctity, spirit of penance, and purity of life, we cannot doubt them after
the testimonies of Rufinus, Palladius, St. Jerome, St. John Chrysostom, St. Au
gustine, and all the other illustrious men who distinguished themselves at that
time. The fact is singular, extraordinary, prodigious; but no one can question
its historical truth ; it is attested by all who came to the desert from all parts to
seek for light in their doubts, cures for their evils, and pardon for their sins. I
could quote a thousand authorities to prove what I have said ; but I will content
myself with one, which shall suffice for all — that of St. Augustine. Hear how
this holy doctor describes the life of these extraordinary men : "These fathers,
not only very holy in their manners, but very learned in the Christian doctrine,
excellent men in all respects, do not govern with pride those whom they justly
call their sons, on account of the high authority of those who command, and the
ready will of those who obey. At the decline of day, one of them, still fasting,
quits his habitation, and all assemble to hear their master. Each of these
fathers has at least three thousand under his direction; for the number is some
times much greater. They listen with incredible attenti >n, in profound silence,
manifesting by their groans, or tears, or by their modest and tranquil joy, the
various feelings which the discourse excites in their souls." (St. Augustin. lib. 1,
De Moribus Ecclesice, cap. 31.)

But it will be said, Of what use were these men, except for theii cwn sancti

232 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

fication ? what good did they do to society? what influence did they exert OE
ideas ? what change did they make in manners ? If we admit that this plant
of the desert was beautiful and fragrant, yet what did it avail? it remained
sterile. It certainly would be an error to think that so many thousands of soli
taries did not exercise great influence. In the first place, and to speak only of
what relates to ideas, we must observe, that the monasteries of the East arose
within reach, and under the eyes of, the schools of philosophy. Egypt ^was the
country where the cenobetic life flourished the most. Now every one is aware
of the high renown which the schools of Alexandria enjoyed a short time before
On all sides of the Mediterranean — on that border of land which, beginning in
Libya, terminates in the Black Sea — men's minds were at that time in a state
of extraordinary motion Christianity and Judaism, the doctrines of the East
and those of the West — all was collected and accumulated in this part of the
world ; the remains of the ancient schools of Greece were formed of the trea
sures, which the course of ages and the passage of the most famous nations of
the earth had brought to those countries. New and gigantic events were come
to throw floods of light upon the character and the value of ideas ; minds had
felt shocks which did not allow them any longer to be contented with the quiet
lessons contained in the dialogues of the ancient masters. From these famous
countries came the most eminent men of the early ages of Christianity; and we
know from their works the extent and elevation of mind which man had attained
at that time. Was it possible that a phenomenon so extraordinary — a girdle of
monasteries and hermitages, embracing this zone of the world, and showing
themselves in the face of the schools of philosophy — should not exert great influ
ence on men's minds? The ideas of the solitaries passed incessantly from the
desert into the towns ; since, in spite of all the care which they took to avoid
the contact of the world, the world sought and approached them, and continually
came to receive their inspirations.

When we see the nations crowd to the solitaries the most eminent for their
sanctity, to implore from their wisdom a remedy for suffering and a consolation
in misfortunes; when we see these venerable men impart, together with the
unction of the Gospel, the sublime lessons which they had learned during long
years of meditation and prayer in the silence of solitude, it is impossible not to
understand how mu,ch these communications must have contributed to correct
and elevate ideas relating to religion and morality, and to amend and purify
morals. Let us not forget that the human mind was, as it were, materialized by
;he corruption and grossness of the pagan religion? The worship of nature, of
sensible forms, was so deeply rooted that, in order to raise minds to the concep
tion of superior things, a strong and extraordinary reaction was required ; it
was necessary in some measure to annihilate matter in order to present to man
only the mind. The life of the solitaries was the best adapted to produce this
effect. In reading the history of these times, we seem to find ourselves trans
ported out of this world ; the flesh has disappeared, and there remains nothing
but the spirit; and the force which has been employed in order to subdue the
flesh is such — they rave insisted so much on the vanity of earthly things — that
reality itself is changed into illusion, and the physical world vanishes to make
way for the moral and intellectual; all the ties of earth have been broken; man
puts himself in intimate communication with Heaven. Miracles multiply exceed
ingly in these lives; apparitions continually appear; the abodes of the solitaries
are arenas where earthly means are nothing ; good angels struggle against de
mons, heaven against hell, G-od against Satan : the earth is there only to serve
as a field of battle; the bo^y exists no longer except to be consumed as a holo
caust on the altars of virtue, ... Ne presence of the demon who struggle*
furiously to render it the slave of vice.

Wl at has became of the idolatrous worship whbh Greece paid to sensible

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 235

forms, that adoration which it offered to nature by deifying all that wa.s deli
cious and beautiful, all that could interest the senses and the heart? What a
profound change ! the same senses are subjected to the most severe privations ;
they are most strictly circumcised in heart; and man, who then scarcely at
tempted to raise his mind above the earth, now keeps it constantly fixed on
Heaven. It is impossible to form an idea of what we are attempting to describe,
without having read the lives of these solitaries; to understand all the effect of
their great prodigies, it is necessary to have spent many hours over these pages
where, so to speak, nothing is found which follows the natural course of things
It is not enough to imagine pure lives, austerities, visions, and miracles ; it is
necessary to see all this collected together, and carried to the most wonderful
extent in the path of perfection.

If you refuse to acknowledge the action of grace in facts so surprising ; if you
will not see any supernatural effect in this religious movement ; I say more, if
you go so far as to suppose that the mortification of the flesh and the elevation
of the soul are carried to blamable exaggeration, still you cannot help allowing
that such a reaction was very likely to spiritualize ideas, to awaken the moral
and intellectual forces in man, and to concentrate all within himself, by giving
him the sentiment of that interior, intimate, and moral life, with which, until
then, he had not been occupied. The forehead which, till then, had been bent
towards the earth, was raised towards the Divinity; something nobler than
material enjoyments was offered to the mind, and the brutal excesses authorized
by the example of the false divinities of paganism, at length appeared an offence
against the high dignity of human nature.

In the moral order, the effect must have been immense. Man, until then,
had not even imagined that it was possible to resist the impetuosity of his pas
sions. There were found, it is true, in the cold morality of a few philosophers,
certain maxims intended to restrain the dangerous passions; but this morality
was only in the books, the world did not regard it as practicable, and if some
men attempted to realize it, they did so in such a manner that, far from giving
it credit, they rendered it contemptible. What did it avail to abandon riches
And profess freedom from all earthly things, as some philosophers did, if at the
same time they appeared so vain, so full of themselves, that it was evident that
they only sacrificed on the altar of pride ? It was to overturn all the idols in
order to place themselves on the altar, and reign there without rival gods ; this
was not to direct the passions, to subject them to reason, but to create a mon
ster passion surpassing and devouring all. Humility, the foundation-stone
whereon the solitaries raised the edifice of their virtue, placed them immediately
in a position infinitely superior to that of the ancient philosophers who were dis
tinguished for a life more or less severe. In fine, men were taught to avoid vice
and practise virtue, not for the futile pleasure of being regarded and admired
but for superior motives founded on the relations of man with God, and the
destinies of eternity. From that moment man knew that it was not impossible
for him to triumph over evil, in the obstinate struggle which he felt continually
going on within himself. At the sight of so many thousands of persons of
both sexes who followed a rule of life so pure and austere, mankind took fresh
courage, and were convinced that the paths of virtue were not impracticable for
them.

The generous confidence with which man was inspired by the sight of such
sublime examples, lost nothing of its strength in presence of the Christian
dogma, which does not allow actions meritorious of eternal life to be attributed
to man himself, and teaches him the necessity of divine aid, if he wishes to
escape the paths of perdition. This dogma, which, on the other hand, accords
BO well with the daily lessons of experience as to human frailty, far from destroy
ing th? strength of the mind or diminishing its courage, on the contrary, ani

SO n 2

234 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

mates it more and more to persevere in spite of all obstacles When man think*
himself alone, wlu.n he does not feel himself supported by the powerful hand
of Providence, he walks with the tottering steps of infancy; he wants confi
dence in himself, in his own strength ; the object he has in view seems too
distant, the enterprise too arduous, and he is discouraged. The dogma of grace,
as it is explained by the Catholic Church, is not thi t fatalist doctrine, the mo
ther of despair, which has hardened the heart among Protestants, as Grotius
laments. It is a doctrine which, leaving man all his free will, teaches him the
necessity of superior aid ; but that aid will be abundantly furnished him by the
infinite goodness of God, who has shed His blood for him in torments and igno
miny, and has breathed out for him His last sigh on Mount Calvary.

It seems as if Providence had been pleased to choose a climate where man
kind could make a trial of their strength vivified and sustained by grace. It
was under a sky apparently the most fatal for the corruption of the soul, in
countries where the relaxation of the body naturally leads to relaxation of mind,
and where even the air that they breathed inclined to pleasure, — it was there
that the greatest energy of mind was displayed, that the greatest austerities
were practised, and the pleasures of the senses were proscribed and banished
with the greatest severity. The solitaries fixed their abodes in deserts within
the influence of the balmy breezes of the neighboring lands ; from their moun
tains and sandy hills their eyes could distinguish the peaceful and smiling coun
tries which invited to pleasure and enjoyment ; like the Christian virgin who
abandoned her obscure cave to go and place herself in the hollow of a rock,
whence she saw the palace of her fathers overflowing with riches, pleasures,
and delights, while she herself lamented like a solitary dove in the holes of tho
rock. From that time all climates were good for virtue ; austerity of moral*
did not at all depend on the proximity of the equatorial line ; the morality of
man, like man himself, could live in all climates. When the most perfect con
tinence was practised in so wonderful a manner under the sky which we have
described, the monogamy of Christianity could well be established and pre
served. When, in the secrets of the Eternal, the time had arrived for calling
a people to the light of truth, it mattered not whether they lived amid the
snows of Scandinavia, or on the burning plains of India. The spirit of the
divine laws was not to be confined within the narrow circle which the Esprit
des Loix of Montesquieu has attempted to assign it.

CHAPTER XL.

ON RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE EAST.

THE influence exercised by the lives of the solitaries of the East over reli
gion and morality is beyond a doubt ; in truth it is not easy to appreciate it in
all its extent and in all its effects ; but it is not the less true and real on that
account. It has not marked the doctrines of humanity like those thundering
events the effects of which are often inadequate to their promises ; but it is like
a beneficial rain which, diffusing itself gently over the thirsty earth, fertilizes
the meadows and the fields. If it were possible for man to comprehend and
distinguish the vast assemblage of causes which have contributed to raise his
mind, to give him a lively consciousness of his immortality, and to render a
return to his ancient degradation almost impossible, perhaps it would be found
that the wonderful phenomenon of the Eastern solitaries had a considerable
share in that immense change. Let us not forget that from tlrence did the great
»eu of the East receive their inspiration j St. Jerome lived in a cave at Beth-

PKOTESTANT1SM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 235

, and the conversion of St. Augustine was accompanied by a hoi} emula
tion excited in his mind by reading the life of St. Anthony the Abbot.

The monasteries which were founded in the East and West in imitation of
these early establishments of the solitaries, were a continuation of them, although
with many differences, in consequence of times and circumstances. Thence came
the Basils, the Gregorics, the Chrysostoms, and so many distinguished men, the
glory of the Church. If a miserable spirit of dispute, ambition, and pride,
sowing the seeds of discord, had not prepared the rupture which was to deprive
the East of the vivifying influence of the Roman See, perhaps the ancient mo
nasteries of the East would have served, like those of the West, to prepare a
social regeneration, by forming one people out of the conquerors and the con
quered.

It is evident that the want of unity was one of the causes of the weakness
of the East ; I will not deny that their position was very different from ours ;
the enemy opposed to them did not at all resemble the barbarians of the North ;
but I am not sure that it was easier to subdue the latter than it was to rule the
nations by whom the East was conquered. In the East, the victory remained
with the aggressors, as with us ; but a conquered nation is not dead ; its defeat
does not take from it all the great advantages which are able, by giving it a
moral ascendency over the conquerors, to prepare, in silence, their transforma
tion, if not their expulsion. The northern barbarians conquered the South of
Europe ; but the South, in its turn, triumphed over them by the Christian reli
gion ; the barbarians were not driven out, but they were transformed. Spain
was conquered by the Arabs, and the Arabs could not be transformed ; but they
were driven out in the end. If the East had preserved unity, if Constantino
ple and the other episcopal sees had remained subject to Rome like those of the
West ; in a word, if all the East had been contented to be a member of a great
body, instead of having the ambitious pretensions of being a great body itself,
I consider it certain that, after the conquest of the Saracens, a struggle, at once
intellectual, moral, and physical, would have been engaged in; a profound
change would have been worked in the conquered nation, or the struggle
would have ended by the conquering barbarians being driven back to their
deserts.

It will be said that the transformation of the Arabs was the work of ages.
But was not that of the barbarians of the North so likewise? Was this great
work finished by their conversion to Christianity ? A considerable part of them
were Arians; and besides, they understood the Christian ideas so ill, they
found the practice of Gospel morality so difficult, that for a long time it was
almost as difficult to treat with them as with nations of a different religion. On
the other hand, let us not forget that the irruption of the barbarians was not a
solitary event; an event which, when once finished, did not recur; it was con
tinued for ages. But the force of the religious principle in the West was such,
that all the ^invading nations were compelled to retire, or were forced to bend
to the ideas and manners of the countries they had recently acquired. The
defeat of the hordes of Attila, the victories of Charlemagne over the Saxons
and the other nations beyond the Rhine, the successive conversion of the various
idolatrous nations of the North by means of the missionaries sent from Rome,
— in fine, the vicissitudes and the final result of the invasions of the Normans,
and the ultimate triumph of the Christians of Spain over the Moors after a war
of eight centuries, are so many decisive proofs of what I have just laid down —
viz. that the West, vivified and fortified by Catholic unity, had had the secret
of assimilating and appropriating to itself all that it was not able to reject, and
the force to reject all that it could not make its own.

This is what was wanting in the East: the enterprise was not more difficult
there than in the West. If the West alone was able to liberate the IIolj So-

236 PROTESTANTlSiM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

pulchre, the "West and East together would never have lost it ; or, at least, afte/
having freed it, they would have kept it for ever. The same cause prevented
the monasteries of the East from attaining to the same vitality and energy
which distinguished those of the West ; therefore, they have always betn seen
to grow weak with time, without producing any thing great, and capable of pre-
vc nting social dissolution, of silently preparing and slowly elaborating, regene
ration for posterity, after the calamities with which it pleased Providence to
afflict ancient times. He who has seen in history the brilliant commencement
of the Eastern monasteries, cannot behold without pain the decline of their
strength and splendor in the course of ages, after the ravages caused by inva
sion, wars, and finally, the deadly influence of the schism of Constantinople ;
the ancient abodes of so many men illustrious for science and sanctity gradually
disappeared from the page of history like expiring lamps, or the dying fires of
an abandoned camp.

Immense injury was done to all the branches of human knowledge by this
decline, which, after having rendered the East barren, ended by destroying it.
If we pay attention, we shall see that, amid the great shocks and revolutions
which disturbed Europe, Africa, and Asia, the natural refuge for the remaim
of ancient knowledge, was not the West, but the East It was not in our mo
nasteries that the books, and other intellectual riches, of which quieter and
happier generations were one day to enjoy the benefit, should naturally have
been preserved ; this, it would seem, belonged to the monasteries of the eastern
countries; those lands, where the most different civilizations were brought
together and commingled as on neutral ground; those regions, where the
human mind had displayed the greatest activity, and taken the highest nights ;
where the most abundant treasures of tradition and sciences, and the beauties
of art were accumulated ; in a word, it was in this vast mart of all the riches
of the civilization and refinement of all nations, — it was in this sanctuary and
museum of antiquity, that the intellectual patrimony of future generations
ought to have been preserved.

Let it not, however, be supposed that the monasteries of the East were of no
service to the human mind; the science and literature of Europe are still mind
ful of the impulse which was communicated to them, by the arrival of the pre
cious materials thrown upon the coasts of Italy, after the taking of Constanti
nople : but even these riches, brought to Europe by a few men, driven upon
our shores by a tempest, came to us, like the remains of a shipwrecked crew,
who, after having with difficulty saved their lives from the fury of the waves,
have only preserved in their benumbed hands some gold and a few precious
stones.

For this reason, precisely, do we lament, because from the example we have
adduced, we are enabled the better to understand the immense riches of the
vessel which was lost ; this makes us grieve the more bitterly that the early
times of the illustrious cenobites of the East have not been brought down to
our day by a continued chain. When we see their works overflow with sacred
and profane learning, when their labors show us proofs of indefatigable activity,
we think with sorrow of the inestimable treasures which their libraries must
have contained.

Yet, in spite of the justness of the melancholy reflections we have here made,
it must be allowed that the influence of these monasteries never ceased to be
extremely useful to the preservation of knowledge. The Arabs, in the times
of their success, showed themselves to be intelligent and cultivated ; and Eu
rope, in many respects, is indebted to them for much advancement. Bagdad
and Grenada, during the middle ages, are two brilliant centres of intellectual
movement and art, which serve not a little to diminish the sombre effect of the
baibarities of Islamism : the) are two tranquil and pleasing features in a fright-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 237

ful picture. If it were possible to follow the history of intellectual develop
ment among the Arabs, through the transformations and catastrophes of the
East, perhaps we should find in the sciences of the Latious which they con
quered or destroyed the origin of much of their progress. It is certain that
their own civilization did not contain any vital principle favorable to the
development of the mind ; we have a proof of this in their religious and social
organization, and in the small results which they obtained, after having been
for so many centuries peacefully established in the conquered countries. Their
whole system, with respect to letters and intellectual cultivation, is founded on
that stupid maxim, uttered by one of their chiefs, when he condemned an im
mense library to the flames : u If these books are contrary to the Alcoran, they
should be burnt as pernicious ; if they are not contrary to it, they should be
burnt as useless."

We read in Palladius, that the monks of Egypt did not content themselves
with working with rude and simple objects, but that they devoted themselves
to labors of all kinds. These chousands of men, who, belonging to all classes
and to all countries, embraced the solitary life, must have brought to the desert
a large treasure of knowledge. We know how far the human inind can go
when left to itself, and applied to a fixed occupation ; there is always some
reason for thinking that a great part of the valuable ideas on the secrets of
nature, the utility and properties of certain ingredients, the principles of some
of the arts and sciences, knowledge which formed the rich patrimony of the
Arabs at the time when they appeared in Europe, were nothing but the remains
of ancient learning, gathered by them in countries which had formerly been
inundated by men from all parts. We must remember that at the time of the
first invasions of the northern barbarians, when Spain, the south of France,
Italy, the north of Africa, and all the islands adjacent to these countries, were
ravaged by these terrible men, the East became a refuge, an asylum, for all
those who could undertake the voyage. Thus the treasures of Western science
accumulated every day in these countries; this emigration from all the Western
regions may have contributed, in an extraordinary manner, to convey to the East
the remains of ancient knowledge, which afterwards came to us transformed and
disfigured by the hands of the Arabs.

Doeply convinced of the nothingness of the world by so long a succession of
heavy misfortunes, these unfortunate men felt the religious sentiment strength
ened in their hearts ; the fugitives assembled in the East listened with lively
emotion to the energetic words of the solitary of the cave of Bethlehem. A
great many of them retired into the monasteries, where they found relief for
their wants, and consolation for their souls ; thus did the Eastern monasteries
gain a great addition of valuable knowledge and information of all sorts.

If European civilization one day become complete mistress of the countries
which now groan under the Mussulman yoke, perhaps it will be given to the
history of science to add a noble page to its labors, when, through the obscu
rities of thfe times, and by means of manuscripts discovered by curiosity or
chance, she shall have found the thread which shall lead to a knowledge of the
connection of Arabian science with that of antiquity. The succession of trans
formations will then be displayed, and we shall understand how the science of
the sons of Omar has appeared to have a diiferent origin in our eyes. The
archives of Spain contain, in documents relating to the dominion of the Sa <i
cens, riches, the examination of which may be said not yet to be comim ucevi ;
perhaps they wil\ throw some light on this point. There is no doubt that they
afford matter for careful investigation, extremely curious for appreciating these
two very different civilizations, the Mohammedan and the Christian

CHAPTER XLI.

OP XELiGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WEST.

LET UP now examine religious institutions, such as they appear in the T\ est,
out laying aside those which, although established in various, parts x>f th«
West, were only a sort of ramification of the Eastern monasteries. We observe
that the religious establishments among us added to the Gospel spirit, the prin
ciple of their foundation, a new character, that of conservative, restorative, and
regenerative associations. The monks of the West were not content with sanc
tifying themselves ; from the first they influenced society. The light and life
which their holy abodes contained, labored to enlighten and fertilize the chaos
of the world. I do not know in history a nobler or more consoling spectacle
than that which is presented to us by the foundation, existence, and developr
ment of the religious institutions of Europe. Society had need of strong efforts
to preserve its life in the terrible crisis through which it had to pass. The secret
of strength is in the union of individual forces, in association ; and it is remark
able that this secret has been taught to European society as if by a revelation
from heaven. Every thing shakes, falls to pieces, and perishes. Religion,
morality, public authority, laws, manners, sciences, and arts — every thing has
sustained immense losses, every thing goes to ruin ; and judging of the future
fate of the world according to human probabilities, the evils are so great and
numerous that a remedy appears impossible.

The observer who, fixing his eyes upon those desolate times, finds there St.
Bennet giving life to and animating the religious institutions, organizing them,
giving them his wise rule and stability, imagines that he sees an angel of light
issuing from the bosom of darkness. Nothing can be imagined better calcu
lated to restore to dissolved society a principle of life capable of reorganizing
it, than the extraordinary and sublime inspiration which guided this man. Who
does not know what at that time was the condition of Italy — I should rather
say, of the whole of Europe ? What ignorance, what corruption, what elements
of social dissolution ! What desolation everywhere ! and it is amid this deplo
rable state of things that the holy solitary appears, the child of an illustrious
family of Norcia, resolved to combat the evil which threatens to invade the
•vorld. His arms are his virtues ; the eloquence of his example gives him an
irresistible ascendency ; elevated above the whole age, burning with zeal, and
yet full of prudence and discretion, he founds that institution which is to re
main amid the revolution of ages, like the pyramids unmoved by the storms of
the desert.

What idea has there been more grand, more beneficent, more full of fore
sight and wisdom ? At a time when knowledge and virtue had no longer an
asylum, when ignorance, corruption, and barbarism rapidly extended their con
quests, was it not a grand idea to raise a refuge for misfortune, to form a
sacred deposit for the precious monuments of antiquity, and to open schools of
knowledge and virtue, where men destined one day to figure in the vortox. of
the world might come for instruction? When the reflecting man fixes his
attention on the silent abode of Monte Cassino, where the sons of the most
illustrious families of the empire are seen to come from all parts to that monas
tery j some with the intention of remaining there for ever, others to receive a
good education, and soon to carry back to the world a recollection of the serious
inspirations which the holy founder had received at Subiaco ; when the monas
teries of the order are seen to multiply everywhere, to be established as great
centres of activity in all places — in the plains, in the forests, in the most unic
habited countries ; he cannot help bending, with profound veneration, before

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 23S-

the extra ordinary man who has conceived such grand designs. If we art
unwilling to acknowledge in St. Bennet a man inspired by Heaven, at least we
ought to consider him as one of those geniuses who, from time to time, appear
on earth to become the tutelary angels of the human race.

Not to acknowledge the powerful effect of such institutions would be to show
but little intelligence. When society is dissolved, it requires not words, no'
projects, not laws, but strong institutions, to resist the shock of the passions
the inconstancy of the human mind, and the destructive power of events ; in
stitutions which raise the mind, pacify and ennoble the heart, and establish in
society a deep movement of reaction and resistance to the fatal elements which
lead it to destruction. If there exists, then, an active mind, a generous heart,
a soul animated by a feeling of virtue, they will all hasten to seek a refuge iD
the sacred asylums ; it is not always granted to them to change the course of
the world, but at least, as men of solitude and sacrifice, they labour to instruct
and calm their own minds, and they shed a tear of compassion over the sense
less generations who are agitated by great disasters. From time to time they
succeed in making their voices heard amid the tumult, to alarm the hearts of
the wicked by accents which resemble the formidable warnings of Heaven ;
thus they diminish the force of the evil while it is impossible to prevent it
entirely ; by constantly protesting against iniquity, they prevent its acquiring
prescriptive right ; in attesting to future generations, by a solemn testimony,
that there were always, amid darkness and corruption, men who made efforts to
enlighten the world and to restrain the torrent of vice and crime, they preserve
faith in truth and virtue, and they reanimate the hopes of those who are after
wards placed in similar circumstances. Such was the action of the monks in
the calamitous times of which we speak ; such was their noble and sublime
mission to promote the interests of humanity.

Perhaps it will be said that the immense properties acquired by the monas-
t( ries were an abundant recompense for their labors, and perhaps also a proof
that their exertions were little disinterested. No doubt, if we look at things in
the light in which certain writers have represented them, the wealth of the
monks will appear as the fruit of unbounded cupidity, of cruelty, and perfidious
policy; but we have the whole of history to refute the calumnies of the ene
mies of religion ; and impartial philosophy, while acknowledging that all that
is human is liable to abuse, takes care to assume a higher position, to regard
Hikings en masse, and to consider them in the vast picture where so many centu
ries have painted their features. It therefore despises the evil, which is only
the exception, while it contemplates and admires the good, which is the rule.

Besides the numerous religious motives which brought property into the
hands of the monks, there is another very legitimate one, which has always
been regarded as one of the justest titles of acquisition. T^e monks cultivated
waste lands, dried up marshes, constructed roads, restrained rivers within their
beds, and built bridges over them ; that is to say, in countries which had under
gone another kind of general deluge, they renewed, in some measure, what the
first nations had done to restore the revolutionized globe to its original form
A considerable portion of Europe had never received cultivation from the handd
of men ; the forests, the rivers, the lakes, the thorny thickets, were as rough a*
they had been left by the hands of nature. The monasteries which were
founded here and there may be regarded as the centres of action, which the
civilized nations established in the new countries, the faces of which they pro
posed to change by their powerful colonies. Did there ever exist a more legiti
mate title for the possession of large properties ? Is not he who reclaims a
waste country, cultivates it, and fills it with inhabitants, worthy of preserving
largo possessions there ? Is not this the natural course of things '( Who knowi
how many cities and towns arose and flourished under the shadow of the abbeys' 'i

240 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Monastic properties, besides their substantial utility, had anothe: which per
haps has not been sufficiently noticed. The situation of a great part of the
nations of Europe, at the time we speak of, much resembled the state of fluc
tuation and inconstancy in which nations are found, who have not yet made any
progress in the career of civilization and refinement. The idea of property
one of the most fundamental in all social organization, was but little rooted
Attacks on property at that time were very frequent, as well as attacks von per
sons. The man who is constantly compelled to defend his own, is also con
stantly led to usurp the property of others ; the first thing to do to remedy sc
great an evil, was to locate and fix the population by means of the agricultural
life, and to accustom them to respect for property, not only by reasons drawn
from morality and private interest, but also by the sight of large domains be
longing to establishments regarded as inviolable, and against which a hand
could not be raised without sacrilege. Thus religious ideas were connected with
social ones, and they slowly prepared an organization which was to be completed
in more peaceable times.

Add to this a new necessity, the result of the change which took place at
that time in the habits of the people. Among the ancients, scarcely any other
life than that of cities was known ; life in the country, that dispersion of an
immense population, which in modern times forms a new nation in the fields,
w?s not known among the ancients ; and it is remarkable that this change in
thi mode of life was realized exactly when the most calamitous circumstances
seamed to render it the most dangerous and difficult. It is to the existence of
th i monasteries in fields and in retired places that we owe the establishment
and consolidation of this new kind of life, which, no doubt, would have been
impossible without the ascendency and the beneficial influence of the powerful
abbeys. These religious foundations joined all the riches and the power of feu
dal lords with the mild and beneficent influence of religious authority.

How much does not Germany owe to the monks ! Did they not bring her
lands into cultivation, make her agriculture flourish, and cover her with a
numerous population ? How much are not France, Spain, and England indebted
to them ! It is certain that this latter country would never have reached the
high degree of civilization of which she now boasts, if the apostolic labors of the
missionaries who penetrated thither in the sixth century had not drawn her out
of the darkness of gross idolatry. And who were these missionaries ? Waa
not the chief of them Augustine, a monk full of zeal, sent by a Pope who had
also been a monk, St. Gregory the Great ? Where do you find, amid the confu
sion of the middle ages, the great writers of knowledge and virtue, except in
those solitary abodes whence issue St. Isidore, the Archbishop of Seville ; the
holy abbot St. Columbanus ; St. Aurelian, Bishop of Aries ; St. Augustine, the
Apostle of England ; that of Germany, St. Boniface ; Bede, Cuthbert, Auperth,
Paul, monks of Monte Cassino ; Hincmar of Rheims, brought up at the monas
tery of St. Denis ; St. Peter Damiens, St. Ives, Lanfranc, and so many others,
who form a generation of distinguished men, resembling in no respect the other
men of their time.

Besides the service rendered to society by the monks in religion and morals,
they conferred inestimable benefits on letters and science. It has already been
observed more than once, that letters took refuge in the cloisters, and that the
monks, by preserving and copying the ancient manuscripts, prepared the mate*
rials which were one day to assist in the restoration of human learning. But
we must not limit their merit to that of mere copyists. Many of them advanced
far in science, many ages in advance of the times in which they lived. Not
content with the laborious task of preserving and putting into order the ancient
manuscripts, they rendered the most eminent service to history by compiling
ehronioles. Thereby, while continuing the tradition of the most important

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 241

Branches of study, they collected the contemporary history, which, perhaps,
without their labor would have been lost. Adon, Archbishop of Vienne,
brought up in the Abbey of Ferriere, writes a universal history, from the be
ginning of the world to his own time ; Abbon, monk of St. Germain-des-Pre's,
composes a Latin poem, in which he relates the siege of Paris by the Normans j
Aymon of Aquitaine writes the history of the French in four books ; St. Ive?
publishes a chronicle of their kings ; the German monk Witmar leaves us the
chronicle of , Henry I., of the Kings Otho and Henry II., which is much
esteemed for its candor, and has been published many times ; Leibnitz has u?ed
it to throw light on the history of Brunswick. Adhemar is the author of a
chronicle, which embraces the whole time from 829 to 1029. Glaber, monk
of Cluny, has composed a much-esteemed history of the events which happened
in France from 980 to his own time ; Herman, a chronicle which embraces the
six ages of the world down to the year 1054. In fine, we should never finish
if we were to mention the historical labors of Sigebert, Guibert, Hugh, Prior
of St. Victor, and so many other illustrious men, who, rising above their times,
applied themselves to labors of this kind ; of which we cannot easily appreciate
the difficulty and the high degree of merit, we who live in an age when the
means of knowledge are become so easy, when the accumulated riches of so
many ages are inherited, and when we find on all sides wide and well-beater
paths. Without the existence of religious institutions, without the asylum ol
the cloisters, these eminent men would never have been formed. Not only had
the sciences and letters been lost sight of, but ignorance was so great, that
seculars who knew how to read and write were very rare. Surely such circum
stances were not well adapted to form men of merit enough to do honor to ad
vanced ages. Who has not often paused to contemplate the distinguished tri
umvirate, Peter the Venerable, St. Bernard, and the Abbot Suger ? May it not
be said that the twelfth century is elevated above its rank in history, by pro
ducing a writer like Peter the Venerable, an orator like St. Bernard, and a
statesman like Suger ?

These ages show us another celebrated monk, whose influence on the progress
of knowledge has not been rated at its just value by many critics who love only
to point out defects : I mean Gratian. Those who have declaimed against him,
eager to look for his«mistakes, should have placed themselves in the position of
a compiler in the thirteenth century, at a time when all resources were wanting,
when the lights of criticism were yet to be created ; they would then have seen
whether the bold enterprise of the monk was not attended with more success
than there was reason to hope for. The profit which was drawn from the col
lection of Gratian is incalculable. By giving in a small compass a great part
of what was most precious in antiquity with respect to civil and canon law ; by
making an abundant collection of texts from the holy fathers, applied to all
kinds of subjects, he awakened a taste for that species of research ; he created
the study of them ; he made an immense step towards satisfying one of the first
necessities of modern nations, the formation of civil and ecclesiastical codes. It
will be said that the errors of Gratian were contagious, and that it would have
been better to have recourse directly to the originals ; but to read the originals
it was necessary to know them ; it was necessary to be informed of their exist
ence, to be excited by the desire of explaining a proposed difficulty, to have
acquired a taste for researches of that kind ; all this was wanting before Gra
tian ; all this was brought out by his enterprise. The- general favor with
which his labors were received is the most convincing proof of their merit ; and
>f it be objected that this favor was owing to the ignorance of the time, I will
;eply, that we owe a tribute of gratitude to any one who throws a ray of light
on the darkness, however feeble and wavering this ray may be.

242

CHAPTER XLIL

OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS DURING THE SECOND HALi OP THE MIDDLE
AGES. THE MILITARY ORDERS.

THE rapid view which we have just taken of religious institutions from the
irruption of the barbarians to the twelfth century, has shown us that tlte monas.
tic foundations, during that time, were a powerful support for that remaining
portion of society which was ready to fall to pieces in the universal ruin ; an
asylum for misfortune, for virtue, and for knowledge ; a storehouse for the pre^
cious monuments of antiquity, and in some measure an assemblage of civilizing
associations, which labored in silence at the reconstruction of the social edifice,
by neutralizing the force of the dissolving principles which had ruined its basis ;
ihey were, besides, a nursery for forming the men who were required for the
elevated posts in Church and State. In the twelfth and the following centu
ries, these institutions take a new form, and assume a character very different
from that which we have just pointed out. Their aim remains not less highly
religious and social ; but the times are changed, and we must remember the
words of the Apostle, omnia omnibus. Let us examine the causes and the
results of these novelties.

Before going further, I will say a few words on the religious military orders,
the name of which sufficiently indicates their double character of monk and sol
dier. The .union of the monastic state with war : what a monstrous mixture !
will be the cry. In spite of the supposed monstrosity, this union was in con
formity with the natural and regular order of things ; it was a strong remedy
applied to very great evils ; a rampart against imminent dangers ; in a word,
the expression of a great European necessity. This is not the place to relate
the annals of the military orders, annals which, like the most illustrious history,
afford wonderful and interesting pictures, with that mixture of heroism and reli
gious inspiration which assimilates history with poetry. It is enough to pro
nounce the names of the knights of the Temple, of St. John of Jerusalem, of
the Teutonic order, of St. Raymond, of the Abbot of Fitero, of Calatrava,
instantly to remind the reader of a long series of marvellous events, forming
one of the noblest pages in the history of that time. Let us omit these narra
tions, which do not regard us ; but let us pause for a moment to examine the
origin and spirit of these famous institutions.

The Cross and the Crescent were enemies irreconcilable by nature, and urged
to the greatest fury by a long and bloody struggle. Both had great power and
vast designs; both were supported by brave nations, full of enthusiasm and
ready to throw themselves on each other; both had great hopes of success
founded on former achievements; on which side will the victory remain ? What
course ought the Christians to pursue in order to avoid the dangers which
threaten them ? Is it better quietly to await the attack of the Mussulmen in
Europe, or make a levy en masse to invade Asia and seek the enemy in his own
country, where he believes himself to be invincible ? The problem was solved
in the latter way; the Crusades took place, and centuries have given their suf
frage as to the wisdom of that resolution. What avails a little declamation
affecting to favor the cause of justice and humanity ? Let no one allow himself
to be dazzled ; the philosophy of history taught by the lessons of experience,
enriched with a more abundant treasure of knowledge, the fruit of a more atten
tive study of the facts, has given a decisive judgment in this case ; in this, aa
in other cases, religion has retired in triumph from the tribunal of philosophv.
The Crusades, far from being considered as an act of barbarism and rashness,
are justly regarded as a chef-d'oeuvre of policy, which, after having secured the
independence of Europe, gave to the Christian nations a decided preponderance

IROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 24o

Dver the Mussulmen. The military spirit was thereby increased and strength
ened among European nations; they all received a feeling of fraternity, which
transformed them into one people ; the human mind was developed in many
ways ; the state of feudal vassals was improved, and feudality was urged towards
its entire ruin ; navies were created, commerce and manufactures were encou
raged ; thus society received from the Crusades a most powerful impulse in the
career of civilization. We do not mean to say, that the men who conceived
them, the Popes who excited, the nations who undertook, the princes and lordf
who promoted them with their power, were aware of the whole extent of their
own works, or even had a glimpse of the immensity of their results; it is enough
that they settled the existing question in the way the most favorable to the
independence and prosperity of Europe ; this, I repeat, is enough. I would
observe, moreover, that we should attribute so much the more importance to
things as human foresight has had little share in the events; now these things
are nothing less than the principles and feelings of religion in connection with
the preservation and happiness of society, Catholicity covering with her aegis
and animating with her breath the civilization of Europe.

Such were the Crusades. Now, remember that this idea, so great and
generous, was conceived with a degree of vagueness, and executed with that
precipitation which is the fruit of the impatience of ardent zeal ; remember that
this idea — the offspring of Catholicity, which always converts its ideas into
institutions — was to be realized in an institution, which faithfully represented
it, and served, as it were, as its organ, in order that it might render itself felt,
md gain strength and fruitfulness for its support. After this, you will look for
some means of uniting religion and arms; and you will be filled with joy when,
under a cuirass of steel, ^ :*i shall find hearts zealous for the religion of Jesus
Christ — when you shall see this new kind of men, who devote themselves with
out reserve to the defence of religion, while they renounce all that the world
can offer — gentler than lambs, bolder than lions, in the words of St. Bernard.
Sometimes they assembled in oommunity, to raise their voices to Heaven in
fervent prayer; sometimes they boldly marched to battle, brandishing their
formidable lances, the terror of the Saracens. No ; there does not exist in the
annals of history an event so colossal as the Crusades, and you might search
there in vain for an institution more generous than the military orders. In the
Crusades we see numberless nations arise, march across deserts, bury themselves
in countries with which they are unacquainted, and expose themselves to all the
rigors of climates and seasons ; and for what purpose ? To deliver a tomb !
Grand and immortal movement, where hundreds of nations advance to certain
death — not in pursuit of a miserable self-interest — not to find an abode in milder
and more fertile countries — not from an ardent desire to obtain for themselves
earthly advantages — but inspired only by a religious idea, by a jealous desire to
possess the tomb of Him who expired on the cross for the salvation of the
human race ! When compared with this, what becomes of the lofty deeds of
the Greeks, chanted by Homer ? Greece arises to avenge an injured husband ;
Europe to redeem the sepulchre of a God.

When, after the disasters and the triumphs of the Crusades, we see the mili
tary orders appear, sometimes fighting in the oriental regions, sometimes in the
islands of the Mediterranean, sustaining and repelling the rude assaults of
Islamism, which, emboldened by its victories, again longs to throw itself on
Europe, we imagine that we behold those brave men, who, on the day of a great
battle, remam alone upon the field, one against a hundred, securing by their
heroism, and at the hazard of their lives, the safety of their companions in arms
who retire behind them. Honor and glory to the religion which has been
capable of insp:.ing such lofty thoughts, and has been able to rsalize such great
and generous eu reprises !

244

•

CHAPTER XLIIL

CONTINUATION OF 1 HE SAME SUBJECT — EUROPE IN THE THIRTEENTH

CENTURY.

PERHAPS they who are the most opposed to religious communities may be
reconciled to the solitaries of the East, when they perceive in them^a clas? of
men who, by practising the most sublime and austere counsels of religion, Lava
communicated a generous impulse to humanity, have raised it from the dus*
where Paganism had held it, and made it wing its flight towards purer regions
To accustom man to grave and strict morality ; to bring back the soul within
itself; to give a lively feeling of the dignity of his nature, of the loftiness of
his origin and his destiny ; to inspire him, by means of extraordinary examples,
with confidence that the mind, aided by divine grace, can triumph over the
animal passions, and make man lead an angelic life upon earth : these are
benefits so signal, that a noble heart must show itself grateful and full of lively
interest for the men who have given them to the world. As to the monasteries
of the West, the benefits of their civilizing influence are so visible, that no man
who loves humanity can regard them with animadversion ; in fine, the military
orders present us with an idea so noble, so poetical, and realize in so admirable
a manner one of those golden dreams which cross the human mind in moments
of enthusiasm, that they must certainly find respectful homage in every heart
which beats at a noble and sublime spectacle.

There yet remains a more difficult task, that of presenting at the tribunal of
philosophy — that philosophy so indifferent in religious matters — the other reli
gious communities which are not comprised in the sketch which I have just
made. Judgments of great severity have been passed upon those institution?
which I have now to speak of; but in such things justice cannot be prescrip
tive. Neither the applause of irreligious men, nor the revolutions which upset
all that stand in their way, can prevent the truth being placed in its true light,
and folly and crime being stigmatized with disgrace.

The thirteenth century has just commenced ; there appears a new kind of
men, who, under different titles, denominations, and forms, profess a singular and
extraordinary way of life. Some put on clothing of coarse cloth ; they renounce
all wealth and property; they condemn themselves to perpetual mendicity,
spreading themselves over the country and the towns for the sake of gaining
.souls for Jesus Christ. Others bear on their dress the distinctive mark of the
redemption of man, and undertake the mission of releasing from servitude the
numberless captives who, from the misfortune of the times, have fallen into the
hands of the Mussulmen. Some erect the cross in the midst of a people who
eagerly follow them, and they institute a new devotion — a constant hymn of
praise to Jesus and to Mary; at the same time they indefatigably preach the
faith of the Crucified. Others go in search of all the miseries of man, bury
themselves in hospitals, in all the asylums of misfortune, to succour and con
sole. They all bear new standards; all show equal contempt for the world;
they all form a portion separate from the rest of mankind ; but they resemble
neither the solitaries of the East, nor the sons of St. Bennet. The new monks
arise not in the desert, but in the midst of society : their object is not to live
shut up in monasteries, but to spread themselves over the fields and hamlets,
to penetrate to the heart of the great masses of the population, and to make
their voices heard both in the cottage of the shepherd and in the palace of the
monarch They increase on all sides in a prodigious manner. Italy, Germany,
France, Spain, England, receive them ; numerous convents arise as if bj
enchantment in the villages and towns; the Popes protect them and enrict
th-im with many privileges; kings grant them the kighest favors, and suppor

J BOXES: ANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 245

them in their enterprises ; the people regard them with veneration, and listen
to them with respectful docility. A religious movement appears on ail sides;
religious institutions, more or less resembling each, other, arise like the branches
from the same trunk. The observer, when he sees this immense and astonish
ing picture, asks himself, What are the causes of so extraordinary a pheno
menon ? whence this singular movement ? what is its tendency ? what will be
its effects on society ?

When a fact of such high importance is realized all at once in many different
countries, and lasts for centuries, it is a proof that there existed very powerful
means to produce it. It is vain to bo entirely forgetful of the views of Provi
dence : no one can deny that such a fact must have had its root in the essence
of things ; consequently it is useless to declaim against the men and the insti
tutions. Acknowledging this, the true philosopher will not lose his time in
anathematizing the fact, but he will examine and analyze it. No declamation
or invectives against the monks can efface their history ; they have existed for
many centuries, and centuries do not retrace their steps.

We will not inquire if there was here some extraordinary design of Providence,
Mid we will lay aside the reflections which religion suggests to every true
Catholic ; we will confine ourselves to considering the religious institutions of
modern times in a purely philosophical point of view ; we can show that they
were not only very conformable to the well-being of society, but also perfectly
adapted to the situation in which it was placed ; we can show that they displayed
neither cunning, malice, nor vile self-interest; that their object was highly
advantageous, and that they were at the same time the expression and the
fulfilment of great social necessities.

The question of its own accord assumes the position in which we have just
regarded it ; and it is strange that men have not acknowledged all the importance
of the magnificent points of view which here present themselves.

In order the better to clear up this important matter, I will enter upon an
examination of the social condition of Europe at the time of which we speak.
As soon as we take the first glance at this epoch, we observe that, in spite of the
intellectual rudeness which one would imagine must have kept nations in abject
silence, there was at the bottom of men's minds an anxiety which deeply moved
and agitated them. These times are ignorant; but it is an ignorance which is
conscious of itself and which longs for knowledge. There is felt a want of
harmony in the relations and institutions of society ; but that want is everywhere
felt and acknowledged, and a continual agitation indicates that this harmony is
anxiously desired and ardently sought for. I know not what singular character is
stamped upon the nations of Europe, but we do not find there the symptoms of
death; they are barbarous, ignorant, corrupt, any thing you please; but, as if
they constantly heard a voice calling them to light, to civilization, to a new life,
they incessantly labor to leave the fatal condition into which unhappy circum
stances have plunged them. They never sleep in tranquillity amid the darkness ;
they never live without remorse amid the corruption of manners. The echo of
virtue continually resounds in their ears ; flashes of light appear in the darkness ;
a thousand efforts are made to advance a step in the career of civilization ; a
thousand times they are vain ; but they are renewed as often as they are repulsed ;
the generous attempt is never abandoned ; they fail a thousand times ; but they
never lose courage. Courage and ardour are never wanting. There is thia
remarkable difference ^et^yeen the nations of Europe, and those nations among
ffhom the Christian religion has not yet penetrated, or from whose bosom it has
jeen banished. Ancient Greece falls, never to rise again ; the Republics of the
shore of Asia disappear, and do not rise out of their ruins. The ancient
zation of Egypt is broken to pieces by the conquerors, and posterity has s<
preserved a remembrance of them. Certainly none of the nations on th

v 2

246 PR 3TESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

of Africa can show us signs which reveal the ancient country of St. Cyprian, of
Tertullian and St. Augustine. Still more ; a considerable portion of Asia has
preserved Christianity, but a Christianity separated from Rome ; and this has
been unable to establish or regenerate any thing. Political power has aided
and protected it, but the nation remains feeble ; it cannot stand erect; it is a
dead body, incapable of advancing ; it is not like Lazarus, who has iust heard
the a ill-powerful voice : "Lazarus, come forth; Lazare veni foras."

Tnis anxiety, this agitation, this extreme eagerness towards a greater and
Happier future, this desire for reformation in manners, for enlargement and cor
rection in ideas, for amelioration in institutions — the distinctive characteristics
of modern nations — made themselves felt in a fearful manner at the time tc
which we allude. I will say nothing of the military history of those times, which
would furnish us with abundant proofs of our assertion ; I will confine myself
to facts which, owing to their religious and social character, have the greatest
analogy with the subject which now occupies us. A formidable energy of mind,
a great fund of activity, a simultaneous development of the most ardent passions,
an enterprising spirit, a lively desire of independence, a decided inclination to
employ violent means, an extraordinary zeal for proselytism, ignorance combined
with a thirst for knowledge, even combined with enthusiasm and fanaticism for
all that bears the name of science ; a high esteem for the titles of nobility, and
of illustrious blood, united with the spirit of democracy, and a profound respect
for merit, wherever it may be found ; a childlike candor, an excessive credu
lity, and, at the same time, the most obstinate indocility; a tenacious spirit of
resistance, fearful stubbornness, corruption, and licentiousness of manners, allied",
with admiration for virtue ; a taste for the most austere practices, combined with
an inclination for the most extravagant habits and manners; such are the traits
which history exhibits among these nations.

So singular a mixture appears strange at first sight ; and yet nothing was
more natural. Things could not be otherwise: societies are formed under the
influence of certain principles, and of certain particular circumstances, which
impart to them their genius, character, and countenance. It is the same with
society as with individuals ; education, instruction, temperament, and a thousand
other physical and moral circumstances, concur in forming a collection of influ
ences which produce qualities the most different, and sometimes the most contra
dictory. This concurrence of different causes was shown in a singular and extra
ordinary manner among the nations of Europe; it is on this account that we
observe there the most extravagant and discordant effects. Let us recollect the
history of those nations since the fall of the Roman empire to the end of the
Crusades ; never did an assemblage of nations present a combination of more
varied elements, and a spectacle of greater events. The moral principles which
preside over the development of these nations were in direct opposition to their
genius and situation. These principles were essentially pure, unchangeable a?
the God who had established them ; radiant with light, because they emanated
from the source of all light and life : the nations, on the contrary, were igno
rant, rude, fluctuating, like the waves of the sea, and corrupted, as was to be
expected of every thing which was the result of an impure mixture. Wherefore
a terrible struggle took place between principles and facts; wherefore there
were witnessed the most extraordinary contradictions, according as good and evil
alternately preponderated. Never was the struggle between elements which
could not remain at peace, more clearly seen ; the genii of good and of evil
geemed to descend into the arena, and to fight hand to hand.

The nations of Europe were not in their infancy, for they were surrounded
by old institutions. Full of the recollections of ancient civilization, they pre-
terved various remains of it. They were themselves produced by the mixture
of a hundred nations, differing in laws, custrms, and manners. The1 were no.

PROTESTANT SM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 247

yet adult nations; as this denomination cannot b& applied eithir to individual?
or to society before they have reached a certain development, from which the
nations of Europe were still far removed. It is very difficult to find a word to
express this social state ; it was neither a state of civilization, nor that of barba.
rism ; for a number of laws and institutions existed there, which certainly did
not deserve the epithet of barbarous. If we call these nations semi-barbarous,
perhaps we shall approach the truth. Words are of little importance, if we
have a clear idea of the things.

It cannot be denied that the European nations, owing to a long series of revo-
'utions, and the extraordinary mixture of races, of ideas, and manners, of tho
conquerors with each other, and of the conquerors with the nations conquered,
aad a large portion of barbarism, and a fruitful germ of agitation and disorder.
But the malignant influence of these elements was combated by the action of
Christianity, which had obtained a decided preponderance over minds, and
which, besides, was supported by powerful institutions. Christianity, to accom
plish this difficult work, had the assistance of great material force. The Chris
tian doctrines, which penetrated on all sides, tended, like a sweetening liquid,
to soften and improve every thing ; but, at every step, the mind comes into
collision with the senses, morality with the passions, order with anarchy, charity
with ferocity, and law with fact. Thence a struggle, which, although general
to a certain extent in all times and countries, since it is founded on the nature
of man, was then more rude, violent, and clamorous The two most opposite
principles, barbarism and Christianity, were then face to face in the same arena,
with no one between them. Observe these nations with attention, read their
history with reflection, and you will see that those two principles are constantly
struggling, and constantly contending for influence and preponderance ; thence
the most strange situations, and the most singular contrasts. Study the charac
ter of the wars of that time, and you will hear the holiest maxims constantly
proclaimed; legitimacy, law, reason, and justice are invoked; the tribunal of
God is incessantly appealed to: this is the influence of Christianity. But, at
the same time, you will be afflicted at the sight of numberless acts of violence,
of cruelties, atrocities, pillages, rapines, murders, fires, and disasters without
end : this is barbarism. If you look at the Crusades, you will observe that
grand ideas, vast plans, noble inspirations, social and political views of the
highest importance, fermented in men's heads ; that all hearts overflowed with
noble and generous feelings, and that a holy enthusiasm, transporting men out
of themselves, rendered them capable of heroic actions : this is the influence
of Christianity. But, if you examine the execution, you will see disorder, im
providence, want of discipline in the armies, injuries, and acts of violence; you
will seek in vain for concert and harmony among those who take part in the
gigantic and perilous enterprise: there is barbarism. Youths, thirsting for
knowledge, crowd to the lectures of the famous masters, from the most distant
countries; Italians, Germans, English, Spanish, and French are mingled and
confounded around the chairs of Abelard, Peter Lombard, Albertus Magnus,
and St. Thomas of Aquin ; a powerful voice resounds in their ears, calling them
to leave the shades of ignorance and raise themselves to the regions of science ;
the love of knowledge animates them; the longest journeys cannot stop them;
the enthusiasm for illustrious masters is carried to an indescribable extent,
behold the influence of Christianity; behold her constantly stirring and illumi
nating the mind of man, never allowing him to repose tranquilly in obscurity,
and continually exciting him to new intellectual labors and researches after
truth ! But behold these same youths, who exhibit such noble dispositions, and
inspire such legitimate and consoling hopes; are they not also those licentious,
testhss, and turbulent young men, giving way to the most deplorable acts of
violence, continually fighting in the streets, and forming in the midst of

248 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

cities a small republic, an unruly democracy, where there is much difficulty it
maintaining law and good order ? Behold here barbarism !

It is good, it is perfectly conformable to the spirit of religion, that the guiltj
man who raises a repentant and humiliated heart to God, should manifest his
feeling and the affliction of his soul by external acts; that he should labor to
fortify his mind, and restrain his evil inclinations, by employing the rigors of
gospel austerity against his flesh: all this is sovereignly reasonable,* just, holy,
and conformable to the maxims of the Christian religion, which thus ordains
for the justification and sanctification of the sinner, to repair the injury done
to the souls of others by the scandal of a bad life. But that penitents, half
naked, should wander about loaded with chains, carrying horror and alarm
everywhere, as happened at this time, when we see ecclesiastical authority com-
pelled to repress the abuse : this marks the spirit of rudeness and ferocity which
always accompany the state of barbarism. Nothing is more true, noble, and
salutary for society, than to imagine God always ready to defend innocence, to
protect it against injustice and calumny, and to raise it above humiliation and
disgrace, by restoring to it, sooner or later, the purity and lustre of which they
nave attempted to deprive it. This supposition is an effect of faith in Provi
dence — that faith emanating from Christian ideas, which represent to us God
as embracing the whole world in his view, reaching with his penetrating eye the
deepest recesses of the heart, and not even excluding the meanest of his
creatures from his paternal love. But who does not perceive the infinite distance
which separates this pure faith from the trials by fire, water, and single com
bat ? Who does not here discover rudeness confounding all things — the spirit
of violence laboring to subject every thing to a rigorous law — attempting, in
some measure, to oblige God himself to comply with our wants and caprices, in
order to interpose the testimony of his solemn miracles, whenever it suits our
pleasure or convenience to find out the truth?

I introduce these contrasts here in order to awaken the recollections of those
who have read history, and to enable me to establish, in a few words, the simple
and general formula which sums up all those periods : a Barbarism tempered by
religion ; religion disfigured by barbarism."

In the study of history we constantly encounter a serious obstacle, which
renders it always difficult, and sometimes impossible, to understand it perfectly.
We make the mistake of referring every thing to ourselves, and to the objects
which surround us — a mistake which is excusable, no doubt, since it has its root
in our own nature, but against which we must be carefully on our guard, if we
irish to avoid deplorable errors. We imagine the men of other times to be like
ourselves; without thinking of it, we communicate to them our own ideas,
manners, inclinations, and even temperaments ; and, after having fashioned men
who exist only in our own imaginations, we desire and demand that the real
men should act in the same manner as these imaginary men ; and at the slightest
discord between the historical facts and our unreasonable suppositions, we cry
out that it is strange and monstrous, taxing with being strange and monstrous
what was perfectly regular and ordinary according to the epoch.

It is the same with respect to laws and institutions : when we do not find
them according to the types which we have under our eyes, we declaim against
the ignorance, iniquity, and cruelty of the men who have conceived and esta
blished them. If we wish to form an exact idea of an epoch, it is necessary to
transport ourselves there — to make an effort of imagination, in order, as it
were, to live and converse with its men ; it is not enough to hear the recital of
the ev3nts, it is necessary to witness them, to become one of the spectators, one
of tho actors, if possible ; it is necessary to call forth generations from the
comb, ind make them act under our eyes. I shall be told that this is very diffi
cult. I grant it; but it is necessary, if we wish that our knowledge of history

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 249

should be something more than a mere notion of names and dates It if, quite
sure that we do not know an individual well, 'unless acquainted with his ideas,
character, and conduct. It is the same with a society: if we are ignorant by
what doctrines it was guided, what was its manner of considering and feeling
things, we shall see the events only superficially — we shall know the words of
the law, but we shall not penetrate its spirit or genius; when contemplating an
institution, we shall see only the external frame-work, without reaching the
mechanism, or guessing the moving machinery. If we attempt to avoid these
defects, it is certain that the study of history becomes the most difficult of all;
but this knowledge has been wanting for a long time. The secrets of man and
the mysteries of society are, at the same time, the most important subject which
can be proposed to the human mind, and the most arduous, the most difficult,
and the least accessible to the generality of intellects.

The individual in the times to which we allude was not the individual of
to-day ; his ideas were very different, his manner of seeing and feeling was not
ours, his soul was of quite another temper from our own ; what is inconceivable
to us, was perfectly natural to men of those times ; they took pleasure in what
is now repugnant to us.

At the beginning of the thirteenth century, Europe had already experienced
the powerful shock of the Crusades; the sciences began to germinate; the spirit
of commerce was in some degree developed ; the taste for industry made itself
felt; and the inclination of men to enter into communication with other men,
and of nations to mingle with other nations, was every day extended and increased.
The feudal system, already shaken, was about to fall to pieces; the power of the
commonalty rapidly increased; the spirit of enfranchisement showed itself
everywhere ; in fine, owing to the almost complete abolition of slavery, and to
the change effected by the Crusades in the condition of vassals and serfs, Europe
was covered with a numerous population who knew not slavery, and who bore
with difficulty the feudal yoke. Yet this population was still far from possess
ing all that is necessary to rise to the rank of free citizens. Modern democracy
already offered itself to the view, with its great advantages, its numerous diffi
culties, its immense problems, which still embarrass and disconcert us, after so
many centuries of trial and experience. The lords preserved in great measure
their habits of barbarism and ferocity, by which they had been unfortunately
distinguished at former periods; the royal power was far from having acquired
that force and prestige necessary for ruling such opposite elements, and to raisn
itself in the midst of society as a symbol of respect for all interests — a centre of
reunion for all forces, and a sublime personification of reason and justice.

In the same century, wars began to assume a character more popular, and
consequently more vast and important; the agitations of the people began to
wear the aspect of political commotions. Already we discover something more
than the ambition of emperors attempting to impose their yoke on Italy ; we
have no longer petty kings who contend for a crown or a province, or counts or
barons who, follQwed by their serfs, fight with each other or with the neigh
boring municipalities, covering the land with blood and rapine We observe
in the movements of that period something more important and alarming.
Numerous nations arise and crowd around a banner on which, instead of the
ensigns of a baron or of a monarch, appears the name of a system of doctrines.
No doubt, the lords take part in the struggle, and their power raises them still
far above the crowd which surrounds and follows them ; but the cause in ques
tion is not that of these men ; they are accounted something in the problems
of the times ; but mankind looks beyond the horizon of castles. This agitation
an I movement, produced by the appearance of new religious and social doc
trines, is the announcement and the beginning of that chain of revolution*1
which Europe has tc undergo.
32

U50 PJIOTISTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

The evil did not consist in the disposition of nations to carry out: their
and refuse to take as their only guide the interests and doctrines of a fett
tyrants On the contrary, this was a great step gained in the path of civiliza
tion j men thus showed that they felt and understood their own dignity better,
that they took a more extended view, and had a better understanding of their
own situation and interests. This progress was the natural result of the higher
flight which was every day taken by the faculties of the mind. The Crusades
had greatly contributed to this new movement ; from that great epoch the dif
ferent nations of Europe were accustomed no longer to fight for the possession
of a small territory, or to gratify private ambition or revenge. The nations
fought in support of a principle by laboring to avenge the outrage offered to
the true religion ; in a word, they became accustomed to be moved, to contend,
to die, for an idea which, far from being limited to a small territory, embraced
heaven and earth. Thus, we will observe in passing, that the popular move
ment, the movement in ideas, began in Spain much sooner than in the rest of
Europe, because the war against the Moors had advanced the period of the
Crusades for that country. The evil, I repeat it, was not in the interest which
the people took in ideas, but in the imminent danger of seeing those nations, on
account of their rudeness and ignorance, allow themselves to be abused and
deceived by the first fanatic who came. At a moment when the movement
was so vast, the fate of Europe depended on the direction which was about to
be given to the universal activity : unless I am deceived, the twelfth and thir
teenth centuries were the critical epochs, when, in the face of great probabilities
on both sides, there was decided the great question of knowing whether Europe,
in its twofold social and political relations, was to take advantage of the benefits
of Christianity, or permit all the promise of a better future to be lost and
annihilated.

When we fix our eyes on this period, we find, in different parts of Europe, a
certain germ and index of the greatest disasters ; the most horrible doctrines
arise among the masses who begin to be agitated; the most fearful disorders
signalize the first step of these nations in the career of life. Before this, we
have discovered only kings and lords, but now the people appear on the scene.
Thus we see that some rays of light and heat have penetrated this shapeless
mass. At this sight the heart is dilated and encouraged, presaging the new
future which is reserved for humanity. But, at the same time, the observer is
alarmed, for he is aware that this heat may produce excessive fermentation,
engender corruption, and multiply impure insects in the field which promises
soon to become an enchanting garden.

The extravagances of the human mind at this time appear under so alarming
u\i aspect, and with a turbulence of character so fearful, that apprehensions
apparently the most exaggerated are supported by facts, and become terrible
probabilities. Let me recall some of those facts which so vividly paint the
condition of minds at that time ; facts which besides are connected with the
principal point which we are examining. At the beginning of the twelfth cen
tury, we find the famous Tancheme, or Tanquelin, teaching the maddest theories
and committing the greatest crimes ; yet at Antwerp, in Zealand, in the coun
try of Utrecht, and in many other towns in the same countries, he draws after
him a numerous crowd. This wretched man advanced that he was more worthy
of supreme worship than Jesus Christ himself, "for," said he, "if Jesus Christ
had received the Holy Spirit, he (Tancheme) had received the plenitude of tha*
Holy Spirit." He added that the whole Church was comprised in his own persou
and in his disciples. The pontificate, episcopate, and priesthood were, accord
ing to him, mere chimeras. His instructions and discourses were particularly
addressed to women j the result of his doctrines and proceedings was the mosi
revolting corruption. Yet the fanaticism which was excited by this abominable

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 251

man went so far that the sick eagerly drank the water in which he had bathed
believing it to be the most salutary remedy for body and soul. Women thougai
themselves happy to have obtained the favors of the monster; mothers con^i-
dered it an honor for their daughters to be selected as the victims of his profli
gacy, and husbands were offended when their wives were not stained with thi*
disgrace. Tancheme, knowing all the ascendency which he was able to exert
over minds, was not backward in making use of the fanaticism of his followers;
one of the principal virtues with which he labored to inspire them was liberality
in favor of his own interest.

One day when he was surrounded with a large concourse of people, he had a
picture of the Virgin brought to him ; touching it with his sacrilegious hand,
he said that he took the Virgin as his wife. Then, turning toward the specta
tors, he added, that as he had contracted marriage with the Queen of Heaven,
as they had just seen, it was their duty to make the wedding presents. He
immediately placed two boxes, one on the right and the other on the left of the
picture, to receive on one side the offerings of the men, and on the other those,
of the women ; for the purpose of learning, as he said, which of the two sexes
had the greater affection for him. This artifice, as low^nd gross as it was sacri
legious, seemed only calculated to excite the indignation of those who were
present; yet the results corresponded. with the expectations of the artful im
postor, The women, always jealous of the affection of Tancheme, surpassed in
liberality ; in a perfect frenzy, they stripped themselves of their necklaces}
golden rings, and most precious jewels.

When he felt himself strong enough, Tancheme did not content himself with
preaching; he was desirous of surrounding himself with an armed troop, in
order to give him in the eyes of the world a for different appearance from that
of an apostle. Three thousand men accompanied him everywhere. Surrounded
by this respectable escort, clothed in magnificent apparel, and preceded by his
standard, he moved with all the pomp of a king. When he stopped to preach,
the three thousand satellites stood armed around him with drawn swords. It is
evident, the aggressive character of the heretical sects of succeeding ages was
already traced out.

Every one knows how numerous were the partisans of Eon. This unhappy
man was excited by hearing the frequent repetition of the words : " Per eum
qui judicaturus est vivos et mortuos :" and he became persuaded and he as
serted, that he himself was the judge who was to judge the living and the dead
We are also aware of the troubles excited by the seditious speeches of Arnaula
of Brescia, the iconoclastic fanaticism of Pierre de Bruis and Henri. If I did
not fear to fatigue the attention of my readers, it would be easy for me to re
late here the most revolting scenes which represent to the life the spirit of the
sects of those times, and the unfortunate predisposition which led men's mind&
to novelty, to extravagant spectacles, and I know not what fatal giddiness,
whereby they were precipitated into the most strange errors and the most de
plorable excesses. At all events, I must say a few words of the Cathari, Vau-
dois, Paterins o'f Arras, Albigenses, and poor men of Lyons. These sects,
besides the influence which they had on the times of which we speak and on the
later events of European history, will be of great use in making us fathom
more deeply the question now before us. From the first ages of the Church,
the sect of the Manichees was remarkable for errors and extravagances. Undel
different names, with more or less of followers, and with doctrines more or les?
various, it continued from age to age until the eleventh century, when it excited
disturbances in France. From that time, Heribert and Lisoy acquired an un
happy celebrity by their obstinacy and fanaticism. In the time of St. Bernard,
the sects called apostolical were distinguished by their Ijslike to marriage ;
while, on the ^ther hind, they gave themselves up to the basest and most i.xi

262 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

bridled licentiousness. Nevertheless, all these irregularities weie favorably
received by the ignorance or the corruption of the people. This is proved by
the rapidity with which they gained the masses and spread like a pestilence
wherever they appeared. Besides the hypocrisy, 'which is common to all the
sects, that of the Manichees imagined an artifice the most apt to seduce rude
and ignorant people : they appeared with the most rigid austerity and the most
miserable clothes. Before the year 1181, we see the Manichees bold enough
to venture out of their conventicles and openly teach their doctrines in the light
of day. They associated with the celebrated bandits called Co'tereaux, and
feared not to commit all sorts of excesses, as they had seduced some knights and
had secured the protection of some seigneurs of the country of Toulouse ; they
succeeded in exciting a formidable insurrection, which could be repressed only
by force of arms. Ail eye-witness, Stephen, Abbot of St. Genevieve, at that
time sent to Toulouse by the king, describes to us in a few words the acts of
violence committed by these sectaries : " I have seen on all sides," he says,
" churches burnt and ruined to their foundations : I have seen the dwellings of
men changed mto the dens of beasts."

About the same time, the Vaudois, or poor men of Lyons, became famous.
This last name was given to them on account of their extreme poverty, their
contempt for all riches, and the rags with which they were covered. Their
shoes also gave them the name of Sabatathes. They were perverse imitators of
another kind of poor, celebrated at that time, and who were distinguished by
their virtues, and particularly by their spirit of humility and disinterestedness.
These latter, who formed a kind o£ association, comprising priests and laymen,
attracted the respect and esteem of real Christians, and obtained the Pope's
permission to teach publicly. The disciples showed a profound contempt for
Church authority ; they afterwards entertained monstrous errors, and in the end
became a sect in opposition to religion, injurious to good morals, and incompati
ble with public Tranquillity.

These errors, which were the germs of so many calamities and troubles, could
not be extirpated ; with time they became more and more rooted in various
countries, and the progress of things was so fatal, that at the beginning of the thir
teenth century the period of short-lived seditions and isolated troubles was already
long gone by, the errors had already spread on a large scale, and appeared with
formidable resources for the contest. Already the south of France, agitated by
civil discord, and precipitated into a fearful war, \vas in a state of terrible conflict.
En the political organization of that time, the throne had not strength enough
to exercise a controlling power, the lords had still the means of resisting kings
and doing violence to the people. When a spirit of disobedience, agitation,
and movement is spread throughout the masses, there is only one means of
restraining them, that of religion ; and this very ascendency of religious ideas
was taken advantage of by the wicked and the fanatical ; and to mislead the
multitude they availed themselves of violent declamation, where religion and
politics formed a confused mixture, and where the spirit of austerity and disin-.
terestedness was the subject of hypocritical affectation. The new errors were
no longer confined to subtile attacks on particular dogmas, they assailed the
fundamental ideas of religion, penetrated to the sanctuary of the family, on the
one side condemning marriage, and on the other promoting infamous abomina
tions : in fine, the evil was not limited to countries which by a tardy and in
complete initiation into the doctrines of Christianity, or for any other reason,
had not fully participated in the European movement. The arena principally
chosen was the south j that is, the country where the human mind was deve
loped in the most prompt and lively manner.

In the midst of such a concourse of unfortunate circumstances, all attested
»nd placed beyond a doubt by history, was not the future of Europe very dark

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. '2^3

i

and tempestuous ? Ideas and manners were in imminent danger of taking a
irrorg direction ; the bands of authority, the ties of family, seemed ready to
break asunder ; the nations might be led away by fanaticism or superstition ;
Europe was in danger of being replunged into the chaos whence it had emerged
with so much difficulty. At that time the Crescent shone in Spain, it reigned
in Africa, it triumphed in Asia. Was Europe at such a moment to lose her
religious unity, and see new errors penetrate everywhere, sowing schism in all
countries, and with it discord and war ? Were all the elements of civilization
and refinement created by Christianity to be dispersed and stricken with sterility
for evei ? Were the great nations formed under the influence of Catholicity,
the laws and institutions impregnated with that divine religion, to be corrupted,
falsified, and destroyed by changes in the ancient faith ? In fine, was the course
of European civilization to be violently diverted, and were the nations who were
already advancing towards a peaceful, prosperous, and glorious future, to be
condemned to see their most flattering hopes dissipated in a moment, and mise
rably to retrograde towards barbarism ? Such was then the vast problem placed
before society; and I fear not to assert that the religious movement which at
that time displayed itself in so extraordinary a manner, and the new religious
institutions, so inconsiderately accused of folly and extravagance, were a power
ful means employed by Providence to save religion and society. If the illus
trious Spaniard, St. Dominic de Guzman, and the wonderful man of Assisi, die
not occupy a place on our altars, there to receive the veneration of the faithful
for their eminent sanctity, they would deserve to have statues raised to them by
the gratitude of society and humanity. But what ! are our words an object of
scandal to you, who have only read and considered history through the deceit
ful medium of Protestant and philosophical prejudices ? Tell us, then, what
you find reprehensible in these men, whose establishments have been the sub
ject of your endless diatribes, as if they had been the greatest calamities of the
human race ? Their doctrines are those of the Gospel ; they are the same doc
trines, to the loftiness and sanctity whereof you have been compelled to render
solemn homage, and their lives are pure, holy, heroic, and conformable in every
thing to their teachings. Ask them what is the object they have in view; that
of preaching the Catholic truth to all men, they will tell you ; of making every
effort, of exerting every energy to destroy error and reform morals ; of in
spiring nations with the respect which is due to all legitimate authorities, civil
and ecclesiastical. That is to say, you will find among them a firm resolution
to devote their lives to remedy the evils of Church and State.

They do not content themselves with barren wishes; they are not satisfied
with a few discourses and transitory efforts ; they do not confine their plans to
their mere personal sphere, but, extending their views to all countries and
future times, they found institutions whereof the members may spread them
selves over the whole surface »of the world, and transmit to future generations
the apostolical spirit which has inspired them with their grand ideas. The
poverty to which they condemn themselves is extreme; the dress they wear is
rude and miserable ; but do you not see the profound reasons for this conduct ?
Remember that they propose to renew the gospel spirit, so much forgotten in
their time ; that they frequently happen to meet face to face the emissaries of
the corrupt sects, who, endeavoring to imitate Christian humility, and affecting
an absolute disinterestedness, make a parade of presenting themselves in public
in the garb of beggars ; remember, in fine, that they go to preach to semi-bar
barous nations, and that to preserve them from the giddiness of error which has
begun to take possession of their heads, words are not enough, even accompa-
panied by a regular and uniform conduct ; extraordinary examples, a mode of
life which bears with it the most powerful edification, and sanctity clothed

'254 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

with an exterior adapted to make a lively impression on the imagination, ai *
required.

The number of the new religious is very considerable ; they increase without
measure in all the countries where they are established; they are found, not
only in the country and in the hamlets, but they penetrate' into the midst of the
most populous cities. Observe, that Europe is no longer composed of a collec
tion of small towns and wretched cottages erected round feudal castles, and
humbly obedient to the authority or the influence of a proud baron ; Europe
no longer consists of villages grouped round rich abbeys, listening with docility
to the instructions of the monks, and receiving with gratitude the benefits con
ferred on them. A great number of vassals have already thrown off the yoke
of their lords ; powerful municipalities arise on all sides, and in their presence
the feudal system is frequently compelled to humble itself in alarm. Towns
become every day more populous — every day, from the effects of the emancipa
tion which takes place in the country, they receive new families. Reviving
industry and commerce display new means of subsistence, and excite an increase
of population. It results from all this that religion and morality must act upon
the nations of Europe on a larger scale ; more general means, issuing from a
common centre, and freed from ordinary fetters, are necessary to satisfy the new
necessities of the time. Such are the religious institutions of the time of which
we speak ; this is the explanation of their astonishing number, of their nume
rous privileges, and of that remarkable regulation which places them under the
immediate control of the Pope.

Even the character which marked these institutions— a character in some de
gree democratic, not only because men of all classes are there united, but also
because of the special organization of their government — was eminently calcu
lated to give efficacy to their influence over a democracy, fierce, turbulent, and
proud of its recent liberty, and consequently little disposed to sympathize with
any thing which might have been presented to it under aristocratic or exclusive
forms. This democracy found in these new religious institutions a certain ana
logy with its own existence and origin. These men come from the people, they
live in constant communication with them, and, like them, they are poor and
meanly clad ; and as the people have their assemblies where they choose their
municipal officers and bailiffs, so do the religious hold their chapters, where
they name their priors and provincials. They are not anchorites living in remote
deserts, nor monks sheltered in rich abbeys, nor clergy whose functions and
duties are confined to any particular country. They are men without fixed
abodes, and who are found sometimes in populous cities and sometimes in mise
rable hamlets — to-day in the midst of the old continent, to-morrow on a vessel
which bears them to perilous missions in the remotest countries of the globe ;
sometimes they are seen in the palaces of kings, enlightening their councils, and
taking part in the highest affairs of state ; sometimes in the dwellings of obscure
families, consoling them in misfortune, making up their quarrels, and giving
them advice on their domestic affairs. These same men, who are covered with
glory in the chairs of the universities, teach catechism to children in the hum
blest boroughs ; illustrious orators who have preached in courts, before king*
and great men, go to explain the Gospel in obscure villages. The people find
them everywhere, meet them at every step, in joy and in sorrow ; these men
are constantly ready to take part in the happy festivities of a baptism which
fills the house with joy, or to lament a misfortune which has just covered it with
mournirg.

We can imagine without difficulty the force and ascendency of such institu
tions. This influence on the minds of nations must have been incaJ culable ;,
the new sects which tended to mislead the multitude by their pestilential doc
trines, ''bund themselves face to face with an adversary who corcpletoly oon

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 255

quered the'jQ. They wished to seduce the simple by the ostentation of great
austerity and wonderful disinterestedness ; they desired to deceive the imagina
tion, by striking it with the sight of exterior mortification, of poor and mean
clothing. The new institutions united these qualities in an extraordinary man
ner. Thus the true doctrine had the same attributes which error had assumed.
From among the classes of the people there come forth violent declaimers, who
captivate the attention and take possession of the minds of the multitude by
fiery eloquence. In all parts of Europe we meet with burning orators, pleading
the cause of truth, who, well versed in the passions, ideas, and tastes of the
multitude, know how to interest, move, and direct them, making use, in de
fence of religion, of what others attempt to avail themselves of in attacking
her. They are found wheresoever they are wanted to combat the efforts of
sects. Free from all worldly ties, and belonging to no particular church, pro
vince, or kingdom, they have all the means of passing rapidly from one place to
another, and are found at the proper time wherever their presence is urgently
required.

The strength of association, known to the sectaries, and used by them with
so much success, is found in a remarkable degree in these new religious institu
tions. The individual has no will of his own : a vow of perpetual obedience
has placed him at the disposal of another's wi}l ; and this latter is in his turn
subject to a third ; thus there is formed a chain, whereof the first link is in the
hands of the Pope ; the strength of association, and that of unity, are thus
united in authority. There is all the motion, all the warmth of a democracy j
all the vigor, all the promptitude of monarchy.

It has been said that these institutions were a powerful support to the authority
of the Popes ; this is certain : we may even add, that if these institutions had
not existed, the fatal schism of Luther would perhaps have taken place centu
ries earlier. But, on the other hand, we must allow that the establishment of
them was not due to projects of the papacy ; the Sovereign Pontiffs did not con
ceive the idea of them ; isolated individuals, guided by superior inspiration,
formed the design, traced out the plan, and submitting that plan to the judg-
'ment of the Holy See, asked for authority to realize their enterprise. Civil
institutions, intended to consolidate and aggrandize the power of kings, emanate
sometimes from monarchs themselves, sometimes from some of their ministers,
who, identifying themselves with their views and interests, have formed and
executed the idea of the throne. It is not thus with the power of the Popes;
the support of new institutions contributes to sustain that power against the
attacks of dissenting sects ; but the idea of founding the institutions themselves
comes neither from the Popes nor their ministers. Unknown men suddenly
arise among the people ; nothing which has taken place affords reason to suspect
them of having any previous understanding with Rome ; their entire lives attest
that they have acted by virtue of inspiration, communicated to themselves, an
inspiration which does not allow them any repose, until they have executed
what was prescribed to them. There are not, there cannot be, any private de
signs of Rome; ambition has no share. From this, all sensible men should
draw one of these two consequences : either the appearance of these new insti
tutions was the work of God, who was desirous of saving His Church by sus
taining her against new attacks, and protecting the authority of the Roman Pon
tiff; or, Catholicity herself contained within her breast a saving instinct which
led her to create these institutions, which were required to enable her to come
triumphant out of the fearful crisis in which she was engaged. To Catholics,
these two propositions are identical : in both we see only, the fulfilment of the
promise, " On this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall never
prevail against her." Philosophers who do not regard things by the light of
faith, in order to explain this phenomenon, may make use of what terms they

65d PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

please; but they will be compelled to acknowledge that wonderful \».sdom ana
the highest iegree of foresight appear at the bottom of these facts. If thej
persist in not acknowledging the finger of God, and in seeing in the course of
events only the fruit of well-concerted plans, or the result of organization com
bined with art, at least they cannot refuse a sort of homage to these plans and
that organization. Indeed, as they confess that the power of the Roman Pontiff,
considered in relations merely philosophical, is the most wonderful of all the
powers which have appeared on earth, is it not evident that the society called
the Catholic Church shows in her conduct, in the spirit of life which animates
her, and in the instinct which makes her resist her greatest enemies, the most
incomprehensible combination of phenomena which have ever been witnessed in
society ? It is of little importance to the truth, whether you call this instinct,
mystery, spirit, or whatever name you please. Catholicity defies all societies,
all sects, and all schools, to realize what she has realized, to triumph over what
she has triumphed over, and to pass through, without perishing, the crises
through which she has passed. A few examples, where the work of God was
more or less imitated, may be alleged against us ; but the magicians of Egypt,
placed in the presence of Moses, came to an end of their artifices ; the envoy of
God performed wonders which they could not ; and they were compelled to ex
claim, "The finger of God is here — thefinyer of God is here!"

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS FOR THE REDEMPTION OF CAPTIVES.

WHEN viewing the religious institutions produced by the Church during the
thirteenth century, we did not pause to consider one among them, which, to the
merit of participating in the glory of the others, adds a peculiar character of
beauty and sublimity, and which is inexpressibly worthy of our attention : 1
speak of that institution, the object of which was to redeem captives from the
hands of the Infidels. If I make use of this general designation, it is because
I do not intend to enter into a particular examination of the various branches
which compose it. I consider the unity of the object, and, on account of that
unity, I attribute unity to the institution itself. Thanks to the happy change
which has taken place in the circumstances which occasioned its foundation, we
can now scarcely estimate the institution at its just value, and appreciate in a
proper manner the beneficent influence and the holy enthusiasm which it must
have produced in all Christian countries.

In consequence of the long wars with the Infidels, a very great number of
the faithful groaned in fetters, deprived of their liberty and country, and often
m danger of apostatizing from the faith of their fathers. The Moors still occu
pied a considerable part of Spain; they reigned exclusively on the coasts of
Africa, and proudly triumphed in the East, where the Crusaders had been van
quished. The Infidels thus held the south of Europe closely confined, and were
constantly able to seize favorable moments, and procure multitudes of Christian
slaves. The revolutions and disorders of those times continually offered favora
ble opportunities ; both hatred and cupidity urged them to "gratify their revenge
on the Christians taken unawares. We may be sure that this was one of the
severest scourges which the human race had to endure at that time in Europe.
If the word charity was to be any thing more than a mere name, if the nations
of Europe were not to allow their bonds of fraternity and the ties which connected
their common interests to be destroyed, there was an urgent necessity for them
to «ome to an understanding, in order to remedy thi& evil. The veteran who,
instead of a reward for his long services to religion and his country, had found

IROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLIC ITT. 25?

slavery in the depths of a dungeon ; the merchant who, pl< ughing the set is to
carry provisions to the Christian armies, had fallen into the power of an impla
cable enemy, and paid by heavy chains for the boldness of his enterprise ; the
timid virgin who, playing upon the sea-shore, had been perfidiously carried
away by the merciless pirates, like a dove borne away by a hawk : — all these
unfortunate beings had undoubtedly some right to be looked at with compassion
by their brethren in Europe, and to have an eifort made to restore them to
liberty.

How shall this charitable end be attained ? Can means be employed to
accomplish an enterprise which cannot be confided either to force or stratagem ?
Nothing is more fertile in resources than Catholicity. Whatever may be the
necessity which presents itself, she immediately finds proper means of succor
and remedy, if allowed to act with freedom. The remonstrances and negotia
tions of Christian princes could obtain nothing in favor of the captives ; new
wars undertaken for this purpose only served to increase the public calamities —
they deteriorated the lot of those who groaned in slavery, and perhaps increased
their number, by sending them fresh companions in misfortune; pecuniarv
means, without a central point of action and direction, produced but little fruit,
and were lost in the hands of agents. What resource, then, does there remain ?
The powerful resource which is always found in the hands of the Catholic reli
gion — the secret whereby she accomplishes* her greatest enterprises, viz. charity,

But how ought this charity to act ? In the same way as all the virtues of
Catholicity. This divine religion, which has come down from the loftiest regions,
and constantly raises the human mind to sublime meditations, presents at the
same time a singular characteristic, whereby she is distinguished from all the
schools and sects who have attempted to imitate her. In spite of the spirit of
abstraction, if I may so speak, which holds her continually detached from earthly
*hings, she has nothing vague, unsubstantial, or merely theoretical. With her,
%11 is speculative and practical, sublime and simple; she adapts and accom-
nodates herself to all that is compatible with the truth of her dogmas and the
jeverity of her maxims. While her eyes are fixed on heaven, she forgets not
that she is on earth, and that she has to deal with mortal men, subject to miseries
and calamities. With one hand she shows them eternity, with the other she
succors their misfortunes, solaces their pains, and dries up their tears. She
does not content herself with barren words; the love of our neighbor is to her
nothing, if that love does not manifest itself in giving bread to him who is
hungry, drink to him who is thirsty ; in clothing the naked, consoling the
afflicted, visiting the sick, solacing tne prisoner, and redeeming the captive. To
make use of an expression o£ this age, I will say that religion is eminently
positive. Wherefore she labors to realize her ideas by means of beneficent and
fruitful institutions, thereby distinguishing herself from human philosophy, the
pompous language and gigantic projects of which form so miserable a contrast
with the littleness and nothingness of its works. Ileligiou speaks little, but she
meditates and executes as the worthy daughter of that infinite Being -vrho,
although absorbed in the contemplation of an ocean of light, His own essence
and His impenetrable nature, has not the less created the universe the object of
our admiration, and ceases not to preserve it with ineffable goodness, while
governing it with incomprehensible wisdom.

It was necessary to go to the succor of the unhappy captives; assuredly,
therefore, we should applaud the idea of a vast association, which, extending
over all the countries of Europe, and placing itself in connection with all the
Christians who would give alms in favor of so holy a work, would have in its
eerrice a certain number of individuals always ready to traverse the seas, and
resolved to brave slavery and death for the redemption of their brethren. Nume
rous means would be thus combined, and the good employment of the funds
33 \v 2

25tf PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

would be secured. There was a certainty that the negotiations for the redemption
of captives would be conducted by men of zeal and experience ; in a word, such
an association would completely fulfil its object; and when it was established,
the Christians might hope for the most prompt and efficacious succor. Now,
this was precisely the idea realized in the foundation of the religious, orders for
the redemption of captives.

The religious who embraced these orders bound themselves by vow to the
accomplishment of this work of charity. Free from the embarrassments of
family relations and worldly interests, they could devote themselves to their
task with all the ardor of their zeal. Long voyages, the perils of the sea, the
danger of unhealthy climates, or the ferocity of the Infidels — nothing stopped
them. In their dress, in the prayers of their institution, they found a constant
remembrance of the vow which they had taken in the Divine presence. Neither
repose, comfort, nor even their very lives, any longer belong to them ; all are
become the property of the unhappy captives, who groan in the dungeons or
wear heavy chains in presence of their masters, on the other side of the Medi
terranean. The families of the unhappy victims, fixing their eyes on the reli
gious, required of him the accomplishment of his promise ; their groans and
lamentations continually urge him to find 'means, and to expose his life, if
necessary, to restore the father to the son, the son to the father, the husband to
the wife, the innocent young girl to lier desolate mother.

From the earliest ages of Christianity we see great zeal displayed for the
redemption of captives, which has always been preserved, and the inspiration
of which from that time has called forth the greatest sacrifices. The seventeenth
chapter of this work, and the notes attached to it, have iucontestably proved
this truth ; and it is not necessary that I should stay to confirm it here. Yet
I will not lose the opportunity of observing that the Church, in the present
case, as in all circumstances, has adopted her constant rule, viz. to realize her
ideas by means of institutions. If you observe her conduct attentively, you
will find that she begins by teaching and highly extolling a virtue; then she
mildly persuades men to put it in practice ; the practice extends and gains
strength, and what was merely a good work becomes for some a work of obliga
tion ; what was a simple wise act is converted into a strict duty for some select
men. At all times has the Church been engaged in the redemption of captives;
at all times some Christians of 'heroic charity have stripped themselves of their
property, of their liberty, to accomplish this work of mercy; but this care was
still left to the discretion of the faithful, and no bodies of men existed to
represent this charitable idea. New necessities arise ; the ordinary means do
not suffice ; it is necessary that aid should be collected with promptitude, and
employed with discernment ; charity, as it were, requires an arm always ready
to execute her orders; a permanent institution becomes necessary; the institu
tion appears, and the want is satisfied.

We are so accustomed to see the beautiful and the sublime in the work of
religion, that we scarcely observe the greatest prodigies there, in the same way
as, while profiting by the benefits of nature, we look upon her most wonderful
«rorks and productions with an eye of indifference. The different religious
institutions which, under various forms, have appeared since the beginning of
Christianity, are worthy of exciting in the highest degree the astonishment of
;he philosopher and the Christian ; but I doubt whether it be possible to find in
the whole history of these institutions any thing more beautiful, interesting, and
touching, than the picture of the orders for the redemption of captives. Does
there* exist a more admirable symbol of religion protecting the unfortunate ?
Which is the most sublime emblem of the redemption consummated on Calvary
and extending itself to earthly captivity ? Is it not the celebrated vision which
t>rbx.eded the establishment of the holy institutes of Mercy acd the Trinity?

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 259

Home will say that these apparitions were only ch'meras and mere illiwi ms '
Happy are these illusions, we will reply, which pro luce the consolation of the
human race ! However this may be, we will here recall these visions, braving,
if necessary, the smiles of the incredulous. If they have preserved in theii'
hearts any generous feelings, they will be compelled to allow that if these
visions appear to them devoid of all historical truth, there is at least in the
sublime sacrifice which is made by the man who devotes himself to slavery for
the ransom of his brethren, a lofty poetry, a sincere love of the human race,
an ardent desire to succor them, and an heroic disinterestedness.

A doctor of the University of Paris, known by his virtues and his wisdom,
had just been raised to the priesthood, and celebrated for the first time the
holy sacrifice of the altar. In consideration of these exalted favors of the Most
High, he redoubles his ardor, he excites his faith, and endeavors to offer to the
Lamb without spot, with all the recollection, purity, and fervor of which he is
capable, his heart inundated with favors and inflamed by charity. He knows
not how to manifest to God his profound gratitude for so great a benefit; his
lively desire is to be able to prove to Him in some way his gratitude and his
love. He who had said, " What you have done to one of my little children
you have done to myself," immediately showed him a way to exhibit the tire
of his charity. The vision begins : the priest sees an angel whose dress is
white as snow and as brilliant as light; the angel wears on his breast a red and
blue cross; at his sides are two captives, the one a Christian, the other a Moor;
he places his hands over the heads of each. At this sight, the priest, ravished
into ecstasy, understands that God calls him to the holy work of the redemp
tion of captives ; but before going any further, he retires into solitude, and
devotes himself for three years to prayer and penance, humbly begging of the
Lord that He would make known to him His sovereign will. In the desert he
met with a pious hermit : the two solitaries aid each other by their prayers and
examples. One day, when they were absorbed in pious communication by the
side of a fountain, a stag suddenly appears to them bearing on his horns the
mysterious cross of two colors. The priest relates to his astonished companion
the first vision which he has had ; both redouble their prayers and penances ;
both receive the celestial admonition for the third time. Then, unwilling any
longer to defer the accomplishment of the Divine pleasure, they hasten to
Rome, and ask of the Spvereign Pontiff his counsels and permission. The
Pope, who at the same time had had a similar vision, joyfully accedes to the
request of the two pious solitaries; the order of the Most Holy Trinity for the
Redemption of Captives is thus established. The priest was called John of
Matha ; the hermit, Felix of Valois. They apply with ardent zeal to their work
of charity ; after having dried up the tears of numbers of unhappy beings, they
now receive in heaven the reward of their labors. The Church, wishing to cele
brate their memories, has placed them on her altars.

The foundation of the order of Mercy had a similar origin. St. Peter
Nolasco, having spent all he possessed in the redemption of captives, had sought
in vain for new resources to continue his pious undertaking He had set him
self to pray, in order to strengthen himself in his holy resolution of selling his
own liberty, or remaining himself a captive in the p\ice of some of his
brethren. During his prayer the Blessed Virgin appeared to him ; she gave
him to understand how pleasing the foundation of an oider for the redemption
of captives would be to herself and her Divine Son. The saint, after consulting .
the King of Aragon and St. Raymond of Penafort, proceeded to the establisl^-
ment of the order. He converted into a vow, not only for himself but for alj
those who embraced the institute, the holy desire which he had previously had
to devote himself to slavery for the ransom of his brethren.

t repeat what I have already said : in whatever manner you judge of these

260 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

apparitions, and if even you attempt to lay them aside altogether as mere illu
sions, it is not the less proved that the Catholic religion has labored with
immense power to relieve a great misfortune, and that no one can call in question
the utility of the holy institution in which the heroism of charity is so wonder
fully personified. Indeed, supposing that the founder, the dupe of illusions,
took for a revelation from heaven what was only the inspiration of ar 1-Mit zealj
do not the benefits lavished on the unhappy captives remain the same? We
hear much of illusions; but certain it is that these illusions produced a reality
When St. Peter Armengol, wanting all resources to deliver some unfortunates,
remained as a hostage in their place, and when the day of ransom had expired,
resigned himself to be hung because the money had not arrived from Europe,
the illusions certainly did not remain sterile. What reality could produce
greater prodigies of zeal and, heroism? Long ago have the things of religion
been condemned as illusions and madness; from the earliest times of Chris
tianity the mystery of the cross was treated as folly; but we do not see that
this prevented the pretended folly from changing the face of the world.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE UNIVERSAL PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION IMPEDED BY PROTESTANTISM

IN the rapid sketch which I have just given, my intention has not been to
write the history of the religious orders; this did not form part of my design.
I am satisfied with having offered a series of remarks which, by showing the
importance of these institutions, were calculated to vindicate Catholicity from
the accusations made against her on account of the protection which she has at
all times afforded them. How could a comparison be made between Catholi
city and Protestantism in their relations with the civilization of Europe, with
out devoting a few pages to the examination of the influence which these insti
tutions have exercised on civilization 5* Now, if it is once shown that this influ
ence was salutary, Protestantism, which has persecuted and calumniated these
religious institutions with so much hatred and rancor, remains convicted of
having done violence to the history of our civilization, of having mistaken its
spirit, and still more of having aimed a blow at the legitimate de\elopment of
that civilization itself.

These reflections naturally lead me to point out another fault which Protest
antism has committed. When breaking the unity of European civilization, it
introduced discord into the bosom of that civilization, and weakened the physi
cal and moral action which it exercised on the rest of the world. Europe was
apparently destined to civilize the whole world. The superiority of her intelli
gence, the preponderance of her strength, the superabundance of her population,
her enterprising and valiant character, her transports of generosity and hero
ism, her communicating and propagating spirit, seemed to call her to diffuse
her ideas, feelings, laws, manners, and institutions to the four quarters of the
universe. How does it happen that she has not realized this destiny ? How
does it happen that barbarism is still found at her gates, and that Islamism still
maintains itself in one of the finest climates and countries of Europe ? Asia,
with her want of moving power, weakness, despotism, and degradation of wo
men; Asia, with all the disgraces of humanity, lies under our eyes; and
scarcely have we done any thing which gives reason to hope that she will
emerge from her degraded state. Asia Minor, the coasts of Palestine, Egypt,
and the whole of Africa, are before us in a deplorable condition — a degradation
which excites pity, and forms a melancholy contrast with the great recollections
of history America, af^r four centuries of incessant communication vith us.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 261

Is still so much behindhand that a great part of her intellectual powers and the
resources with which nature has furnished her, remain until this day to be im
proved. How does it happen that Europe, full of life, rich in means of all
kinds, overflowing with vigor and eriergy, has remained within the narrow
limits in which she still is ? If we pay deep attention to this melancholy phe
nomenon, a phenomenon with which it is very strange that the philosophy of
history has not occupied itself, we shall find the cause. The entire cause thereof
is the want of unity ; her external action has been without concert, and conse
quently without efficacy. Men constantly vaunt the utility of association ; they
point out how necessary it is to obtain grand results, and they do not dream
that because this principle applies to nations as well as to individuals, nations,
like individuals, cannot accomplish great works, without conforming to this
general law. When an assemblage of nations of the same origin, and subject
for many ages to the same influence, have reached the development of their
civilization under the guidance and control of a common idea, among them asso
ciation becomes a real necessity ; they form a family of brothers ; now, among
brothers, division and discord have worse results than among strangers.

I do not pretend to say that the nations of Europe could have attained to so
perfect a concord, that perpetual peace would have been established among
them, and that perfect harmony would have eventually presided over all their
undertakings with respect to the other countries of the globe; but without
giving way to beautiful illusions, the reality whereof is beyond the bounds of
possibility, we may nevertheless, and without hazard of contradiction, say, that,
in spite of particular differences between nation and nation, in spite of the
greater or less degree of opposition between external and internal interests,
Europe could have kept and perpetuated in her own breast a civilizing idea
which, raising itself above all the misery and littleness of human passions,
would have placed her in a condition to acquire a greater ascendency and a
stronger and more useful influence over the other nations of the world. Amid
the interminable series of wars and calamities which afllicted Europe during the
fluctuations of the barbarous nations, this unity of thought existed ; and it was
owing to it that order in the end came out of confusion, and that light con
quered darkness. In the long struggle of Christianity against Islamism, whe
ther in Europe, Asia, or Africa, this same unity of thought enabled Christian
civilization to triumph, in spite of the rivalries of kings and the excesses of
the people. While this unity existed, Europe preserved a transforming power
which made all that it touched become European sooner or later.

The heart is grieved at the sight of the disastrous event which broke this
precious unity, by diverting the course of our civilization and destroying its
fertilizing power. One can hardly observe without pain, not to say without
anger, that the appearance of Protestantism was exactly coincident with the
critical moment when the nations of Europe, about at length to reap the fruits
of long ages of continued labor and unheard-of efforts, appeared to the world
full of vigor, energy, and splendor. Putting forth gigantic strength, they dis
covered new worlds, and placed one hand on the East and the other on the
West. Vasco de Grama had doubled the Cape of Good Hope, he had showed
the way to the East Indies, and opened communication with unknown nations.
Christopher Columbus, with the fleet of Isabella, ploughed the Western seas,
discovered a new world, and planted the standard of Castile in unheard-of lands.
Ferdinand Cortez, at the head of a handful of brave men, penetrated to the heart
of the new continent, and took possession of its capital ; his arms, which the
natives had not yet seen, made him appear like a God launching his lightnings.
Europe everywhere displayed extreme activity ; a spirit of enterprise was
developed in all hearts; the hour had come when the nations of Europe were
about to see open before them a new horizon of power and grandeur, the limit?

262 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITT.

whereof were invisible to the eye. Magellan discovered the strait which united
the east and west; and Sebastian d'Elcano, returning to the Spanish coasts,
after having made the tour of the world, seemed to be the sublime personification
of European civilization taking possession of the universe. At one extremity
of Europe, the crescent still shows itself powerful and threatening, like a dark
figure appearing in the corner of a splendid picture : but fear nothing ; ita
armies have been driven from Granada, the Christian host is encamped on the
coast of Africa, the standard of Castile floats on the walls of Oran, and in the
heart of Spain grows up in silence the wonderful child, who, when he has but
just laid aside the playthings of his age, will frustrate the last efforts of the
Moors of that country by the triumphs of Alpujarres, and shortly after will
break the Mussulman power for ever on the waves of Lepanto.

The development of mind kept pace with the increase of power. Erasmus
examined all the sources of knowledge, astonished the world by his talents and
his learning, and spread his fame in triumph from one end of Europe to the other.
The distinguished Spaniard, Louis Vives, rivalled the savant of Rotterdam, and
undertook nothing less than to regenerate the sciences, and give a new direction
to the human mind. In Italy, the schools of philosophy were in a state of fer
mentation, and they seized with avidity the new lights brought from Constan
tinople. In the same country, the genius of Dante and Petrarch was continued
in their illustrious successors ; the land of Tasso resounded with his accents
like the nightingale announcing the coming of the dawn ; while Spain, intoxi
cated with her triumphs, and transported with pride at the sight of her conquests,
sang like a soldier who, after victory, reposes on a heap of trophies. What
could resist such superiority, such brilliant display, such great power? Europe,
already secure against all her enemies, enjoying a prosperity which must every
day increase, put in possession of laws and institutions better than any which
had before been seen, and whereof the completion and perfection could not fail
to come with the slow progress of time : Europe, we say, in a condition so
prosperous, replete with noble hopes, was about to commence the work of civi •
lizing the world. Even the discoveries which were every day made, indicated
that the happy moment had arrived. Fleets transported, together with war
riors, apostolic missionaries, whose hands were about to scatter in the new
countries the precious seed, whence, in the progress of time, was to grow up
the tree under whose shadow new nations were to find shelter. Thus was the
noble work begun, which, favored by Providence, was about to civilize America,
Africa, and Asia.

But the voice of the apostate who was about to cast discord into the bosoms
of fraternal nations already resounded in the heart of Germany. The dispute
begins, minds are excited, the irritation reaches its height, an appeal is made to
arms, blood flows in torrents, and the man who had been commisioned by hell
to scatter this cloud of calamities over the earth, contemplating before his death
the dreadful fruit of his labors, can insult the sorrows of the human race with a
cruel and impudent smile. Such do we figure to ourselves the genius of evil
leaving his dark abode and his throne in the midst of horrors. He suddenly
appears on the face of the globe, his hand sheds desolation and tears on all sides ;
he casts a look over the devastation which he has made, and then buries himself
in eternal darkness.

By extending itself over Europe, the schism of Luther weakened in a deplo
rable manner the action of Europeans on the other nations of the world ; the
flattering hopes which had been conceived were dissipated in a moment, and
became no more than a golden dream. Henceforth, the largest part of our
intellectual, moral, and physical powers was condemned to be employed and
sadly wasted in a struggle which armed brethren against brethren. The nationr
vhich had preserved Catholicity were compelled to concentrate all their resource

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICIT1 *2t)3

power, and energy, in order to make head against the impious attacks which the
new sectaries made upon them by the press or by force of arms. The nations
among v horn the contagion of the new errors had been propagated were thrown
into a sort of giddiness ; they had no other enemies but the Catholics, and they
considered only one enterprise worthy of their efforts — the degradation and
destruction of the Roman See. Their thoughts no longer tended towards the
invention of means for improving the lot of the human race ; the immense field
which had been thrown open to noble ambition by the recent discoveries, no
longer merited attention ; for them there was only one holy work — that of
destroying the authority of the Roman Pontiff.

This condition of men's minds struck with sterility the ascendency over
nations recently discovered or conquered, which naturally belonged to Euro
peans. When the nations of Europe simultaneously approached new regions,
they no longer met as brothers or generous rivals, stimulated by noble ambi
tion ; they were exasperated and implacable enemies, men who differed in reli
gion, and who fought battles against each other as bloody as those which had
formerly been witnessed between the Christians and the Moors. The name of
the Christian religion, which had been the symbol of peace for so many ages —
a name which on the eve of battle was able to compel adversaries to lay aside
their hatred, and embrace like brothers, instead of tearing each other in pieces
like lions ; a name which had served as an ensign to secure their triumph over
Mohammedan legions : this name, now disfigured by sacrilegious hands, became
a type of discord ; and after Europe had been covered with blood and mourning,
the scandal was transported to the nations of the New World. These simple
and confiding nations were stricken with stupefaction on seeing the miseries,
the spirit of division, hatred, and revenge which reigned among the same men
upon whom they had just looked as demigods.

From that time forward, the forces of Europe were not united in any of those
great enterprises which had shed so much glory on previous ages. The Catho
lic missionary, watering the Indian or American forests with his sweat and blood,
could reckon on the assistance of the nation to which he belonged, if that nation
remained Catholic'; but he could not hope that all Europe, uniting in the work
of Grod, would come to sustain the distant missions with her resources ; he knew,
on the contrary, that a great many Europeans would calumniate and insult him,
and use all imaginable means to prevent the seed of the gospel from taking root
on the new soil, and increasing the power of the Popes, by adding to the renown
of the Catholic Church.

There was a time when the profanations of the Mussulmen in Jerusalem, and
the injuries inflicted on the pilgrims who visited the Holy Sepulchre, were suf
ficient to arouse the indignation of all Christian nations. They all uttered the
cry, To arms! and in crowds they followed the monk who led them to avenge
the outrages against religion and the pious pilgrims. After the heresy of
Luther, all was changed : the death of a missionary sacrificed in a foreign land,
his torments and martyrdom, sublime scenes in which the zeal and charity of
the first ages of the Church reappeared with all their energy : all this was
devoted to contempt and ridicule by men who called themselves Christians —
the unworthy posterity of the heroes whose blood had flowed under the walls
of Jerusalem.

In order to conceive in its full extent the evil caused by Protestantism iu
this respect, let us imagine for a moment that Protestantism had not appeared ;
and in this hypothesis, let us make a few reflections on the probable course of
events. In the first place, all the strength, genius, and resources which Spain
employed to make head in the religious wars excited on the continent, would
have been able to exert themselves in the New World. The same would have
been the case vith France, the Low Countries, and England. These nations,

264 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

although divided, have been able to furnish brilliant and glorious pages ill hi»
tory ; if their action on the new countries had been united and concentrated,
would they not have exerted a vigor and energy which would have been irre
sistible ? Imagine all the ports from the Baltic to the Adriatic sending then
missionaries to the East and to the West, as did France, Spain, Portugal, and
Italy ; imagine all the great cities of Europe as so many centres where means
for this great object are collected ; imagine all the missionaries guided by the
same views, under the influence of the same thought, and burning with the same
zeal for the propagation of the same faith ; wherever they meet, they meet aa
brothers, and co-operate in the common cause ; all are under the same autho
rity : do you not imagine that you see the Christian religion exerting herself
on an immense scale, and everywhere gaining the most signal triumphs ? The
vessel which bears the apostolic men to distant regions may fearlessly unfurl
her sails ; when she discovers the flag of another country on the horizon, she
is under no apprehension of meeting with enemies ; she is sure of finding friends
and brothers wherever there are Europeans.

The Catholic missions, in spite of the obstacles which have been opposed to
them by the turbulent spirit of Protestantism, have accomplished the most
difficult enterprises, and realized prodigies which form a brilliant page in
modern history ; but how much nobler would have been their results, if Italy,
Spain, Portugal, and France had been supported by the whole of G-ermany, the
United Provinces, England, and other northern nations? This association was
natural, and must have been realized, had not the schism of Luther destroyed
it. It may be observed, moreover, that this fatal event not only placed an
obstacle in the way of universal association, but hindered the Catholic nations
themselves from devoting the greatest part of their resources to the great work
of converting and regenerating the world : they were compelled to remain con
tinually under arms, on account of religious wars and civil discords. At thL,
epoch the religious orders were apparently called to be the arm of religion ; by
their means religion, consolidated in Europe and satisfied with the social rege
neration which she had just worked, would have extended her action to the infi
del nations.

When we glance over the course of events during the earliest ages of the
Church, and compare them with those of modern times, we clearly see that
some powerful cause must have interfered in modern times to oppose the pro
pagation of the faith. Christianity appears, and she extends herself imme
diately with rapidity, without any aid on the part of men, and in spite of all
.,he efforts of princes, sages, priests, the passions, and of all the stratagems of
hell. She is but of yesterday, and already she is powerful, and prevails in all
parts of the empire; nations differing in language and manners, nations of
various degrees of civilization, abandon the worship of their false gods, and
embrace the religion of Jesus Christ. The barbarians themselves, as intract
able and indomitable as wild horses, listen to the missionaries who are sent to
them, and bow their heads ; in the midst of conquest and victory, they are seen
to embrace the religion of those whom they have just conquered. Christianity
in modern times has been in possession of the exclusive empire of Europe; and
yet she has not been able to succeed in introducing herself again on the coasts
of Africa and Asia, which lie under her eye. It is true, that the greatest part
of America is become Christian ; but observe, that the nations of those countries
have been conquered; there the conquering nations have established those
governments which have lasted for ages ; the European nations have inundated
tho New World with their soldiers and colonies, so that a considerable portion
of America is a kind of importation from Europe ; consequently, the religious
transformation of that country does not resemble that which took place in the
tarly ages* of tins Church. Turn towards the West, where Eur )peau arms have

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 265

not obtained a decided preponderance; see what takes place there : the nations
are still under the joke of false religions. Christianity has not been able to
enlighten them ; although the Catholic missions have obtained the means of
founding a few establishments more or less considerable, the precious seed has
iiot been able to take sufficient root in the soil, in order to bear the fruits which
ardent charity hoped for, and heroic zeal labored to produce. From time to
time, the rays of divine light have penetrated to the heart of the great empires
of Japan and China ; at certain moments flattering hopes might be conceived ;
but these hopes have been dissipated, these rays of light have disappeared like
a brilliant meteor amidst the darkness of midnight.

What is the cause of this impotence ? whence comes it that the fertilizing
power, after having been so great in the first ages, had proved so vain in the
last ? Let us not examine the profound secrets of Providence, or seek to inquire
into the incomprehensible mysteries of the Divine ways ; but as far as it is given
to a feeble spirit to learn the truth by the evidences contained in the history of
the Church, as far as it is allowed us to carry our conjectures on the designs of the
Most High, according to the indications which the Lord himself has been pleased
to communicate to us, let us hazard an opinion on the facts : although dependent
on a superior order, they yet have an ordinary course, which is regulated by
God himself. The apostle St. Paul says that faith comes from hearing. Ho
asks, how it is possible to hear, if there is no one who preaches, and how can
there be preaching, if there is no one who sends ? Hence, we must conclude
•that missions are necessary for the conversion of nations, since God has not
thought fit by constant miracles to send legions of angels from heaven to teach
the nations who are deprived of the light of the earth.

Having laid down this principle, I will say that what was required for the
conversion of infidel nations was the organization of missions on a large scale.
There were required missions which, by the abundance of their resources and
the number of their laborers, might be in proportion to the greatness of the
object. Observe that the distances are immense, that the nations to whom the
divine word is to be announced are dispersed in many countries, and live under
the influence of laws, prejudices, and climates the most opposite to the spirit of
the Gospel. To make head against such vast wants, and surmount such great
difficulties, there was required a perfect inundation of missionaries; without
whom the result would remain doubtful, the existence of religious establishments
very precarious, and the conversion of great nations little probable, unless Pro
vidence interfered by one of those prodigies which change the face of the world
in an instant. Now Providence does not renew these prodigies every moment ;
sometimes he does not even accord them to the most ardent supplications of the
Saints

In order to form a complete idea of what took place in the latter ages, let us
pay ^ attention to what exists. What is wanting to infidel nations? What is
the incessant cry of the zealous men who devote themselves to the propagation
of the G-ospeU Do we not constantly hear lamentations on the small number
of laborers, and on the scanty resources which are devoted to the subsistence of
the missionaries ? Is not this penury of resources the cause of the associations
now formed among the Catholics of Europe ?

The organization of missions on a large scale would have been realized if
Protestantism had not come to prevent it. The nations of Europe, the privi
leged children of Providence, had the obligation and showed a decided will to
procure for the other nations of the world, by all the means in their power, a
participation in the benefits of the faith. Unhappily this faith was weakened
in Europe, it was given up to the caprices of human reason, and henceforth what
had before been of easy execution became impossible. Providence, which had
permitted the deplorable iisaster of the schism, permits alsjo to be deferred to a

2C6 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

more remote period the happy day when the benighted nations sha.l entei in
great numbers into the fold of the Church.

But perhaps I shall be told that the zeal of modern Catholicity is n )t that of
the early ages of Christianity, and this is one of the reasons which have pre
vented the conversion of infidel nations. I will not make a long comparison or
this point ; I will not say all that might be said ; I will content myself with
making an observation which will remove the difficulty at once. Our* Divine
Saviour, in order to send His disciples to preach the Gospel, wished that they
should abandon all they had and follow Him. The same Saviour, revealing to
as the infallible sign of true charity, tells us that there is nothing greater than
to give one's life for one's brethren. The Catholic missionaries of the three
last centuries have renounced all, have abandoned their country, their families,
all the comforts of life, all that can engage the heart of man on earth j they
have gone to seek the infidels amid the most imminent dangers, and they have
sealed with their blood, in all parts of the world, their ardor for the conversion
of their brethren, and for the salvation of souls. I believe that such missionaries
are worthy of succeeding to those of the first ages of the Church ; all declama
tions and calumnies are impotent before the -triumphant evidence of facts. The
Church of the early ages would be honored, like that of our times, by a St.
Francis Xavier and the martyrs of Japan.

We have spoken, also, of the abundance of the missionaries. The Church
had a wonderful fecundity for the conversion of the ancient and barbarian
world. At her first appearance, the fiery tongues of the Cenacle and the multi
tude of prodigies made up for numbers, and multiplied the servants of God.
Nations of different languages, listening to the same discourse, heard it at the
same time each one in his own tongue ; but after this first impulse, by which
the Almighty was pleased to confound the powers of hell, things followed the
ordinary course, and a greater number of missionaries was required for a greater
number of conversions. The great centres of faith and charity, the numerous
churches of the East and West, furnished in abundance the apostolic men neces
sary for the propagation of the faith ; and this sacred army had a powerful
reserve at hand ready to make up its deficiencies when sickness, fatigues, and
martyrdom had thinned its ranks. Rome was the centre of this great move
ment ; but Home, in order to give the impulse, had no need either of fleets
ready to transport the holy colonies to many thousand places, or of great
treasures to support missionaries in desert regions and countries altogether
unknown. When the missionary, prostrate at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff,
asked his apostolical benediction, the holy father could send him in peace with
his pastoral staff alone ; he knew that the Gospel envoy was about to traverse
Christian countries, and that even in idolatrous lands he would not be far from
princes already converted, from bishops, priests, and faithful nations ; none of
whom would refuse succor to him who went to sow the divine word in the
neighboring countries.

I leave the reflections which I have just made, on the injury done to the influ
ence of Europe by the schism of Protestantism, with confidence to the judgment
of thinking men. I am deeply convinced that this influence thereby received a
terrible blow. Without the fatal event of the sixteenth century, the condition
of the world would now be very different from what it is. I may, no doubt,
delude myself in some degree on this point; but I will appeal to simple good
sense whether it is not true, that unity of action, of principles, and of views, the
combination of resources, and the association of agents, are not in all things the
secret of success, and the surest guarantee for a happy result. I will then ask
whether Protestantism did not break this unity, render this combination impos
sible, and this association impracticable? Are not these facts indisputable, as
4ear as the Hght of dav ? These fa its are recent — they are of vesterday ; what

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. ^67

is their consequence ? what deduction should be drawn fi\)m them ? Let impar
tiality, good sense, and mere common sense, answer me, if they be only accom
panied by good faith.

To every thinking man, it is evident that Europe is not what she would have
been without the appearance of Protestantism ; and certainly it is not less evi
dent, that the results of its civilizing influence on the world have not answered
the promises of the early years of the sixteenth century. Let Protestants boast
of having given a new direction to European civilization ; let them vaunt of
having enfeebled the spiritual power of the Popes, by removing millions of souls
from the sacred fold ; let them glory in having destroyed the religious orders in
countries subject to their dominion — of having broken in pieces the ecclesiastical
hierarchy, and thrown the Bible in the midst of ignorant crowds, with the
assurance that, to understand the sacred volume, private inspiration or the judg
ment of natural reason was enough ; yet it is not the less certain that the unity
)f the Christian religion has disappeared among them, that they want a centre
whence great efforts may proceed, that they are without a guide, wandering like
a flock without a shepherd, blown about by every wind of doctrine, and unable
to bring forth the least of those great works which Catholicity has produced,
and still produces, in such abundance ; it is not the less certain that, by their
eternal disputes, their calumnies, their attacks upon the dogmas and the disci
pline of the Church, they have compelled the latter to hold herself in an atti
tude of defence — to contend for three centuries, depriving her of the precio is
time and means which she would have used to complete the great projects ii
tended by her, and already so happily begun. Is it a merit to divide men, U
provoke discord, to excite wars, to change brother nations into enemies, to con
vert the great family-party of nations into an arena for rancorous strife ? Is it
a merit to throw discredit on the missionaries who go to preach the Gospel to
infidel nations — to place all imaginable obstacles in their way — to employ every
means to render their zeal useless, and their charity without result ? If, indeed,
all this be a merit, then I acknowledge that this merit belongs to Protestantism ;
but if all this be disastrous, and injurious to humanity, it is Protestantism which
must be responsible for it.

When Luther said that he was charged with a high mission, he spoke the
truth, but a fearful and alarming truth, and one which he did not understand.
The sins of nations sometimes fill up the measure of the patience of the Mret
High. The sound of human offences mounts to heaven, and calls for vengeance ;
the Eternal, in His fearful anger, sends down a look of fire upon the earth ;
then strikes the fatal hour in His secret and infinite resolves, and the son of
perdition, who is to cover the world with mourning and desolation, appears. As
the cataracts of heaven were formerly opened to sweep the human race from the
face of the earth, so are the calamities which the God of vengeance holds in
reserve for the day of His anger, poured forth from their urn and scattered over
the world. The son of perdition raises his voice ; that moment is marked by
the beginning of the catastrophe. The spirit of evil moves over the whol«
face of the globe, bearing on his sable pinions the echo of that ominous voice
An incomprehensible giddiness takes possession of men's heads; the nations
have eyes, and see not; they have ears, and hear not; in their delirium, tlu
most frightful precipices appear to them smooth, peaceful, and flowery paths
they call good evil, and evil good; they drink with feverish eagerness of the
poisoned cup ; forgetfulness of all the past, ingratitude for all benefits, seize all
minds; the work of the genius of evil is consummated; the prince of the rebel
lious spirits may again bury himself in his empire of darkness ; and the human
race has learned, by a terrible lesson, that the indignation of the Most High is
ajt to be provoked with impunity

268
CHAPTER XL VI.

THE JESUITS.

As F. am treating of religious institutions, I must n* t pass ovei in silence
ihat oslebrated order, which, from the first years of its existence, asstimed th€
»tature of a colossus, and employed all a giant's strength ; that order which
perished without having felt decay ; which did not follow the common course
of others, either in its foundation, in its development, or even in its fall ; that
order of which it is truly and correctly said, that it had neitheHnfancy nor old
age. It is clear that I speak of the society of Jesus, the Jesuits. The name
alone will be enough to alarm a certain class of readers ; and, therefore, in
order to tranquillize them, I will say that I do not here undertake to write ar
apology for the Jesuits; this task does not belong to the character of my work;
moreover, others have undertaken it, and it is not necessary for me to repeat
what is well known. But it is impossible to call to mind the religious institu
tions, the religious, political, and literary history of Europe, during the last
three centuries, without meeting the Jesuits at every step : we cannot travel in
the most distant countries, traverse unknown seas, visit the most remote lands,
or penetrate the most frightful deserts, without finding everywhere under out
feet some memorials of the Jesuits. On the other hand, we cannot look at our
libraries without immediately remarking the writings of some Jesuits. Since
this is the case, even those among our readers who have the greatest horror of
them, ought to pardon us for fixing our attention for a moment on this institute
which has filled the world with its name. Even if we were to attach no im
portance to their modern revival, and to regard their present existence and their
probable future as unworthy of examination, it would still be altogether inex
cusable not to speak of them, at least as a historical fact. To pass them over
in silence, would be to imitate those ignorant and heartless travellers, who, with
stupid indifference, tread under foot the most interesting ruins and the most
valuable remains.

When we study the history of the Jesuits, this very extraordinary circum
stance is apparent : they have existed only for a few years, if compared with the
duration of other religious bodies, and yet there is no religious order which has
been the object of such keen animosity. From their origin, they heave had
numerous enemies ; never have they been, free from them, either in their pros
perity and greatness, or in their fall, or even after it ; never has their persecu
tion ceased ; we should rather say, never has the animosity with which the}
have been pursued ceased. Since their reappearance, men have constantly
fixed their eyes upon them ; they tremble lest they should resume their ancient
power ; the splendor which is reflected on them by the recollections of their
brilliant history renders them visible everywhere, and augments the fears of
their enemies. How many men among us are more alarmed at the foundation
of a Jesuits' college than at an irruption of Cossacks ! There is, therefore,
something very singular and extraordinary in this institute, since it excites. the
public attention in so high a degree, and its mere name disconcerts its enemies.
Men do not despise the Jesuits, but they fear them ; sometimes they attempt
to throw ridicule on them ; but when that weapon is employed against them,
it is felt that he who wields it is not sufficiently calm to use it with success. In
vain does he attempt to affect contempt ; through the affectation every one can
pei ccive disquietude and anxiety. It is immediately seen that he who attacks
does not believe himself opposed to insignificant adversaries. His bile is ex
cited, his sallies become checked, his words, steeped in a fearful bitterness, fall
from his mouth like drops from a poisoned cup ; it is clear that he takes the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 269

aiFaii to heart, and does not look upon it as a mere joke. We fancy W3 heai
him say to himself, "Every thing affecting the Jesuits is extremely grave;
there is no playing with these men — no regard, no indulgence, no moderation
of any kind ; it is necessary always to treat them with rigor, harshness, and
detestation ; with them, the least negligence may become fatal."

Unless I am much deceived, this is the best demonstration that can be given
of the eminent merit of the Jesuits. It must be the same with classes and cor
porations as with individuals — very extraordinary merit necessarily excites nu
merous enemies, for the simple reason that such merit is always envied, and
very often dreaded. In order to know the real cause of this implacable hatred
against them, it is enough to consider who are their principal enemies. We
know that Protestants and infidels figure there in the first rank ; in the second,
we remark the men who, with more or less clearness and resolution, show them
selves but little attached to the authority of the Roman Church. Both, in their
hatred against the Jesuits, are guided by a very rare instinct, for truly they
have never met with a more redoubtable adversary. This reflection is worthy
of the attention of sincere Catholics, who, for one cause or another, entertain
unjust prejudices. When we have to form a judgment on the merit and con
duct of a man, it is very often a sure means of deciding between contrary
opinions to inquire who are his enemies.

When we fix our attention on the institute of the Jesuits, on the time of its
foundation, on the rapidity and greatness of its progress, we find the important
truth which I have before pointed out more and more confirmed, viz., that the
Catholic Church, with wonderful fruitfulness, always furnishes an idea worthy
of her to meet all the necessities which arise. Protestantism opposed the Ca
tholic doctrines with the pomp and parade of knowledge and learning; the eclat
of human literature, the knowledge of languages, the taste for the models of
antiquity, were all employed against religion with a constancy and ardour worthy
of a better cause. Incredible efforts were made to destroy the pontifical authority;
when they could not destroy it, they attempted at least to weaken and discredit
it, The evil spread with fearful rapidity; the mortal poison already circulated
in the veins of a considerable portion of the European nations: the contagion
began to be propagated even in countries which had remained faithful to the truth.
To complete the misfortune, schism and heresy, traversing the seas, corrupted
the faith of the simple neophytes of the New World. What was to be done in
such a crisis? Could such great evils be remedied by ordinary means? Was
it possible to make head against such great and imminent perils by employing
common arms ? Was it not proper to make some on purpose for such a struggle,
to temper the cuirass and shield, to fit them for this new kind of warfare, m
order that the cause of truth might not appear in the new arena under fatal
disadvantages ? Who can doubt that the appearance of the Jesuits was the
answer to these questions, that their institute was the solution of the problem ?

The spirit of the coming ages was essentially one of scientific and literary
progress. The Jesuits were aware of this truth; they perfectly understood.it.

It was necessary to advance with rapidity and never to remain behind : ihi*
the new institute does; it takes the lead in all sciences; it allows none to anti
cipate it. Men study the oriental languages ; ,they produce great works on the
Bible; they search the books of the ancient Fathers, the monuments of tradi
tion and of ecclesiastical decisions: in the midst of this great activity, the Jesuits
are at their posts ; many superemiueut works issue from their colleges. The
taste for dogmatical controversy is spread over all Europe : many schools preserve
and love the scholastic discussions : immortal works of controversy come from
the hands of the Jesuits, at the same time that they yield to none in skill and
penetration in the schools. The mathematics, astronomy, all the natural
sciences, mak) great progress; learned societies are forited in "he capitals of

270 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Europe to cultivate and encourage them : in these societies the Jesuits figure in
the first rank. The spirit of time is naturally dissolvent : the institute of thf
Jesuits is interiorly armed against dissolution; in spite of th3 rapidity of its
course, it advances in a compact order, like the mass of a powerful army. The
errors, the eternal disputes, the multitude of the new opinions, even the progress
of the sciences, by exciting men's minds, give a fatal inconstancy to the human
intellect — an impetuous whirlwind, agitating and stirring up all things,' carries
them away. The order of the Jesuits appears in the midst of this whirlwind,
but it partakes neither of its inconstancy nor of its variability ; it pursues its
career without losing itself; and while only irregularity and vacillation are seen
among its adversaries, it advances with a sure step, tending towards its object,
like a planet which performs its orbit according to fixed laws. The authority
of the Pope, assailed with animosity by Protestants, was indirectly attacked by
others with stratagem and dissimulation ; the Jesuits showed themselves faith
fully attached to that authority ; they defend it wherever it is threatened; like
vigilant sentinels, they constantly watch over the preservation of Catholic unity.
Their knowledge, influence, and riches never affect their profound submission to
the authority of the Popes — a submission which was ever their distinctive cha
racteristic. In consequence of the discovery of the new countries in the east
and west, a taste for travelling, for observing distant countries, for the know
ledge of the language, manners, and customs of the recently discovered nations,
was developed in Europe. The Jesuits, spread over the face of the globe, while
preaching the Gospel to the nations, do not forget the study of the thousand
things which may interest cultivated Europe; and at their return from their
gigantic expeditions, they are seen adding their valuable treasures to the common
fund of modern science.

How, then, can we be surprised that Protestants have been so violent against
an institute in which they found so terrible an enemy ; and, on the other hand,
was there any thing more natural than to see all the other enemies of religion,
.;nemies some of whom were wholly unmasked and some partially disguised,
make common cause with Protestants on this point ? The Jesuits were a wall
of brass against the assaults upon the Catholic faith ; it was resolved to under
mine and overturn this rampart; which in the end was accomplished. Very
few years had elapsed since the suppression of the Jesuits, and already the
memory of the great crimes which were imputed to them was effaced by the
ravages of an unexampled revolution. Men of good faith, whose excessive con
fidence had believed perfidious calumnies, could convince themselves that the
riches, knowledge, influence, and the pretended ambition of the Jesuits, would
never have been as fatal as the triumph of their enemies; these religious men
would never have upset a throne or cut off the head of a king on the scaffold.

M. Guizot, in glancing at European civilization, necessarily encountered the
Jesuits; and it must be acknowledged that he has not done them the justice to
which they are entitled. After having lamented the inconsistency of the Pro
testant Reformation, and the narrow spirit which guided it, after having confessed
that Catholics knew very well what they did and what they wished, and that they
nctod up to the principles of their conduct and avowed all their consequences,
M. Guizot declares that there never was a more consistent government than that
«/f Rome, and that the court of Rome, always having a fixed idea, has known
how to pursue a consistent and regular line of conduct; he extols the strength
which results from a full knowledge of what one does and what one wishes;
he shows the advantage of a settled design, and of the complete and absolute
adoption of a principle and system; that is to say, he makes a brilliant pane
gyric on, and a powerful apology for, the Catholic Church. Nevertheless, M.
Guizot finds the Jesuits in his way, and unworthy as it is of such a mind as his,
which, in order to require just renown, has no p^id of burning incense before

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATIiOLIClTY 271

vulgar prejudices or mean passions, he attempts, in passing, to throw a reproach
upon them. " Every one knows," says M. Guizot, " that the principal power
instituted to contend against the religious revolution, was the order of the Jesuits.
Throw a glance over their history ; they have failed everywhere ; wherever they
have interfered to any extent, they have brought misfortune to the cause in which
they have engaged. In England they have destroyed kings, in Spain nations."
M. Guizot had just told us of the superiority which is obtained over an adver
sary by regular and consistent conduct, by the complete and absolute adoption
of a system, and by a fixed idea; as a proof of all this he showed us the Jesuits,
he exhibited to us in them the expression of the system of the Church; and
behold, without any explanation, if not without a motive, the writer suddenly
changes his course ; the advantages of the system which he has just praised
disappear from his eyes ; for those who follow this system, that is the Jesuits
themselves, fail everywhere, and everywhere bring misfortunes on the cause
which they embrace. How can such assertions be reconciled ? The credit,
influence, and sagacity of the Jesuits have passed into a proverb. The reproach
against them was, of having extended their views too far, of having conceived
ambitious plans, and obtained by their skill a decided ascendency in all the
places where they succeeded in gaining entrance ; Protestants themselves have
openly confessed that the Jesuits were their most redoubtable adversaries ; it was
always thought that the foundation of the order had an immense result, and now
we learn from M. Guizot, that the Jesuits have everywhere failed ; that their
support, far from being a great succour, always brought fatality and misfortune
to the cause of which they declared themselves the advocates. It' they were
such fatal servants, why were their services sought with so much eagerness?
Tf they always conducted affairs so ill, why have the most important ones in the
end fallen into their hands'/ Adversaries so foolish or so unfortunate certainly
ought not to have excited in the enemies' camp so much clamor as was raised at
their approach.

"in England the Jesuits have destroyed kings, in Spain nations." Nothing
is easier than these bold strokes of the pen ; the whole of a great history is
traced in a single line, and an infinity of facts, grouped and confounded, are
made to pass under the eye of the reader with the rapidity of lightning ; the
eye has not even time to look at them, still less to analyze them as would be
necessary. JM. Guizot should have devoted some sentences to prove his assertion ;
ue should have stated the facts and pointed out the reasons on which he builds,
when he affirms that the influence of the Jesuits has had so fatal an effect.
With respect to the kings of England here so boldly sacrificed, I cannot enter
into an examination of the religious and political revolutions which agitated and
desolated the three kingdoms for two centuries after the schism of Henry VIII.
These revolutions, in their immense circle, have presented very different phases;
disfigured and perverted by the Protestants, who have success in their favor,
that decisive, if not convincing argument, they have made some men of little
reflection believe that the disasters of England were in great part due to the
imprudence of the Catholics, and, as an indispensable corollary, to the pretended
intrigues of the Jesuits. In spite of this, the Catholic movement which Eng
land has witnessed for half a century, and the great works which every day
carry on the restoration of Catholicity, will at last disperse the calumnies by
which our faith has been stigmatized. Before long, the history of the last three
tenturies will be restored as it ought, and the truth will appear in its proper
tight. This observation relieves me from the necessity of entering into details
jn the subject of the first assertion of M. Guizot; but I must not leave without
reply what he so gratuitously affirms on the subject of Spain.

" The Jesuits have destroyed nations in Spain," says M. Guizot; I wish that
iho publicist had explained to us to what great disastei he alluded. To what

272 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

period does he refer ? I have examined our history, and T do not find this ds
structlon -which was caused by the Jesuits; I cannot imagine whereon the his
torian fixed his eyes when he pronounced these words. Nevertheless, the
antithesis between Spain and England, between nations and kings, leads us tc
suspect that M. Guizot alluded to the shipwreck of political liberty ; we are not
aware that there is any other better-founded or more legitimate interpretation.
But then a new difficulty presents itself: how can we believe that a man so
versed in the knowledge of history, composing a course of lectures which is par
ticularly devoted to the general history of European civilization, should fall into
a palpable error, — should commit an unpardonable anachronism ? Indeed, what
ever may be the judgments of publicists on the causes which have produced the
loss of liberty in Spain, and on the important events of the days of the Catholic
sovereigns, of Philippe le Beau, of Jeanne-la-Folle, and the regency of Cisneros,
all are unanimous in saying that the war of the Commons was the critical mo
ment, decisive of the liberty of Spain ; all are agreed that the two parties played
their last stake at that time, and that the battle of Villalar and the punishment
of Padilla, by confirming and increasing the royal power, destroyed the last
hopes of the partisans of the ancient liberties. Well, the battle of Villalar was
fought in 1521 ; at that time the Jesuits did not exist, and St. Ignatius, their
founder, was still a brilliant knight, battling like a hero under the walls of
Pampeluna. To this there is no reply; all philosophy and eloquence are unable
to efface these dates.

Ihiring the sixteenth century, the Cortes met more or less often, and with
more or less influence, above all in the kingdom of Aragon ; but it is as clear
as daylight that the royal power had every thing under its domination, that
nothing could resist it, and the unfortunate attempt of the Aragonese, at tht
time of the affair of Don Antonio Perez, sufficiently shows that there existet
then no remains of ancient liberty which could oppose the will of kings. Some
years after the war of the Commons, Charles V. gave the coup <Je grace to the
Cortes of Castile, by excluding from it the clergy and the nobles, to leave only
the Estamento de Procuradores, a feeble rampart against the exigencies, against
the all-powerful attempts of a monarch on whose dominions the sun never set.
This exclusion took place in 1538, at the time when St. Ignatius was still occu
pied with the foundation of his order ; the Jesuits, therefore, could have had no
influence therein.

Still more, the Jesuits, after their establishment in Spain, never employ o^
their influence against the liberty of the people. From their pulpits they dij]
not teach doctrines favorable to despotism ; if they reminded the people of ther
duties, they also reminded kings of theirs; if they wished the rights of monarch
to be respected, they would not allow those of the people to be trodden undo
foot. To prove the truth of this, I appeal to the testimony of those who have
read the writings of the Jesuits of that time on questions of public law. " The
Jesuits," says M. Guizot, "were called to contend against the general course
of events, against the development of modern civilization, against the liberty ot
the human mind." If the general course of events is nothing but the course
of Protestantism, if the development of Protestantism is the development of
modern civilization, if the liberty of the human mind consists only in the fatal
pride, in the mad independence which the pretended reformers communicated
to it, then nothing is more true than the assertion of the publicist; but if the
preservation of Catholicity is a fact of any weight in the history of Europe, if
her influence during the last three centuries has amounted to any thing, if the
reigns of Charles V., Philip II., Louis XIV., do not deserve to be effaced from
modern history, and if regard ought to be had to that immense counterpoise to
which was owing the equilibrium of the two religious; in fine, if the faith of
Descartes, Maiebranche, Bossuet, and Fenelon, can make a dignified appearancu

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOT ICITY. '27 'A

in the picture of modern civilization, it is impossible to understand ho* tb«
Jesuits when intrepidly defending Catholicity, could be struggling against the
general course of events, against the development of modern civilization, and
against the freedom of human thought.

After having made this first false step, M. Guizot continues to slip in a de
plorable manner. I particularly call the attention of my readers to the follow-
ing evident contradictions: "With the Jesuits, there is no eclat, no grandeur.
They have performed no brilliant exploits." The publicist entirely forgets what
ne has just advanced, or rather he directly retracts it, when he adds, a few lines
.drther, "and yet, nothing is more certain than that they have had grandeur;
a grand idea belongs to their names, to their influence, and to their history. It
is because they knew what they did, and what they wished; it is because they
had a clear and full knowledge of the principles on which they acted, and of the
end towards which they tended ; that is to say, because they have had grandeur
of thought and of will." Is genius in its vastest enterprises, in the realization
of its most gigantic projects, any thing more than a grand idea and a grand
intention? The mind conceives, the will executes; this fashions the model,
that makes the application ; if there be grandeur in the model and in the appli
cation, how can the whole work fail to be grand ?

Pursuing the task of lowering the Jesuits, M. Guizot makes a parallel be
tween them and the Protestants ; he confounds ideas in such a way, and so fa,]
forgets the nature of things, that one would hardly believe it, if the words them
selves did not prove it beyond a doubt. Forgetting that it is necessary for the
terms of a comparison not to be of a totally different kind, which renders all
comparison impossible, M. Guizot compares a religious institute with whole
nations ; he goes so far as to reproach the Jesuits with not having raised the
people en masse, and with not having changed the form and condition of states.
Here is the passage : " They have acted in subterraneous, dark, and interior
ways • in ways which were not at all apt to strike the imagination, or to con
ciliate for them that public interest which attaches itself to great things, what
ever may be their principle and end. The party against which they contended,
on the contrary, not only conquered, but conquered with eclat; it has done
oreat things and by great means; it has aroused nations; it has filled ^urope
*ith great men; it has changed the form and the lot of nations in the lace o
day In a word, all has been against the Jesuits, both fortune and appear
ances." Without intending to offend M. Guizot, let us avow, that for the honor
of his logic, one would desire to efface from his writings such phrases as we have
just read. What ! ought the Jesuits to have put the nations m motion made
vaem arise en masse, and changed the form and condition of states ? ^Vou^
*ney not have been extraordinary religious men, if they had been allowed t
such things?. It was said of the Jesuits that they had unbounded ambition
and that they attempted to rule the world; and now they are compared witl
their adversaries in order to throw it in their faces that the latter have over
turned the world; a distinguished merit, which must have been a disgrace \
the Jesuits themselves. Indeed, the Jesuits have never attempted to imita
their adversaries on this point; with respect to the spirit of confusion and per
turbation, they joyfully yield the palm to those to whom it rightly belongs..

As far as great men are concerned, if the question be with respect to the
greatness of the enterprises which are becoming in a minister of the God
peace then have the Jesuits had this k nd of grandeur in an eminent degree
Whether it be in the most arduous affairs, or in the vastest projects m scie
and literature, whether it be in the most distant missions, or m the most
redoubtable perils, the Jesuits have never remained behind; on the -
they have been seen to display a spirit so bold and enterprising, tl
thereby obtained the most distinguished renown. If the great m

274 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

M. Guizot speaks are restless tribunes, who, putting themselves at the luad o\
an ungovernable people, violated the public peace, if they are the Protestant
warriors whose names have shone in the wars of Germany, France, and Eng
land, the comparison is foolish, and has no meaning; for priests and warriors,
religious and tribunes, are so distinct, so diifereut in actions and character, that
to compare them is impossible.

Justice required that in such a parallel, where the Jesuits are taken^ as one
of the terms of the comparison, Protestants should not be placed on the other,
unless by them the reformed ministers are meant. Even in this later case the
comparison would not have been absolutely exact, since, in the midst of thf
great differences between the two religions, the Jesuits are not found alone in
defending Catholicity. The Church, during the last three centuries, has had
great prelates, holy priests, eminent savants, and writers of the first order, who
did not belong to the company of Jesus ; the Jesuits were reckoned among the
principal champions, but they were not the only ones. Had it been wished
fairly to compare Protestantism with Catholicity, it would have been requisite
to oppose Protestant to Catholic nations, to compare priests with priests, savants
with savants, politicians with politicians, warriors with warriors; to do other
wise is monstrously to confound names and things, and to reckon too much on
the limited understandings and excessive simplicity of hearers and readers.
It is certain that if the method we have pointed out were adopted, Protestant
ism would not appear so brilliant and superior as the publicist has exhibited it
to us. Catholics, as M. Guizot well knows, do not yield to Protestants in
letters, in war, or in political ability. History is there; let it be consulted.

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE FUTURE OP RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. THEIR PRESENT NECESSITY.

WHEN, after having fixed our eyes on the vast and interesting picture which
religious communities present to us, after having called to mind their origin,
their varied forms, their vicissitudes of poverty and riches, of depression and
prosperity, of coldness and of fervor, of relaxation and strict reform, we see
them still subsist and arise anew on all sides, in spite of the efforts of their
enemies, we naturally ask what will be their future ? their past is full of glory ;
what influence have they not exerted in society, under a thousand different
aspects, and in the thousand phases of society itself? Yet what spec^cle do
they show us in modern times? On one hand they have been weake» «"- • •-->
an old wall which we see ruined by the effect of time; on the other *o oave
seen them suddenly disappear, like weak trees overthrown by the whirlw nd
Moreover, they seemed to be condemned by the spirit of the age without appeal.
Matter having become supreme, extended its empire on all sides, scarcely
allowing the mind a moment for reflection and meditation ; industry and com
merce, carrying their turmoil to the remotest parts of the earth, confirmed the
judgment of an irreligious philosophy against a class of men devoted to prayer,
silence, and solitude. Nevertheless, facts everyday belie their conjectures; the
hearts of Christians still preserve the most flattering hopes, and these hopes are
strengthened and animated more and more. The hand of God, who carries out
His high designs and laughs at the vain thoughts of man, shows it more and
more wonderful. Philosophy sees a wide field for meditation open before it; it
anticipates the probable future of religious communities; it may make conjec
tures on the influence which is reserved for them in society for the future.

We have already seen what is the real origin of religious institutions ; we
have found that origin in the spirit of the Catholic religion, and history has told

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 27ft

as that they have arisen wherever she is established. They have varied in form,
in rule, in object, but the fact has been always the same. Thence we have
inferi ed that wherever the Catholic faith shall be maintained, religious institu
tions will appear anew under some form or other. This prognostic may ba
made with complete certainty ; we do not fear that time will belie it. We live
in an age steeped in voluptuous materialism ; interests which are called positive,
or, in plainer terms, gold and pleasure, have acquired such an ascendency that
we might apparently fear to see some societies lamentably retrograde towards
the manners of paganism, towards that period of disgrace when religion might
be summed up in the deification of matter. But in the midst of this afflicting
picture, when the mind, full of anguish, feels itself on the point of swooning
away, the observer sees that the soul of man is not yet dead, and that lofty
ideas, noble and dignified feelings, are not entirely banished from the earth.
The human mind feels itself too great to be limited to wretched objects ; it
comprehends that it is given it to rise higher than an air-balloon.

Observe what happens with respect to industrial progress. Those steam-
vessels which leave our ports with the rapidity of an arrow to traverse the
immensity of ocean, those burning vehicles which skim along our plains, and
penetrate into the heart of mountains, realizing under our eyes what would
have seemed a dream to our fathers ; those other machines which give move
ment to gigantic workshops, and as if by magic set in motion innumerable
instruments, and elaborate with the most wonderful precision the most delicate
productions : all this is great and wonderful. But however great, however
wonderful it may be, it no longer astonishes ; these wonders no longer capti
vate our attention in a more lively manner than the generality of the objects
which surround us. Man feels that he is still greater than these machines and
masterpieces of art ; his heart is an abyss which nothing can fill ; give him the
whole world, and the void will be the same. The depth is immeasurable ; the
soul, created in the image and likeness of Grod, cannot be satisfied without the
possession of Him.

The Catholic religion constantly revives these lofty thoughts, and points out
this immense void. In barbarous times she placed herself among rude and
ignorant nations to lead them to civilization ; she now remains among civilized
nations to provide against the dissolution which threatens them. She disregards
the coldness and neglect with which indifference and ingratitude reply to her;
she cries out without ceasing, addresses her warnings to the faithful with inde
fatigable constancy, makes her voice resound in the ears of the incredulous, and
remains intact and immovable in the midst of the agitation and instability of
human things. Thus do those wonderful temples which have been left to us
by the remotest antiquity, remain entire amid the action of time, of revolu
tions, and of convulsions ; around them arise and disappear the habitations of
men, the palaces of the great and the cottages of the poor, but the time-stained
edifice stands like a solemn and mysterious object in the midst of the smiling
fields and showy structures which surround it ; its vast cupola annihilates all
that is near ; its summit boldly rises towards the heavens. .

The labors of religion do not remain without fruit; penetrating minds
acknowledge her truths ; even those who refuse their submission to the faith
confess the beauty, utility, and necessity of this divine religion ; they regard it
as an historical fact of the highest importance, and agree that the good order
and prosperity of families and states depend upon it. But Grod, who watches
over the safety of the church, is not content with these avowals of philosophy;
torrents of all powerful grace descend from on high, and the Divine Spirit is
diffused and renewed on the face of the earth. Even from the whirlwind of the
world, 3orrupt and indifferent as it is, privileged men frequently 30ine forth,
whose "oreheads have been touched with the flame of inspiration, and whoen

276 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

heartj are on fire with heavenly love. In retreat, in solitude, in meditation 01
the eternal truths, they have acquired that disposition of mind which is neces-
sary to perform arduous tasks; in spite of raillery and ingratitude, they devote
themselves; to console the unfortunate, to educate the young, and to convert
idolatrous nations. The Catholic religion will last till the end of time, and sc
long will there be these privileged men separated by God from the rest, to be
called to extraordinary sanctity, or to console their brethren in their misfor
tunes. Now these men will seek each other, will unite to pray, will associate
to aid each other in their enterprise, will ask for the apostolical benediction of
the Vicar of Jesus Christ, and will found religious institutions. Whether they
be old orders only modified, or entirely new ones ; whatever be their forms,
rules of life or dress, all this is of little importance ; the origin, the nature,.
and the object will be the same. It is vain for men to oppose the miracles of
grace.

Even the present condition of society will require the existence of religious
institutions. When the organization of modern nations shall have been more
profoundly examined, when time by its bitter lessons and terrible experience
shall have thrown more light on the real state of things, it will be evident that
errors greater than men have imagined, have been committed in the social as
well as in the political order. Sad experience has corrected ideas to a great
extent, but this does not suffice.

It is evident that present societies want the necessary means to supply the
necessities which press upon them. Property is divided and subdivided more
and more ; every day it becomes more feeble and inconstant, industry multiplies
productions in an alarming manner, commerce extends itself indefinitely; that
is to say, society, approaching the term of pretended social perfection, is on the
point of attaining the wishes of that materialistic school, in whose eyes men are
only machines, and which has not imagined that society can undertake any
grander or more useful object than the immense development of material
interests. Misery has increased in proportion to the augmentation of produc
tion ; to the eyes of all provident men it is as clear as the light of day that
things are pursuing a wrong course, and that if a remedy cannot be applied in
time, the denouement will be fatal; the vessel which we see advancing so
rapidly, with all her sails set and a favorable wind, is about to strike upon a
rock. The accumulation of riches, brought about by the rapidity of the indus
trial and commercial movement, tends towards the establishment of a system
which would devote the sweat and the lives of all to the profit of the few ; but
this adency finds its counterpoise in levelling ideas which agitate very many
heads, and which, moulded into different theories, more or less openly attadk
property, the present organization of labor, and the distribution of productions.
Immense multitudes, overwhelmed with misery and in want of moral instruc
tion and education, are disposed to promote the realization of projects not less
criminal than foolish, whenever an unhappy concurrence of circumstances shall
render the attempt possible. It is superfluous to support the melancholy asser
tions which we have just made with facts; the experience of every day confirms
them but too much.

Such being the case, may we be allowed to inquire of society, what means
there are, either of improving the state of the masses, or of guiding and restrain
ing them ? It is clear that, for the first of these, neither the inspirations of
private interests, nor the instinct of preservation which animates the favored
classes, are sufficient These classes, properly speaking, as they exist, have not
the character which constitutes a class : they are only a collection of families
just emerged from poverty and obscurity, and who rapidly advance towardi
the abyss whence they came, leaving their place to o'iher families who will run
the same course. We find nothing fixed or stable about them. They liye

I ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. '277

from day to day, without thinking of the morrow : far different fiom the old
nobility, whose origin was lost in the obscurity of the remotest antiquity, and
whose strength and organization promised long centuries of existence These
men could and did follow a system; for what existed to-day was sure of existence
to-morrow ; now all is changeable and inconstant. Individuals, like families,
labor to accumulate, to lay by riches, not in order to sustain for ages the power
and splendor of an illustrious house, but to enjoy to-day what has been but just
acquired. The presentiment of the short duration which things must have,
augments still more the giddiness and frenzy of dissipation. The times are
past when opulent families were desirous of founding some enduring establish
ment to evince their generosity and perpetuate the splendor of their names :
hospitals, and other houses of beneficence, do not come from the coffers of the
bankers, as they did from those of the old castles. We must acknowledge,
however painful may be the avowal, thai the opulent classes of society do not
fulfil the duty which belongs to them : the poor should respect the property of
the rich; but the rich should, in their turn, respect the condition of the poor:
such is the will of God.

It follows from what I have stated, that the resource of beneficence is want
ing in the social organization ; and observe well, that administration does not
constitute society. Administration supposes society to be already existing and
entirely formed ; when we expect the salvation of society from means purely
administrative, we attempt a thing which is out of the laws of nature. In vain
shall we imagine new expedients; in vain shall we form ingenious plans, and
make new experiments; society has need of a more powerful agent. It is
essential that the world should submit to the law of love or that of force, to
sharity or servitude. All the nations who have not had charity, have found no
other means of solving the social problem, than that of subjecting the greatest
number to slavery. Ileason teaches, and history proves, that neither public
order, property, nor even society itself, can exist, unless one of these is chosen;
modern society will not be exempted from the general law; the symptoms which
now present themselves to our eyes clearly indicate the events whereof the
generations which are to succeed us will be the witnesses.

Happily, the fire of charity still burns on the earth ; but the indifference and
prejudices of the wicked compel it to remain under the embers. They are
alarmed at the least spark of it which escapes, as if it would enkindle a fatal
conflagration. If the development of institutions which are exclusively based
upon the principle of charity was favored, their salutary results and the supe
riority which they possess over all that are founded on other principles would
soon be evident. It is impossible to supply the wants which I have just pointed
out, without organizing, on a vast scale, systems of beneficence directed by
charity : now this organization cannot be made without religious institutions.
It cannot be denied that Christians who live in the world may form associations
by which this object will be accomplished more or less completely; but there
are always a multitude of cases which absolutely require the co-operation of men
exclusively devoted to them. It is necessary, moreover, to have a nucleus to
serve as the centre of all efforts, which presents, by its own nature, a guarantee
for preservation, and which provides against the interruptions and oscillations
which are inevitable in a large concourse of agents, who are not bound together
by any tie strong enough to preserve them from differences, from separation,
and even from intestine contests.

This vast system which we speak of ought to extend not only to beneficence,
but also to the education and instruction of the many. The establishment of
schools will remain sterile, if not mischievous, as long as they are not founded
upon religion ; and they will be thus founded only in appearance and name,
while the direction of these schools does not belong to the ministers of religion

Y

278 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

The secular clergy may fulfil a portion of this charge, but they are not enough
for the task ; on the one hand, their limited number, and on the other, thjii
other duties, prevent their acting on a scale sufficiently large to supply all the
necessities of the times : hence it follows, that the propagation of religious insti
tutions in our days has a social importance, which cannot be mistaken without
shutting one's eyes to the evidence of facts.

If you reflect on the organization of European nations, you will understand
Ahat their real advance has been prevented by some fatal cause. Indeed, their
situation is so singular, that it cannot be the result of the principles whence these
nations have drawn their origin, and which have given them their increase. It
is evident that the countless multitude which one sees in society, making use of
all its faculties with complete liberty, could not, in the state in which it now is,
have been comprised in the primitive design — in the plan of true civilization.
When we create forces, we should know what we shall do with them, by what
means we shall move and direct them ; without this we only prepare violent
shocks, endless agitation, disorder, and destruction. The mechanician who can
not introduce a force into his machine without breaking the harmony of the other
movers, takes care not to introduce it; and he sacrifices acceleration of move
ment and the greatest strength of impulse to the fundamental necessity of the
preservation of the machine and the order and utility of its functions. In the
present state of society, we observe that power which is not in harmony with
the others ; and the men who are charged with directing the machine pay but
little attention to gaining the required harmony. Nothing acts upon the mass
of the people but the ardent desire of ameliorating their condition, of placing
themselves in comfort, and of obtaining the enjoyments of which the rich are
in possession ; nothing to induce them to be resigned to the rigors of their lot ;
nothing to console them in their misfortunes ; nothing to render the present evils
more supportable by the hopes of a better future; nothing to inspire them with
respect for property, obedience to the laws, submission to government ; nothing
to produce in their minds gratitude towards the powerful classes ; nothing to
temper their hatreds, diminish their envy, and mollify their anger; nothing tc
raise their ideas above earthly things, their desires from sensual pleasures
nothing to form in their hearts a solid morality capable of restraining them fron
vice and crime.

If we pay attention, we shall see that the men of this age have only three
means of restraining the masses, and they regard these as enough ; but reason
and experience show that these expedients are not only not efficacious, but even
dangerous; they are these, — private interests well understood, public force well
employed, and enervation of body, followed by feebleness of mind, which restrains
the populace from violent means.

"Let us make the poor man understand," says the philosopher, " that he has
an interest in respecting the property of the rich ; that his powers and his labor
are also real property, which require to be respected in their turn ; let us main
tain an imposing public force, always ready to act on the menaced point, in order
to stifle any attempts at disorder at their birth ; let us organize a police, extend
ing over society like an immense net, and allowing nothing to escape its sight;
let us satisfy the people with cheap enjoyments of all kinds ; let us furnish them
with the means of imitating, in their grosser orgies, the refined pleasures of our
saloons and theatres, thereby their manners will be softened — that is to say, they
will b-3 enarvated ; the people will become impotent to make great revolutions,
their arms being weak, and their hearts cowardly." This is the sytem of those
who attempt to govern society and control disturbing passions without the aid
cf religion.

Let us pause for a moment to examine these means. It is, no doubt, easy tc
nay^ in fine language, that the poor man is interested in respecting the property

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. '279

of the rich ; and that from this consideration alone he ought to submit to the
established order of things ; and this without even saying a word of the prin
ciples of morality, and leaving out all that is removed from mere material inte
rests. It is easy to write books to explain such doctrines; but the difficulty
consists in making them understood in the same way by the wretched father of
a family, who, confined all the day to hard labor, plunged into an unwholesome
atmosphere, or buried in the bowels of the earth to work in a coal-mine, can
scarcely earn the subsistence of himself and his family ; and who, returning in
the evening to his squalid abode, instead of repose and consolation, finds only
the complaints of his wife and the tears of his children, asking him for a mouth
ful of bread. In truth, is it strange that such a doctrine should not be graciously
received by those wretched beings, whose minds cannot perfectly understand
the parity between the poor and the rich with respect to the interests of all,
and the respect due to property ? We will say plainly, that if you banish from
the world the moral principles, and desire to found the respect due to property
exclusively on private interest, the words here addressed to the poor man are
only a solemn imposture : it is false that his private interest is in accordance
with the interests of the rich.

Let us suppose the most fearful revolution, let us imagine that the established
order is radically upset, that authority gives way, that all institutions are swal
lowed up, that laws disappear, that properties are divided, or remain abandoned
to the first who shall seize them, there is no doubt that the rich man loses; let
us see what can happen to the poor: Will he be robbed of his wretched pos
sessions ? no one will dream of doing so ; misery tempts not cupidity. You will
tell me that he will find no work, and that hunger will therefore be his lot. Thai
is true; but do you not see that in this case the poor man is a gambler at a high
stake, for whom the chance of loss, arising from the want of work, is compen
sated by the probabilities of obtaining a share of the rich booty ? You add that
he will not be allowed to keep that part; but observe that, if his poverty becomes
changed into riches, he will soon imagine a new order of things, a new arrange
ment, a government which will guarantee acquired rights, and prevent the
destruction of established things. Will he be without an example to follow in
such. circumstances ? Have recent examples been so easily forgotten? The poor
man sees clearly that a great number of his fellows will suffer evils without end
or compensation; he is not ignorant that he himself may, perhaps, be of the
number of the unfortunate ; but, supposing that he has no other guide than
interest, supposing that new misfortunes, in the last excess, can bring him only
hunger and nakedness — things to which he is so well accustomed, whether owing
to the small return for his labor, or to the frequent interruptions of work and
the vicissitudes of industry — you cannot charge with rashness the boldness with
which he comes ibrward, at the risk of increasing his privations in some degree,
and with the hope of being delivered from them, perhaps for ever. This is a
matter of calculation ; and when private interest is in question, we cannot grant
to philosophy thp right of regulating the calculations of the poor.

The public power, and the vigilance of the police, are the two resources in
which the best hopes are founded ; and certainly not without reason ; for, at the
present time, if the world is not revolutionized, it is owing to them. We no
longer see, as in ancient times, tro >ps of slaves bound together with chains, but we
see whole armies, with arms in their hands, guarding capitals. If you observe
closely, after so many discussions, so many trials, so many reforms, so many
changes, questions of government and public order have, in the end, resolved them
selves into questions of force. The rich class is armed against the poor; and
above both, there are armies to maintain tranquillity with cannon^ if necessary.
Assuredly, the picture which is exhibited to us in this respect, among modern
nations, is worthy of our attention. Since the fall of Napoleon, the great poweri

280 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

have enjoyed an Augustan peace; for it is not wonh while to speak of the smaL
events which, from time to time, have disturbed this universal peace; neithei
the occupation of Ancona, nor the siege of Antwerp, nor the war in Poland, can
be considered as European wars; as to Spain, limited, as she is by nature, to a
narrow theatre, she can neither traverse the seas, nor pass the Pyrenean moun
tains. Well, in spite of this, the statistics of Europe show us enormous armies;
the budgets which are necessary to support them exhaust and overwhelm the
nations. What is the use of this military preparation? Do you believe (tat
such gigantic forces are kept on foot only that governments may not be taken
unawares by a general war; that war, which always threatens and never breaka
out ; that war, which is feared neither by the government nor by the people ?
No! they have another object : these armies are intended to compensate for the
moral means, the want of which is deplorably felt on all sides, and nowhere more
keenly than where the words justice and liberty have been proclaimed with the
most ostentation.

The enervation of the numerous classes, by means of monotonous, effortless
labor, and a complete abandonment to pleasure, may be Considered by some aa
an element of order; as their power of striking is thereby taken away, or at
least diminished. We allow that the workmen of our age are not capable of
displaying the terrible energy of ancient champions of the Commons ; of those
men who, throwing off the yoke of the feudal lords, struggled -hand to hand
with formidable warriors, whose names were immortalized on the plains of Pales
tine. The new revolutionists want, also, that courage and that enthusiasm which
are communicated to the soul by great and generous ideas. The man who
fights only to procure enjoyments will never be capable of making heroic sacri
fices. Sacrifices demand self-denial ; they are incompatible with egotism : now
the thirst for pleasure is egotism, carried to the last degree of refinement.
Nevertheless, it must be observed that a mode of life purely material, and
deprived of the stimulus of the moral principles, ends by extinguishing the
feelings, and plunges the soul into a sort of stupidity, into a forgetfulness of
self, which may, in certain cases, supply the place of valor. The soldier whc
marches with tranquillity to death, when leaving a brutal orgic, and the man
who commits suicide with imperturbable calmness, without anxiety for the future,
are precisely in the same position. The boldness of the one, and the firmnes?
of the other, show contempt of life. So, if we suppose their passions to be
excited by the trouble of the times, the numerous class may display an energy
)f which they are supposed to be incapable ; the sight of their numbers may
raise their courage ; bold and cunning leaders, putting themselves at their head,
may succeed in rendering them terrible.

However this may be, it is at least certain that society cannot continue its
career without the aid and influence of moral means ; these means cannot suffice,
shut up within the narrow circle in which they are confined ; consequently, it
is indispensable to encourage the development of institutions adapted to exercise
moral influence in a practical and efficacious manner. Books are not enough ;
the extension of instruction is but an inefficient means, which may even become
fatal, unless based upon solid religious ideas. The propagation of a vague reli
gious feeling, undefined, without rules, without dogmas or worship, will only
serve to propagate gross superstitions among the masses, and to form a religion
of poetry and romance among the cultivated classes ; they are vain remedies,
which do not stop the progress of the disease ; but, by augmenting the delirium
of the patient, precipitate his death.

The education, the instruction, the improvement of the moral condition of the
people, these words, which are in the mouth of everybody, prove how keenly
and generally the wound in the social body is felt, and how urgent is the necos-
wty of the timely application of a remedy, in order to prevent incalculable evils

IROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY "c 1

This is the reason why projects of beneficence ferment in so many minds ; why
it is attempted, under so many different forms, to establish schools for children
and adults, and other similar institutions; but all will be useless, unless the
work be confided to Christian charity. Let us profit by the knowledge acquired
by experience in this matter; let us take advantage of administrative improve
ments, the better to attain our end ; let the establishments be accommodated to
present wants and exigences ; let charity never embarrass the action of power,
md power, on its side, never oppose the action of charity : all this will be well ;
but nothing of all this is inconsistent with a system, in which the Catholic
religion will recover the influence which belongs to her; of her it may be said,
with perfect truth, that she makes herself all to all, to yam the whole worl<l.

The little minds which do not carry their views beyond a limited horizon ;
bad hearts, which nourish only hatred, and delight only in exciting rancor and
in calling forth the evil passions ; the fanatics of a mechanical civilization, who
see no other agent than steam, no other power than gold and silver, no other
object than production, no other end than pleasure; all these men, assuredly,
will attach but little importance to the observations which I have made ; for
thoui, the moral development of individuals and society is of little importance;
they do not even perceive what passes under their eyes ; for them, history is
mute, experience barren, and the future a mere nothing. Happily there is a
great number of men who believe that their minds are nobler than metal, more
powerful than steam, and too grand and too sublime to be satisfied with momen
tary pleasure.

Man, in their eyes, is not a being who lives by chance, given up to the cur
rent of time and the mercy of circumstances, who is not called upon to think of
the destinies which attend him, or to prepare for them, by making a worthy use
jf the moral and intellectual qualifications wherewith the Author of nature has
favored him. If the physical world is subject to the laws of the Creator, the
moral world is not less so ; if matter can be used in a thousand ways for the
profit of man, the mind, created to the image and likeness of God, is also
endowed with valuable powers ; a vast sphere opens before him ; he feels him
self called to work for the good of humanity, without confining himself to combi
nations and modifications of matter, like an instrument or a slave of the material
element, whereof the empire and control have been granted to him by God.
Let faith in another life, and charity, which have come down from God, fertilize
these noble feelings, and enlighten and direct these sublime thoughts ; you will
then clearly see that matter has no claim to be the ruler of the world ; and that
the King of the creation has not yet abdicated his rights. But if you attempt
to build on any other foundation than that which has been established by God,
do not indulge flattering hopes, your edifice will be like the house built upon
sand ; the rain came, the wind blew, and the edifice was overturned with
violence. (27)

CHAPTER XLVIII.

RELIGION AND LIBERTY.

IN the thirteenth chapter of this work we said, " The heart is filled with
generous indignation when we hear the religion of Jesus Christ reproached with
a tendency towards oppression. It is true, that if we confound the spirit of
real liberty with that of demagogues, we shall not find it in Catholicity. But if
we abstain from a monstrous abuse of the name, if we give to the word liberty
its reasonable, just, useful, and pleasant meaning, then the Catholic religion may
fearlessly claim the gratitude of the human race, for she has civilized the nations

28*2 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

who have professed her, and civilization is true liberty." From what we har j
already shown, the reader may judge whether Catholicity has been favorable, or
otherwise, to European civilization, and, consequently, whether she has done
any injury to real liberty. On the various points on which we have compared
her with Protestantism, we have seen the injurious tendencies of the one and
the advantages of the other; the judgment of clear and enlightened reason
cannot be doubtful.

As the real liberty of nations does not consist in appearances, but resides in
their intimate organization, in the same wuy as the life does in the heart, I might
dispense with entering into a comparison of the two religions with respect tc
civil liberty; but I do not wish to be accused of having avoided a delicate
question, from a fear that Catholicity would not come out of it with honor, or to
allow it to be suspected that my faith has any difficulty in sustaining a parallel
as advantageously on this ground as on others.

In order to clear up this question completely, it is necessary to examine
thoroughly the vague accusations which have been made on this matter against
Catholicity, and the eulogiunis lavished on the pretended Reformation. It is
necessary to show that only gratuitous calumny has been able to reproach the
Catholic religion with favoring servitude and oppression ; it is necessary to dissi
pate, by the light of philosophy and history, that deceitful prejudice, by the aid
of which free-thinkers and Protestants have labored to persuade the people that
Catholicity is favorable to servitude, that the Church is the bulwark of tyrants,
that the name of Pope is synonymous with that of friend and natural protector
of whoever desires to debase men and reduce them to servitude.

There are two ways in which this question may be decided ; by doctrines and
by facts.

Those who have said that the human race had lost its rights, and that they
were revived by Rousseau, certainly have not given themselves much trouble
in examining what are the real rights of the human race, and what are the
apocryphal rights advanced by the philosopher of Geneva in his Contrat Social.
Indeed, it may be said with more truth, that the human race had very valuable
rights, acknowledged as such, and which Rousseau lost sight of. He under
took to examine thoroughly the origin of the civil power, and his wild notions,
instead of explaining the matter, have only served to confuse it. I believe that
on this important point men have never had ideas less clear and distinct than
now. Revolutions have upset every thing in theory and in fact ; governments
have been sometimes revolutionary, sometimes reactionary ; and sometimes
revolution, and sometimes reaction, has been predominant. It is extremely
difficult to obtain from modern books a clear, accurate, and exact knowledge of
the nature of the civil power, of its origin, and of its relations with subjects ;
in some of these you will find the doctrines of Rousseau, in others those of
Bonald : Rousseau is a miner who saps in order to overturn ; Bonald is the
hero who saves in his arms the tutelary deities of the city delivered to the
flames; but in his fear of profanation, he carries them covered with a veil
However, it would not be just to attribute to Rousseau the melancholy honor
of having begun the confusion of ideas on this point; at various times there
have been found misguided men, who have labored to disturb society by anar
chical doctrines ; out the embodiment of these doctrines, and the forming of
them into seductive theories, dates chiefly from the birth of Protestantism.
Luther, in his book De Lilertate Christiana, sowed the seeds of endless troubles
by the extravagant doctrine, that a Christian is subject to no one. In vain did
he have recourse to the evasive declaration, that he did not speak of magistrates
or civil laws ; the peasants of Germany drew their own consequences ; they rose
up against their lords, and enkindled a dreadful war. The divine right held by
OatlHics has been accused of favoring def x>tism; and it has been considered

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 283

as so much jpposed to the rights of the people, that the two expressions are
often antithetically employed. Divine right, well understood, is not opposed to
the rights, but to the excesses of the people ; so far from giving unlimited
extent to power, it confines it within the limits of reason, justice, &nd public
advantage. In his lectures on the general history of civilization in Europe, M.
G-uizot, speaking of this right as proclaimed by the Church, says : <l The rights-
of liberty and political guarantees are combined with difficulty with the prin
ciple of religious royalty ; but that principle in itself is elevated, moral, and
salutary." (Lecture ix.) When men like M. Guizot, who have made these
questions their special study, are so lamentably deceived on this point, who can
be astonished that the same thing occurs to the generality of writers !

Before I go further, I will make one observation, which we ought always to
have present to our minds. On these questions we continually hear mention
made of the schools of Bossuet and of Bonald ; private names are put forward,
sometimes in one way and sometimes in another. Much as I respect the merits
of these men, and of others not less illustrious produced by the Catholic Church,
yet I must observe that she is not responsible for any doctrines but those which
she herself teaches ; that she is not personified in any doctor in particular ; and
that being herself appointed by God himself to be the oracle of infallible truth
in faith and morality, she does not permit the faithful to defer blindly to the
mere word of any private man, however great may be his merit in science and
in sanctity. If you wish to know what the Catholic Church teaches, consult
the decisions of her Councils and her Pontiffs ;' consult also her doctors of dis
tinguished and unsullied reputation ; but beware of confounding the opinions of
an author, however respectable he may be, with the doctrines of the Church
and the voice of the Vicar of Jesus Christ. By this warning I do not mean to
prematurely condemn the opinions of any one, but simply to put those on their
guard who, little versed in ecclesiastical studies, might, in certain cases, confound
revealed dogmas with what is mere human thought. Having premised this
much, let us enter freely into the question.

Wherein does this divine right, of which we hear so much, consist?
to explain this matter completely, we must state the objects over which this right
extends; for these objects being widely different, there will also be a great differ
ence in the application made to them of the principle. A great number of ques
tions present themselves in this very important matter; but it appears to me that
the\ may all be reduced to these, which embrace the rest, viz. What is the origin
of the civil power ? How far does it extend ? Is it lawful to resist it in any case F
The first question is, What is the origin of the 'civil power? How do we know
that this power is from God? There is much confusion prevailing on these
points; and certainly it is to be lamented, that at a time so disturbed ^ as the
present they should be misunderstood ; for whatever may be said to the con
trary, doctrines are never wholly laid aside, either in revolutions or in restora
tions; men's interests, no doubt, have great weight therein, but they are not
left alone in the arena. The best way of forming clear ideas on these points is
tc have recourse to ancient authors, especially those whose doctrines have been
respected for a long period of time, who continue to be respected down to thia
dav, and who are looked upon as safe guides in the right interpretation of eccle
siastical doctrines. This way of studying the question which now occupies ua
ought to be acceptable to those even who entertain contempt for the writers of
whom we speak ; for we are now engaged more in seeking in what the doctrine
consists, than in examining into its truth. Now for this purpose we cannot
End witnesses better informed, or interpreters more competent, than men who
have devoted their whole lives to the study of the doctrine.

This last reflection is in no way contradictory to what we jave^said above
on the care which we ought to take not to confound the mere opinions of me»

284 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

with the doctrines of the Church; it only tends to remind us of the necessjtj
whio.i exists of perusing a certain class of authors, who are certainly not wor
thy of the ungrateful neglect with which they are treated , indeed, it is impos
sible that their important labors, conscientiously pursued for so long a time,
should produce no fruit. In order to understand the better the opinion of these
writers on the matter which now occupies us, we ought to observe the difference
whinh they make in the application of the general principle of divine right to
the origin of the civil or to that of the ecclesiastical power. From this compa
rison there arises a bright light, which resolves and clears up all difficulties.
Open the works of the most distinguished theologians, consult their treatises on
the origin of the power of the Pope, and you will see that in establishing this
power on divine right, they mean that it emanates from God, not only in a
general sense, that is, inasmuch as all being comes from God ; not only in a
social sense, that is, inasmuch as the Church being a society, God has willed
the existence of a power to govern it ; but in a most special manner that God
has Himself instituted this power, that He has Himself established its form,
that He has Himself pointed out the person, and that consequently the successor
to the chair of St. Peter is of divine right the supreme pastor of the universal
Church, having over the whole of this Church supreme honor and jurisdiction.

With respect to the civil power, these authors speak thus. In the first place,
all power comes from God; for power exists, and all existence comes from God;
power is sovereignty, and God is the lord, the supreme master of all things ;
power is a right, and in God is found the source of all right ; power is a moral
movement, and God is the universal cause of all sorts of movements ; power
tends towards an exalted end, and God is the end of all creatures ; His Provi
dence ordains and directs all things with mercy and efficacy. Thus we see that
St. Thomas, in his work De Regimine Principum, affirms that all power comes
from God as supreme master, as may be shown in three vvays : as it is a being,
as it is a mover, and as it is an end. (Lib. 3, cap. 1.)

As I am treating of this method of explaining the origin of power, I must
pause for a moment to refute Rousseau, who, in the allusion which he made to
this doctrine, showed that he did not understand it. He says, " All power comes
from God, I allow ; but all diseases also come from Him. Are we, therefore,
to say that it is forbidden to call in a physician?" (Cmitrat Social, liv. i. c. 3.)
It is true that one of the senses in which the divine origin of power is affirmed
is, that all finite beings emanate from an infinite being ; but this sense is not
the only one. Indeed, theologians knew very well that this idea, by itself, did
not imply its legitimacy, and that it extended as well to physical force ; for ae
the author of the Contrat Social adds : " the pistol held by a robber in a wood
is also a power." Rousseau, in this passage, has sacrificed the sense to show
his ingenuity ; the love of making a brilliant sally has seduced him into remov
ing the question from its proper ground. Et was easy, indeed, to see that, with
respect to the civil power, men do not speak of a physical, but of a moral, a
legitimate power ; in any other way it would be in vain to seek for its origin :
as well might they seek the source of riches, health, strength, courage, subtilty,
or the other qualities which contribute to form the material force of all power.
The question is with regard to the moral being which is called power; and
in the moral order, illegitimate power is not power, it is not a being, it is
nothing. Consequently, there is no need of seeking its origin in God, or in
any thing else. Therefore, power emanates from God as the source of all right,
justice, and legitimacy; and in considering power, not as a mere physical, but
as a moral being, it is affirmed that it can come from God alone, who is the
plenitude of all being. Not only is this doctrine, taken generally, above all
difficulty, but it must be admitted by all who do not profess themselves atheists;
they alone can call it in question. Let us now descend to particulars, and sco

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 2^1

vrheSier Catholic doctors teach any thing which is not perfectly reasonable iven
•n the eyes of philosophers.

Man, they say, was not created to live alone; his existence supposes a family;
his inclinations urge him to form an alliance, without which the human race
could not be perpetuated. Families are connected with each other by intimate
and indestructible ties ; they have common wants j none can insure happiness,
or even preservation, without the aid of others. Therefore they are bound tc
enter into society. Society cannot exist without order, or order without justice;
and both require a guardian, an interpreter, an executor. This is the civil
power God, who created man, and willed also his preservation, consequently
willed the existence of society, and the power which it requires. Now the
existence of the civil power is as conformable to the will of God as the existence
of the paternal ; if families have need of the paternal, society has no less need
of the civil power. Our Lord has condescended to secure us from mistakes on
this important point by telling us in the Scriptures, that all power emanates
from Him, that we are obliged to obey it, that whoever resists it resists the
Divine command. I seek in vain for an objection to this way of explaining the
origin of society, and of the power which governs it. This doctrine preserves
natural, human, and divine right; all these rights are connected, and support
each other. The sublimity of the theory rivals its simplicity; revelation sane
tions what was shown by the light of reason, and grace fortifies nature. Such,
then, is the famous divine right, presented as a bugbear to the ignorant and
unsuspecting, in order to make them believe that the Catholic Church, when
she teaches the obligation of obeying the legitimate power, and founds this obli
gation on the law of God, proposes a dogma injurious to true human liberty.

To hear some men ridicule the divine right of kings, one would say that we
Catholics believed that certain individuals and families have received bulls of
institution from Heaven, and that we are grossly ignorant of the history of the
changes of the civil power. If they had examined the matter more deeply, they
would have found that, far from being liable to the reproach of such folly, wo
have only established a principle the necessity of which was acknowledged by
all the legislators of antiquity, and that our belief is quite reconcilable with true
philosophical doctrines and the events recorded by history. In support of what
I have said, see with what admirable clearness St. Chrysostom explains this
point in his 23d homily on the Epistle to the Romans : " There is no power
that does not come from God." What do you say ? Is every prince, then,
appointed by God ? I do not say that; for I do not speak of any prince in
particular, but of the thing itself, that is, of the power itself : I affirm that the
existence of principalities is the work of the diviue wisdom, and that to it it is
owing that all things are not given up to blind chance. Therefore it is that the
Apostle does not say, " That there is no prince who does not come from God ;"
but he says, speaking of the thing in itself, "There is no power which does not
come from God." " Non est potestas, nisi a Deo. Quid dicis ? Ergo omnis
princeps a Deo cpnstitutus ? Istud non dico. Non enim de quovis priucipe
mihi sermo est, sed de re ipsa, id est de ipsa potestate. Quod enim principatua
fiint, quodque non simpliciter et temere cuncta ferantur, divinae sapientiae opus
esse dico. Propterea uon dicit : non eiiim princeps est nisi a Deo. Sed de re
ipsa disserit dicens : non est potestas nisi a Deo/' (Hum. 23, in Epi&t. ad Rom,}
It appears, from the words of St. John Chrysostom, that the meaning of divine
right, according to Catholics, is, that there exists a power for the gr -eminent
of society, and that it is not abandoned to the mercy of passion and imagination.
This doctrine, which insures public order, by establishing the obligation of obe
dience on motives of conscience, does not descend to the inferior questions,
which do not affect the fundamental principle.

It may perhaps be objected, that if we admit the interpretation of St Joha

^SO PROTESTANTISM COMPARKD WITH CATHOLICITY.

Ghrvuostom, it was not necessary for the sacred text to teach that which reason
so clearly dictated. To this our. reply is two-fold : 1st, that the sacred Scripture
expressly prescribes to us several obligations which nature imposes on us inde
pendently of all divine right, as to honor parents, not to kill, not to rob, and
other things of the kind ; 2d, that in the present case the Apostles had very
good reason to recommend particularly obedience to legitimate power, and tc
sanction in a clear and conclusive manner this obligation, founded on the natural
law itself. Indeed, the same St. Chrysostom tells us, " that at that time a very
widely-spread opinion represented the Apostles as seditious men and innovators,
laboring by their speeches and acts to bring about the downfall of laws."
" Plurima tune temporis circumferebatur fama, traducens Apostolos veluti sedi-
tiosos rerumque novatores ; qui omnia ad evertendum leges communes et face-
rent et dicerent." (Horn.- 23, in Epist. ad Tim.}

It was no doubt to this that St. Paul alluded when, admonishing the faithful
of the obligation of obeying authority, he told them that " such was the will of
God, that by acting thus they might put to silence the imprudence of foolish
men." (Epist. i. c. 2.) We also know from St. Jerome, that in the beginning
of the Church, some, hearing the Gospel liberty preached, imagined that uni
versal liberty also was meant. The necessity of inculcating a duty, the fulfil
ment of which is indispensable for the preservation of society, will be clearly
perceived if we consider with what ease an error so nattering to proud and rebel
lious minds might take root. After fourteen centuries had passed away, we see
the error reproduced in the time of Wickliff and John Huss. The Anabaptists
made a dreadful application of it when they inundated Germany with blood.
At a later period, the fanatical sectaries of England raised the greatest disorders
and brought about fearful catastrophes by a similar doctrine, condemning alike
the civil and ecclesiastical power.

The religion of Jesus Christ, the law of peace and love, when preaching
liberty, spoke of that liberty which draws us from the slavery of sin and the
power of the deviL renders us co-heirs of Jesus Christ, and participators of
grace and glory. But she was very far from propagating doctrines which could
favor disorder, or subvert law and authority. It was, then, of the greatest im
portance to her to disprove the calumnies by which her enemies attempted to
injure her; it was necessary for her to proclaim, by her words and acts, that
the public interest had nothing to fear from her doctrines. We also see that
after the Apostles had inculcated this sacred obligation on several occasions, the
Fathers of the earliest times insist again and frequently on the same point. St
Poly carp, quoted by Eusebius, (lib. iv. Hist. cap. 15,) says, when speaking to
the proconsul : " It is ordained to render to the magistrates and powers ap
pointed by God the honor which we owe them." St. Justin, in his Apology
for the Christians, also recalls the precept of Jesus Christ touching the pay
ment of tributes : Tertullian, in his Apology y chapter third, reproaches the
Gentiles with the persecution they directed against the Christians, even at the
time when the latter, with their hands raised to heaven, were praying for the
safety of the emperors. The zeal of the saints who were charged with the
instruction and direction of the faithful succeeded in inculcating this precept so
well, that the Christians were everywhere a model of submission and obedience
Thus Pliny, writing to the Emperor Trajan, avowed that, religion excepted, he
could not accuse them of being at all wanting in the fulfilment of the laws and
imperial edicts.

Nature herself has pointed out the persons in whom resides the paternal
power; the wants of the family mark the limits of this power; the feelings of
the heart prescribe its object and regulate its conduct. In society it is other
wise : the rights of the civil power are tossed about by the storms of human
events ; here this right resides in one person, there in several ; to-day it belong?

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 2^1

to one family, to-morrow to another ; one day it is exercised under one form,
the next under another very different. The infant who weeps at his mother's
bosom reminds her of the obligation of nourishing and watching over it; woman,
weak and unsupported, calls unmistakably on man to protect her and her child;
youth, without strength to sustain or knowledge to direct itself, shows parents
their obligation of care and guardianship. We see clearly the will of God ^ tho
order of nature forcibly expresses it; the tenderest feelings arc its echo and
interpreter; we do not require any thing else to show us what is the will of
God ; we do not need any refinement to convince us that the parental power is
from above. The rights and duties of parents and children are written in cha
racters as distinct as they are beautiful. But where shall we find, with respect
to the civil power, an expression as unequivocal ? If power comes from God,
by what means does he communicate it ? In what channel is it conveyed ?
This leads us to other secondary questions, which all conduce to the explanation
and solution of the principal question.

Was there ever a man who by natural right found himself invested with civil
power ? It is clear that in this case power would have no other origin than
paternal authority ; that is to say, in that case, the civil power ought to be con
sidered as an amplification of that authority, as a transformation of domestic
into civil power. We immediately see the difference between the domestic and
the social order, their separate objects, the diversity of rules by which they
must be regulated, and we see how different are the means which they both use
for their government. I do not deny that the type of society is found in the
family, and that society is in the most desirable condition when it most
resembles the family in command and in obedience; but mere analogies do not
suffice to establish rights, and it always remains indubitable that those of the
civil power must not be confounded with those of the paternal.

On the other hand, the nature of things shows that Providence, in ordaining
the destinies of the world, did not establish the paternal as the source of the
civil. Indeed, we do not see how such a power could have been transmitted,
and the legitimacy of its claims have been justified. We can easily understand
the limited rule of an old man, governing a society, composed of two or three
generations only, who were descended from him ; but as soon as this society
increased, extended to several countries, and consequently was divided and
subdivided, the patriarchal power must have disappeared, its exercise must have
become impossible, and we can no longer understand how the pretenders to the
throne could come to an understanding w.ith each other and the rest of the
people, to justify and legitimize their rule. The theory which acknowledges
the paternal as the origin of the civil power may be is promising as you please;
it may sustain itself on the example of the patriarchal government, which we
observe in the cradle of society; but there are two things against it. . First, it
asserts, but does not prove ; second, it has no means of attaining the end for
which it was intended, viz. the consolidation of government, for it cannot
establish itself by proving its legitimacy. The greatest of kings and the
humblest of subjects equally know that they are the sons of Noe; nothing more
I have not been able to find this theory either in St. Thomas, or in any of the
other principal theologians; and to go still higher, I do not know that it can
find any authority in the doctrines of the Fathers, in the tradition of the Church,
or in Scripture itself. It is consequently a mere philosophical opinion, of
which the explanation and proof belong to those who advance it. Catholicity
says nothing either for or against it.

It is then demonstrated that the civil power does not reside in any man of
natural right, and on the other hand, we know that power comes from God.
Who receives this power from God, and how does he receive it? It is necessary
first to observe, that the Catholic Church, while acknowledging the divine

288 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

drigin of the civil power, an origin which is expressly stated in Scripture, doe.
not define any thing either as to the form of this power, or the means whict
God employs in communicating it. So that after the Catholic doctrine is esta
blished, there still remains to be examined and discussed, who immediately
receives the power, and how it is transmitted ? This is acknowledged by theo
logians when they have treated of this matter; this should be enough to
remove the prejudices of those who consider the doctrine of the Church on this
point as conducive to popular degradation. The Church teaches the obligation
of obeying legitimate authority, and adds that the power which it exercises
emanates from God ; this doctrine is as applicable to republics as to absolute
monarchies, and does not prejudge either the forms of government or the par
ticular claims of legitimacy. As to these latter questions they cannot be
answered in general terms; they depend upon a variety of circumstances into
which the general principles which are the foundation of the good order and
f peace of society cannot enter. I think it is so important to give clear ideas on
this point, and to state the doctrines of the most distinguished Catholic divines,
that I consider it necessary to devote an entire chapter to this subject.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE ORIGIN OP SOCIETY, ACCORDING TO CATHOLIC DIVINES.

THERE is nothing more instructive or more interesting, than the study of
public law in those writers who, pretending not to pass for statesmen, and
entertaining no views of ambition, express themselves without flattery and with
out bitterness; and explain these matters with as much calmness and tran
quillity as they would theories of rare application and limited extent. At the
present time it is almost impossible to open a book without immediately per
ceiving to which of the two contending parties the author belongs; it seldom
happens that his ideas are not affected by passion, or adapted to serve particular
designs; and it not unfrequently happens that, without conviction, he speaks
according to the dictates of his interest.

It is not so with the old writers, of whom we are speaking. Let us render
them at least this justice ; that their opinions are conscientious, their language
loyal and sincere; and whatever may be the judgment with respect to them,
whether we consider them as real sages, or as ignorant men and fanatics, we
cannot call in question their sincerity; that they are animated by a religious
idea, that they develop a philosophical system, that their pens are the faithful
interpreters of their thoughts.

Rousseau attempts to seek the origin of society, and of the civil power ; and
oegins the first chapter of his work with these words: "Man is born free, and
he is everywhere in fetters." Do you not immediately perceive the tribune
under the mantle of the philosopher ? Do you not observe that, instead of
addressing himself to the reason, the writer appeals to the passions; and wounds
the most susceptible of them — viz. pride. It is in vain for the philosopher to
endeavor to make us believe that he does not intend to reduce his doctrines to
practice ; his language betrays his design. In another place, where he attempts
nothing less than to give advice to a great nation, he has hardly begun when
he holds over Europe the torch of an incendiary.

" When we read ancient history, we fancy ourselves transported to another
world, and among other beings. What have the French, the English, the Rus
sians, in common with the Greeks and Romans ? Hardly any thing but the
form. The great souls of the latter appear to the others as exaggerations of
hi^ory. How can they, who feel themselves to be so little, imagine that such

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 28S

,;reat men ever existed? They did exist, however; and they were human like
ourselves. What hinders our being men like them ? GUI prejudices, our low
philosophy, and grovelling passions, combined with the egotism of men's hearts,
by absurd institutions, directed by men of little minds." (Cottsiderations on the
jrooernmentof Poland, &c.-, Chap. 2.) Do you not observe the poison conveyed
m these words of the publicist? And is it not palpable that he had something
more in view than enlightening the mind? See with what address he attempts
to produce a feeling of irritation, by harsh and indecent reproaches.

Let us take the opposite extreme of the comparison, and see in how different
i tone St. Thomas of Aquiu, in his work De Reyimine Prtncijmm, begins his
explanation on the same subject, and gives directions for good government.(a)1

"If man," he says, "was intended to live alone, like many animals, he
would not require any one to govern him; every man would be his own king,
under the supreme command of God ; inasmuch as he would govern himself by
the light of reason given him by the Creator. But it is in the nature of man
to be a social and political animal, living in community, differently from all
other animals ; a thing which is clearly shown by the necessities of his nature
Nature has provided for other animals food; skins for a covering, means of
defence, — as teeth, horns, claws, — or, at least, speed in flight ; but she has riot
endowed man with any of those qualities; and instead siu has given him rea
son, by which, with the assistance of his hands, he can procure what he wants
But to procure this, one man alone is not enough ; for he is not in a condition
to preserve his own life; it is, therefore, in man's nature to live in society
Moreover, nature has granted to other animals the power of discerning what is
useful or injurious to them : thus the sheep has a natural horror of his euem)1
the wolf. There are also certain animals who know by nature the herbs which
are medicinal to them, and other things which are necessary for their preserva
tioii. But man has not naturally the knowledge which is requisite for the sup
port of life, except in society ; inasmuch as the aid of reason is capable of lead
ing from universal principles to the knowledge of particular things, which art
necessary for life. Thus, then, since it is impossible for man alone to obtain
all this knowledge, it is necessary that he should live in society, one aiding
another; each one applying to his own task; for example, some in medicine:
some in one way, and some in another. This is shown with great clearness in
that faculty peculiar to man, language — which enables him to communicate hit
thoughts to others. Indeed, brute animals mutually communicate their feel
ings; as the dog communicates his anger by barking, and other animals their
passions by various ways. But man, with respect to his fellows, is more com
municative than any other animal ; even than those who are the most incline J
to live in union, as cranes, ants, and bees. In this sense, Solomon says, in
Ecclesiastes : ' It is better, therefore, that two should be together than one ; foi
they have the advantage of their society.' Thus, if it be natural for maa to
live in society, it is necessary that some one should direct the multitude ; for if
many were united, and each one did as he thought proper, they would fall to
pieces, unless so'mebody looked after the public good, as would be t he case with
the human body, and that of any other animal, if there did not exist a power to
watch over the welfare of all the members. Thus, Solomon says : ' Thus, where
there is no one to govern, the people will be dispersed.' In man himself the
e>oul directs the body; and in the soul, the feelings of anger and concupiscence
are governed by the reason. Among the members of the body, there is one

1 This subject is so important, so delicate, that I shall not be satisfied with giving a translation
of the passages which I quote, however careful I maybe to render them exact and literal, at the
risk of irregularity of style and violation of the idiom of our language. 1 wish, therefore, to set
before the reader tho original texts themselves, desiring him to judge from them and not from
my version. [They will be found in the Appendix.]
37 Z

2P 0 PRCTEsTANTIbM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

principal one, which directs all ; as the heart or the head. There ought,, ,
to be in every multitude some governing power." (St. Thomas, De Regimini

iy lib. i. cap. 1.)

This passage, so remarkable for profound wisdom, clearness of ideas, solidity
of principles, vigor and exactness of deductions, contains, in a few words, all
that can be said with respect to the origin of society, and of power; to the rights
enjoyed by the latter, and the obligations incumbent upon it: the matter being
considered in general, and by the light of reason alone. In the first place, it
was required to show, with clearness, the necessity of the existence of society ;
and this the holy doctor does by this very simple reasoning — man is of such a
nature that he cannot live alone, and then he has" need of being united to his
fellows. If a proof of this fundamental truth be required, it is found in the fact,
that he is endowed with speech ; this is a sign that by nature he is destined to
communicate with other men, and consequently to live in society. After having
proved this invincible necessity, it remained to demonstrate a necessity not less.
absolute — viz. the necessity of a power to govern society. In order to make
this demonstration, St. Thomas does not invent extravagant systems, or
unfounded theories ; he does not appeal to absurd suppositions ; he is satisfied
with a reason founded on the nature of things, dictated by common sense, and
supported by daily experience — viz. that in all bodies of men, there is a direc
tor requisite; since, without him, disorder, and even dispersion, are inevitable,
for in all societies there must be a chief.

It must be allowed that this clear and simple explanation enables us to under
stand the theory of the origin of society much better than all the subtilties of
explicit and implicit pacts; it is enough for a thing to be founded on nature
itself, for it to be viewed as demonstrated as a real necessity, in order that its
existence may be easily conceived ; why then seek, by subtilties and supposi
tions, what is apparent at the first view ?

Let us not, however, suppose that St. Thomas does not acknowledge divine
right, or is ignorant that the obligation of obedience to power may be founded
on it: far from it; this truth he establishes in many places in his works; but
he does not forget the natural and the human law, which, on this point, are
combined and allied with the divine, in such a way, that the latter is only a
confirmation of, and gives a sanction to, the others. We ought thu^ to inter
pret the passages in which the holy doctor attributes the civil power to human
law, considering this law with that of grace. For example, when examining
whether infidels can have dominion or supremacy over the faithful, he says : (l>)
" It is necessary here to consider that dominion or supremacy is introduced by
virtue of human law; the distinction between the faithful and infidels, is by
divine law. Divine law, which emanates from grace, does not take away human
law, which is founded on the law of natural reason; therefore the distinction
between the faithful and infidels, considered in itself, does not take away the
dominion or supremacy of infidels over the faithful."

When inquiring, in another place, if the prince who has apostatized from the
faith by this fact loses dominion over his subjects, so that they are no longer
called upon to obey him, he expresses himself thus:(c) "As has been said
before, infidelity does not destroy dominion itself ; for dominion was introduced
by the law of nations, which is human right; while the distinction between the
faithful and infidels is by a divine, which does not take away the human right."
Again ; when examining if man is obliged to obey another man, he says : («T)
"As natural actions proceed from natural powers, so human operations proceed
from the human will. In natural things, it was necessary that inferior things
should be brought into their respective operations by the excellence of the natu
ral virtue which God has given to superior things. In the same way, also, it ia
accessary that in human things, those which are superioi should urge on the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 29)

inferior, bj tLe force of authority ordained by God. To move, by means of
reason and the will, is to command; arid as, by virtue of the natural order
instituted by God, inferior things in nature are necessarily subject to the motion
of superior things, so also, in human things, those which are inferior ought, by
natural and divine right, to obey those which are superior."

On the same question, St. Thomas examines whether obedience is a specia
virtue, aud he answers, (e) " That to obey a superior is a duty conformable ta
the diviu^ order communicated to things." In the 6th article, he states the
question whether Christians are obliged to obey the secular powers, and says : (/)
"The faiih of Christ is the principle and cause of justice, according to what is
said in the Epistle to the Romans, chap. iii. 'the justice of God by the faith of
Jesus Christ.' Thus the faith of Christ does not take away the law of justice,
but rather confirms it. This law wills that inferiors should obey their superiors ;
for without that, human society could not be preserved; and thus the faith of
Christ does not exempt the faithful from the obligation of obeying the secular
powers." I have quoted at some length these passages from St. Thomas, in
order to show that he does not understand the divine right in the sense in which
the enemies of Catholicity have made it a reproach to us; but that, properly
speaking, while he adheres to a dogma so expressly taught in the sacred text, he
considers the Divine law as a confirmation and sanction of the natural and human
law. We know that for six centuries Catholic doctors have regarded the author
ity of St. Thomas as worthy of the highest respect in all that concerns faith and
morality.

We have just seen that this angel of the schools establishes, as founded on
the natural, human, and divine law, the duty of obeying authority, affirming
that the source of all power is found in God, without entering into the question
whether God communicates this power directly or Indirectly to those who exer
cise \\ and leuving avast field where human opinions may debate without violat--
ing the purity of faith. In the same way, the most eminent doctors who have
succeeded him in the Catholic pulpits have contented themselves with establish
ing and enforcing the doctrine, without rashly making use of the authority of
the Church in its application. To prove this 1 will here insert some passage's
from distinguished theologians. Cardinal Bellarmin expresses himself in these
words: (<j) "It is certain that public authority comes from God, from whom
alone emanate all things good and lawful, as is proved by St. Augustin through
out almost all the forty-five books of the City of God. Indeed, the Wisdom
of God, in the Book of Proverbs, chap, viii., cries out, < It is by Me that kings
reign ;' and further on, < It is by Me that princes rule/ The prophet Daniel, in
the second chapter, < The God of heaven has given thee the kingdom and the
empire/ and the same prophet, in "Jie fourth chapter, 'Thy dwelling shall be
with cattle and with wild beasts, and thou shalt eat grass as an ox, and shalt be
wet with the dew of heaven, and seven years shall pass over thee, till thou know
that the Most High ruleth over the kingdom of men, and givcth it to whomso
ever He will.' " After having proved, by che authority of the Holy Scriptures,
this dogma, viz.' that the civil power comes from God, the illustrious writer
explains the sense in which it ought to be understood: (A) " But," he says, " it
is necessary to make some observations here. In the first place, political power,
considered in general, and without descending in particular to monarchy, aris
tocracy, or democracy, emanates immediately from God alone; for being neces
sarily annexed to the nature of man, it proceeds from Him who has made that
nature. Besides, that power is by natural law, since it does not depend upon
men's consent, since they must have a government whether they wLsh it or not,
under pain of desiring the destruction of the human race, which is agamst the
inclination of nature. It is thus that the law of nature is 'divine law, and
government is introduced by divine law; and it is particularly this wbinh the

292 PROTESTANTISM COM»^ED WITH CATHOLICITY.

Apostle seems to have had in view when he says to the Romans, chap, xih.,
1 He who resists authority, resists the ordinance of God ' '

This doctrine destroys all the theory of Rousseau, who makes the existencs
of society and the right of the civil power depend on human conventions ; it also
overturns the absurd systems of some Protestants, and other heretics, their prede
cessors, who, in the name of Christian liberty, pretended to condemn all authority
No! the existence of society does not depend on the consent of man^j society
is not his work; it satisfies an imperious necessity, which, if it were not satisfied,
would entail the destruction of the human race. God, when he created man,
did not deliver him to the mercy of chance ; He has given him the right of ful
filling his necessities, and has imposed on him the care of his own preservation
as a duty; therefore the existence of the human race includes also the existence
of government, and the obligations of obedience. There is no theory so clear,
simple, and solid. Shall it be called the enemy and oppressor of human free
dom ? Is it any disgrace to man to acknowledge himself the creature of God ?
to confess that he has received from Him what is necessary for his preservation ?
Is the intervention of God any infringement of human liberty, and cannot man be
free without being an Atheist ? It is absurd to say there is any thing favorable
to servitude in a doctrine which tells us " God wills not that you should live like
wild beasts: He commands you to be united in society, and for this purpose He
orders you to live in submission to an authority legitimately established." If
this be called servitude and oppression, we desire this servitude, we willingly
give up the right which is pretended to be granted to us of wandering in the
woods like wild beasts : true liberty does not exist in man when he is stripped
of the finest attribute of his nature, that of acting in conformity with reason.

Such is the explanation of divine right according to the illustrious commen
tator whom we have just quoted; let us now see the applications which he makes
of it, and learn in what way, according to him, God communicates the civil
power to those who are charged with its exercise. After the words quoted above,
Bellariuin continues: (t) " In the second place, observe, that this power resides
immediately, as in its subject, in all the multitude, for it is by divine right. The
divine right has not given this power to any man in particular, for it has given
it to the multitude; besides, the positive law being taken away, there is no reason
why one should rule rather than another, among a great, number of equal men;
therefore power belongs to the whole multitude. In tiiu-, society should be a
perfect state ; it should have the power of self-preservation, and, consequently,
that of chastising the disturbers of the peace."

This doctrine has nothing in common with the foolish assertions of Rousseau
and his followers ; no one who has studied public law will confound things so
different. Indeed, what the Cardinal establishes in the passage quoted, viz. that
power resides immediately in the multitude, is not in opposition to what he him
self taught a little before, when he said that it comes from God, and is not owing
to human conventions. His doctrine may be conveyed in this form. Suppose
a number of men without any positive law ; there is then no reason why any
one of them should have a right to rule the rust. Nevertheless, this law exists,
nature itself indicates its necessity, God ordains a government; therefore there
exists among this number of men the legitimate power of instituting one. ' To
explain more clearly the ideas of this illustrious theologian, let us suppose that
a considerable number of families, p< rfectly equal among themselves and abso
lutely independent of each other, weir thrown by a tempest on a desert island.
The vessel being destroyed, they Imv' no hope either of returning home or of
pursuing their journey. Ail communication with the rest of mankind is become
impossible: we ask, whether these famisies could live without government? No.
Has any one among them a. right uf go v vning the rest? Clearly not. Can any
individual am nig them pretend to such a right? Certainly not. Have they a

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 293

right to appoint the government of which they stand in need ? Certainly they
have. Therefore in this multitude, represented by the fathers of families or in
some other way, resides the civil power, together with the right of transmitting
it to one or more persons, according as they shall judge proper. It is difficult
to make any valid objection to the doctrine placed in this point of view. That
this is the real meaning of his words is clearly shown by the observations which
follow : (&) "In the third place," he says, "observe that the multitude transfers
this power to one person or more by natural right; for the republic not being
able to exercise it by itself, is obliged to communicate it to one or to a limited
number; and it is thus that the power of princes, considered in general, is by
natural and divine law ; and the whole human race, if assembled together, could
not establish the contrary, viz. that princes or governors did not exist."

But the fundamental principle being once established, Bollarmin allows to
society an ample right of appointing the form of government which they think
proper. This ought to refute the accusations made against the Catholic doctrine,
of favoring servitude ; for if all forms of government are reconcilable with this
doctrine, it is evident that it cannot justly be accused of being incompatible with
liberty. Hear how the same author continues on this point : (I) " Observe, in
the fourth place," he says, " that particular forms of government are by the
law of nations, and not by divine law, since it depends upon the consent of the
multitude to place over themselves a king, consuls, or other magistrates, as is
clear ; and, for a legitimate reason, they can change royalty into aristocracy, or
into democracy, or vice versa, as it was done in Koine.

" Observe, in the fifth place, that it follows, from what we have said, that this
power in particular comes from God, but by means of the counsel and election
of man, like all other things which belong to the law of nations ; for the law of
nations is, as it were, a conclusion drawn from the natural law by human
reasoning. Thence follows a two-fold difference between the political and the
ecclesiastical power : first, difference with regard to the subject, since political
power is in the multitude, and ecclesiastical in a man immediately, as in its
subject; second, difference with respect to the cause, since political power,
considered generally, is by divine law, and in particular by the law of nations,
while the ecclesiastical power is in every way by divine law, and emanates imme
diately from God."

These last words show clearly how correct I was in saying that theologians
understand the divine law in a very different manner, according as it is applied
to the civil or to the ecclesiastical power. It must not be supposed that the
doctrine now stated is peculiar to Cardinal Bellarmin ; the generality of theo
logians follow him on this point; but I have preferred quoting his authority,
because he, being so strongly attached to the See of Home, if the latter were
imbued with the principles of despotism, as it has been charged with being, no
doubt, something of them would appear in the writings of this theologian. It
is easy to anticipate the objection that will be made to this explanation ; we
shall be told that Bellarmin, having for his object the exaltation of the authority
of the Sovereign Pontiff, with this view attempted to lower the power of kings,
in order to take away or diminish all opposition to the authority of the Popes.
I will not now enter into an examination of the opinions of Bellarmin with
respect to the two powers — this would be foreign to my design ; besides, such
points of civil and ecclesiastical law excited at that time great interest, on
account of circumstances at that period, but now very little, on account of the
new course which events have taken, and the great change which has been
brought about in ideas. I shall, nevertheless, reply to this supposed difficulty
by two very simple observations. The first is, that we have not to inquire the
intentions of Bellaririm in explaining his doctrine, but in what that doctrine
tonsists. Whatever his motive may have been, we see an author of vast renown,

z 2

294 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY .

whose opinion has great weight in Catholic schools, and who wrote at Rom:-,
where, so far from his writings being condemned, he was surrounded with respect
and honor : this theologian, I say, explaining the doctrine of the Church on the
Divine origin of the civil power, does it in such terms that, while giving sacred
guarantees for the good order of society, he does not infringe on the liberty of
the people ; this is the vindication of Rome against the attacks made upon her.
The second is, that Cardinal Bellarmin does not here profess an isolated opinion —
he generality of theologians are on his side ; therefore, all that can be said
against him personally proves nothing against his doctrines. Among the many
authors that I could quote, I will select some who will represent many different

rriods : and as the obligation of being brief confines me within narrow limits,
beg the reader himself to examine the works of Catholic theologians and
moralists ; he will thus make sure of becoming acquainted with their thoughts
on this subject. Hear how Suarez explains the origin of power : (m) "Herein,"
he says, " the common opinion seems to be, that God, inasmuch as He is the
author of nature, gives the power ; so that men are, so to speak, the matter and
subject capable of this power ; while God gives the form by giving the power."
(De Leg. lib. iii. c. 3.)

He goes on to develop his doctrine, relying on the reason usually made use of
in this matter; and when he comes to draw the conclusions, he explains how
society, which, according to him, receives the power immediately from God,
communicates it to certain persons. He adds : (n) "In the second place, it
follows from what has been said, that the civil power, whenever it is found in a
man or a prince, has emanated according to usual and legitimate law, from the
people and the community, either directly or remotely, and that it cannot
otherwise be justly possessed." (Ibid. cap. 4.)

Perhaps some of my readers may not know thai a Spanish Jesuit maintained
against the King of England in person, the doctrine that princes receive power
mediately from God, and immediately from the people. This Jesuit is Suarez
himself, and the book to which I allude is called, (o) " Defence of the Catholic
and Apostolic Faith against the errors of the Anglican sect ; accompanied by a
Reply to the Apology for the Oath of Fidelity, and to the monitary Preface pub
lished by the most serene James, King of England. By P. 1). Frangois Suarez,
Professor at the University of Coimbra ; addressed to the most serene Kings and
Princes of the Christian world."

In the third book, chapter second, where he discusses the question, Whether
the political sovereignty comes immediately from God or from divine institution,
Suarez says : " Here the most serene King not only gives a new and singular
opinion, but also acrimoniously attacks Cardinal Bellarmin, for having affirmed
that Kings have not received authority immediately from God like the Popes.
He himself affirms that Kings hold their power not from the people, but imme
diately from God* ; and he attempts to support his opinion by arguments and
examples the value of which I shall examine in the next chapter.

" Although this controversy does not immediately concern the dogmas of faith
(for we have nothing in reference to it either in the Scriptures or in the Fathers),
it may nevertheless be well to discuss and explain it carefully ; 1. because it
might possibly lead to error in other dogmas ; 2. because the above opinion of the
King, as he maintains and explains it, is new, singular, and apparently invented
to exalt the temporal at the expense of the spiritual power; and 3. because we
consider the opinion of the illustrious Bellarmin ancient, received, true, and
necessary." But we must not attribute these opinions to the circumstances of
the times, nor suppose that they disappeared from the schools of theologians a-s
soon as they were advanced. In support of them, a multitude of authors might
very easily be cited, who would show that Suarez was correct in sajing that the
of Bellarmin was received and ancient; they would, moreover, show

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 295

that this doctrine continued to be admitted as a matter of course, will out any
doubt of its orthodoxy, or of its containing any thing dangerous to the stability
of monarchies. In proof of what is here adduced, I will cite passages from
distinguished authors, proving that at Rome this mode of explaining the right
divine has never been called in question ; and that in France and Spain, where
absolute monarchy had taken so deep root, this opinion was no longer regarded
as dangerous to the stability of thrones. A long period had already elapsed —
the critical position which might more or less influence the direction of ideas had
consequently disappeared, yet theologians still maintained the same doctrines.
Cardinal Gotti, who wrote in the early part of the last century, gives, in his
Treatise upon Laws, the above opinion as previously admitted, without even
attempting to confirm it. (p) In the Moral Theology of Herman Busenbaum,
enlarged by St. Alphonsus Liguori, book 1st, second Treatise upon Laws,
(chap. i. dub. 2, § 104,) it is expressly said : " It is certain that the power of
making laws exists among men, but as far as civil laws are concerned, this power
belongs naturally to no individual. It belongs to the community, who transfer
it to one or to more, that by them the community itself may be governed."

Should any one say that I quote the Jesuits only, or suspect that these doc
trines are mere casuistry, I will cite remarkable passages from other theologians,
who are neither casuists nor prepossessed in favor of the Jesuits. Father Daniel
-Concina, who wrote at Rome about the middle of the last century, supports the
same doctrine as generally admitted ; in his Thtoloyie chretienne dogmatico-
morale, Roman edition, 1768, he expresses himself as follows : (q) " All writers
generally assert that the origin of supreme power is of God, as Solomon declares
in the Book of Proverbs, c. viii., saying, l By Me kings reign, and lawgivers
decree just things :' as truly as subordinate princes are dependent upon the
supreme temporal majesty, so, in like manner, this majesty itself must depend
upon the supreme King and Lord of lords. Theologians and jurists dispute
whether this supreme power comes immediately from God, or merely in an indi
rect manner. 31 any affirm that it emanates immediately from God, because it
cannot emanate from men, whether we consider them collectively or individually ;
for all fathers of families are equal, and each possesses, with regard to his own
family, a power merely economical ; from which it follows, that they cannot
confer upon others that civil and political power which they themselves do not
possess. Moreover, if the community, in its superiority, had delegated to ono
or to more the power here under discussion, it could revoke it at pleasure, for
the superior is always at liberty to withdraw the facilities he has delegated to
another, and this would be very injurious to society.

" In support of the opposite opinion, many answer, and certainly with more
probability and truth, that, in reality, all power proceeds from God, but that it
is not delegated to any particular individual directly, unless by consent of civil
society. That this power is not vested directly in any individual, but in the
entire collection of men, is what St. Thomas expressly teaches (1, 2, qu. 90,
irt. 3, ad 2, et,qu. 97, art. 3, ad 3), followed by Dominic Soto (lib. i. qu. 1,
art. 3) ', by Ledesma (2 part. qu. 18, art. 3) ; and by Covarruvias (in Pract.
cap. i.). The reason of this is evident ; for as all men are born free with regard
to civil society, no one has any civil power over another, since this power exists
not in each, nor in any of them in a fixed manner; it follows, therefore, that it
is vested in the whole collection of men. God does not confer this power by any
special act distinct from creation, but it is a property of right "'eason, inasmuch
as right reason dictates that men, united in one moral whole, shall prescribe, by
express or tacit consent, in what manner society shall be governed, preserved, and
upheld."

It is proper to remark, that Father Concina, speaking here of tacit ->r exprett
consent, ias not in view the actual existence of society, nor the authority by

296 KIOTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOMClTk .

which it is governed, but merely the mode of exercising this authoiity foi the
direction, preservation, and defence of society. Hence, his opinion coincides
with that of Bellarmin ; society and power are of right divine and natural, but
the mbde of organizing society, and of transmitting and exercising authority, i?
human. After having shown in what sense we are to understand that civil
power comes from God, Concina resumes the question which he had proposed,
viz. in what manner authority exists in kings, princes, and other supreme heads
of government. He proceeds as follows : (r) " It is evident, therefore, that the
power existing in the prince, the king, or in many persons whether nobles or
plebeians, emanates from the community itself, directly or indirectly ; for, if it
came immediately from God, it would be manifested to us in a particular man
ner, as in the instances of Saul and David, who were chosen by God. We
consider, therefore, erroneous, the doctrine that God confers this power imme
diately and directly upon the king, the prince, or any other head of supreme
government whatever, to the exclusion of the tacit or express consent of the
public. This discussion, it is true, is one of words rather than of things, for
this power comes from God, the author of nature, inasmuch as He has ordained
and appointed that the public itself shall confer upon one or more the power of
supreme government, for the preservation and defence of society. The nomi
nation of the person or persons appointed to command being once made, their
power is said to come from God, because society itself is bound by natural and
divine right to obey him who commands. In fact, it is the will of God that
society shall be governed, whether by one individual or by several. In this
manner the several opinions of theologians are reconciled with each other, and
the oracles of Scripture appear in their true sense : ' He that resisteth the
power, resisteth the ordinance of God.' 'There is no power but from God.'
* Be subject, therefore, to every human creature for God's sake, whether to the
king/ &c. ' Thou wouldst not have any power against Me, unless it were given
thee from above.' These testimonies, and others of a like nature, ought to con
vince us that all is ordained and directed by God, the supreme Mediator. This,
however, does not exclude the operations of human institutions, as is very justly
interpreted by St. Augustin and St. John Chrysostom."

Father Billuart, who lived in the early part of last century, and, consequently,
at the same epoch when the highly monarchical traditions of Louis XIV. were
in all their vigor, expressed the same ideas on this subject as the theologians
above cited. In his work on Moral Theology, which, for almost a century, has
been widely circulated, he thus expresses himself: (s) " I maintain, in the first
place, that legislative power belongs to the community, or to its representative/'
After quoting St. Thomas and St. Isidore, he continues : " Reason proves, that
to make laws belongs of right to him who is appointed to watch over the public
good ; for the maintenance of the public good, as has been already said, is the
end and aim of the laws. It is the duty of the community, or of its ruler, to
watch over the public good ; for as the welfare of an individual is a fit object
for individual agency, so is the public good for the agency of the community, or
of him to whom its functions have been delegated ; the power of legislation,
cherefore, is vested in the community, or in its representative. I will confirm
what is here advanced. The law has the power of commanding and of coercing
in such a manner that no individual has any authority to command or restrain
the multitude. This authority belongs exclusively to the community, or to its
representative; to these, therefore, legislative power belongs." Having made
'these inflections, Billuart starts another difficulty with regard to the extreme
extension which he appears to have given to the rights of the multitude. OD
this occasion he developes his system still further, (t)

"It will be objected," says he, "that the right of commanding and compel
ling is vested in the superior, and cannot belong to the community, since it it

IBOTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 297

not superior to itself. To this I reply : Society, in one sense, is not superior
to itself, but in another it is. The community may be considered collectively
as one moral body, and in this sense it is superior to itself as considered distri-
butively in each of its members. Again ; it may be considered as acting in the
place of God, from whom emanates all legislative power, as it is said in Pro
verbs : ' By Me kings reign and the lawgivers decree just things;' or as capable
of being governed conformably to the public good. In the former case, it is
superior and legislative; in the latter, inferior and subject to the law."

As ttfis explanation might appear somewhat obscure, Billuart proceeds to
investigate more profoundly the origin of society and of civil power. He endea
vors to show how the natural, the divine, and the human laws agree on this
point, defining what belongs to each. He then continues as follows : (u) " To
render this more clear, it must be observed, that man, unlike other animals, is
born destitute of many things necessary both for body and soul, and that for
these he is indebted to society and the assistance of his fellow-mortals ; conse
quently he is, by his very nature, a social animal. This society, which nature
and reason prescribe to him as indispensable, cannot long exist without some
power to direct it, according to what is said in Proverbs : < Where there is no
governor, the people will come to ruin.' Whence it follows, that God, who has
given this nature, has also given the power of governing and of legislating. He,
in fact, who gives the form, gives, at the same time, all that such form necessa
rily requires. But as it is not possible for this executive and legislative power
to be exercised by the entire multitude, since it would be difficult for all and
each forming this multitude to assemble on all occasions when the affairs of the
commonweal are to be discussed, or laws to be established, it is usual for the
multitude to transfer its right or governing power, either to a number of people
selected from all classes, and bearing the name of a democracy ; or to a select
number of the nobles, which takes the name of an aristocracy ; or to one alone,
for himself only, or for his successors, by virtue of the right of hereditary suc
cession, which is styled a monarchy. From which it is evident that all power
comes from God, as the Apostle says, in his Epistle to the Romans, chap. xiii.
This power resides in the community, directly and by natural rt'<//tf, but in
kings and other rulers merely indirectly and by human right, unless God con
fers it directly upon certain individuals, as He did upon Moses over the Jews,
and us Christ has conferred it upon the Supreme Pontiff over the whole Church."
What is still more remarkable, our absolute monarchies were never alarmed at
these theological doctrines, not only previous to the French Revolution, but
since that Revolution, and up to the time commonly styled with us the fatal
decade, (from 1823 to 1833, the latter part of the reign of Ferdinand VII.)
It is well known that during that period the Compendium Salmalicense (Com
pendium of Salamanca) had a most favorable reception in this country, and
served as^a text-book among the professors of ethics in the colleges and univer
sities. Ye who are continually declaiming against this epoch, imagining, with
out doubt, that in those days no other doctrines than those in favor of the most
arrant despotism could be circulated, listen to what is said in the above book,
which was then placed in the hands of every youth destined to the ecclesiastical'
state. After having established the existence of a civil legislative power, tho
author thus proceeds : (x) " You will ask me, in the second place, whether tho
prince receives this civil legislative power immediately from God. I reply, It
is universally admitted that princes receive this power from God; but, at the
same time, it is maintained with more truth, that they do not receive it directly,
but through the medium of the people's consent; for all men are naturally equulj
and there is no natural distinction of superiority or inferiority. Since nature
has not given any individual power over another, God has conferred this j»owei
upon the community ; which, as it may think it more proper to be ruled by ont

•>9« PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

or by many appointed persons, transfers it to one or to many, that by them it
-nay be ruled; according to St. Thomas (1, 2, qu. 90, art. 3, ad 2). From thii
natural principle arises the variety in the forms of civil government ; for if a
state transfers all its power to a single individual, this government is termed
monarchical ; if it confers it upon the nobles of the nation, it takes the nam«
of an aristocracy ; if the people or the state -retain this power in their own
hands, the civil government is styled a democracy. Princes, therefore, receive
from God the power of conim'anding ; for supposing the election made by the
whole state, God confers upon the prince the power which was vested in the
community. Whence it follows, that the prince rules and governs in the name
of God, and whoever resists him resists the ordinance of God, according to the
words of the Apostle above cited."

CHAPTER L.

ON THE RIGHT DIVINE, ACCORDING TO THE CATHOLIC DOCTORS.

T ! K doctrine of the right divine, considered in its relation to society, presents
to .mr notice two particular points which this doctrine contains: 1. The origin
of civil power; 2. The mode in which God communicates this power.

The former point is a question of doctrine. No Catholic can entertain any
doubt upon it. The second is open to discussion ; and various opinions may be
formed upon it, without interfering with faith. With regard to the right divine,
considered in itself, true philosophy agrees with Catholicity. In fact, if civil
power comes not from God, to what source can we trace its origin ? Upon what
solid principle can we support it ? If the man who exercises it does not rest
upon God the legitimacy of his power, no title will avail to uphold his right,
It will be radically and irretrievably null. On the contrary, supposing autho
rity to come from God, our duty to submit to it becomes evident, and our dig
nity is not in the least hurt by the submission ; but, in the other supposition,
we see only force, craft, tyranny, but no reason or justice j perhaps a necessity
for submission, but no obligation. By what title does any man pretend to
command us ? Because he is possessed of superior intellect ? Who had the
right of adjudging to him the palm ? Besides, this superiority does not con
stitute a right j in some instances its direction might be useful to us, but it will
not be obligatory. Is it because he is stronger than we ? In that case the
elephant ought to be king of the entire world. Is it because he is more wealthy
than we ? Reason and justice exist not in metal. The rich man is born naked,
and his riches will not descend with him into the tomb. Upon earth they have
enabled him to acquire power ; but they do not confer upon him any right to
exercise it over others. Shall it consist in certain faculties conferred on him
by others? who has constituted other men our proxies? where is their consent?
who has collected their votes ? and how can either we or they flatter ourselves
that we possess faculties equal to the exercise of civil power ? and if we do not
possess them, how can we delegate them ?

We must here consider the doctrine which places the origin of civil power in
the will of men, supposing that this power is the result of a pact, by which
individuals have agreed to submit to the retrenchment of a part of their natural
liberty, in order to enjoy the benefits of society. According to this system,
the rights of the civil power, as well as the duties of the subject, are alike
founded on a pact, differing from other contracts only in the nature and extent
of its object ; so that, in this case, power would emanate from God merely in a
general sense, just as all rights and duties emanate from Him. Those writers
who thus explain the origin of power, do no*, always agree with Rousseau. The

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 2%

Gonirat of the philosopher of Geneva has nothing tc do with the pact spokeii
ot in other authors. This is not the place to compare the doctrines of Rous-
seau with those of other writers ; suffice it to say, that although they rely upon
the pact, they wish, nevertheless, to establish the rights of civil power as they
have been hitherto understood by the common consent of mankind, whilst the
author of the Contrat Social proposes in his book the following problem, which
he considers fundamental. 1 quote his own words : " To find a form of asso
ciation which shall defend and protect with all the common strength the person
and property of each associate, and by which each one, being united to all, shall
nevertheless obey only himself, and remain as free as before."

Such is the fundamental problem, the solution of which is given in the Con
trat Social. This nonsense of having none but one's self to obey, making a
contract, and remaining as free as before, needs no comment, after what the
author himself says in the following line : " The clauses of this contract are so
fixed by the very nature of the act, that the least modification would render
them vain and of no effect." (Book i. chap. 6.) Rousseau's ideas on this sub
ject do not, therefore, agree with those of many other writers, who also have
"Doketi of pacts, in their explanation of the origin of power ; the latter sought a
icory in support of power, the former wished to destroy that which existed,
aid to throw society into a state of excitement. Through a singular idea,
Rousseau, in his vault at the Pantheon, is represented to us with the door half
open, and a lighted torch in his hand — an emblem, perhaps, more significant
than has been imagined. The artist's intention was, to express the idea of
Rousseau's enlightening the world even after his death ; but it should be
remembered, that the torch is also an emblem of the incendiary. La Harpe
said of him :

" Sa parole est un feu, mais un feu qui ravage."

To return to the question, I will observe, that the doctrine of a pact its of uu
avail in accounting for the establishment of power; for it cannot even render
legitimate either its origin or its exercise. First, an explicit pact has evidently
never existed ; and secondly, in the formation of even the most limited society,
such a pact never could obtain the consent of every individual member. In any
convention for such an object, only the heads of families could take part; and
hence, women, children, and servants might protest against it. In assenting
to such a pact, what right would fathers have to represent the whole of their
families ? The will of the latter, it will be said, was virtually included in that
of their chief; but this is the very point that wants proof. Supposition here
is easy enough ; proof is not so easy. When you seek the origin of power in
principles of strict right, and attempt to maintain that this is only one of those
cases to which ordinary conditions of contracts are applicable, you are met at once
by a very serious difficulty ; for you are obliged to have recourse to a fiction : —
the words " implicit consent" are a mere fiction, and nothing more. Is it not evi
dent, that the consent of families must have been implicit, even supposing that
of their heads to be explicit? This explicit consent would, in fact, be impos-
siV1 5 in the formation of any society, however limited in extent. And more
over, the consent of succeeding generations will be equally implicit, since it is
impossible to be continually renewing the contract, for the purpose of consulting
the wishes of the parties interested in its effects. Reason and history teach that
society has never been thus organized ; our own experience tells us that it is not
now upheld or governed by any such principles. Of what use, then, is thia
inexplicable theory ? When a theory has a practical object, the best way jf
proving its fallacy is, to prove its impracticability.

The faculties with which civil power is, and always has been, considered tc
be invested, are of such a nature, that they cannot have proceeded from a pant

800 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

The right of life and death can have come only from God. Man is not in ],;>«
session of this right. No pact merely human could invest him with a powei
which he has not, either in relation to himself or to others. I will endeavor tc
demonstrate this point with all possible precision. If the right of taking away
life emanates not from God, but from a pact, it must have originated in the
following manner : every member of society must have said, expressly or tacitly,
"I consent to the establishment of laws to decree punishment of death" for cer
tain crimes; and if I should at any time transgress them, I am willing from
that moment to forfeit my life." In this manner, every individual will have
given up his life, supposing that the conditions specified are realized ; but no in
dividual having a right over his own life, the resigning of it becomes radically null.
The joint consent of all the members of society does not obviate the radical
and essential nullity of each onfc's right to give up his life ; the sum of their
resignations is therefore equally null, and consequently incapable of producing
any right whatever. It will be said, perhaps, that man, properly speaking, has
no right over hit. own life, when an arbitrary right is implied, but that when
he chooses to dispose of it for his own advantage, the general principle should
be restricted. This reflection, at first sight plausible, would lead to the terrible
consequence of authorizing suicide. In reply, it will be said, that suicide is no
advantage to him who commits it; but if you once grant to the individual the
right of disposing of his life, provided he reap an advantage from so doing, you
cannot constitute yourselves judges to decide whether or not this advantage
exists in any particular case. According to you, he had a right to sacrifice Ms
life when, for example, to satisfy his wants or his taste, he had stolen the pi >
perty of another. That is to say, that he had a right of choice between the
advantages of life and those of satisfying a desire : what will you answer, if he
tell you that he prefers death to misery, to ennui, to grief, or to such and such
misfortunes which torment him ?

The right of life and death cannot consequently emanate from a pact. Man's
life is not his own ; he has only the use of it so long as it pleases the Creatoi
to grant it him. He has not, therefore, the right of disposing of it, ana all
conventions he may make for that purpose are null. In some instances, it is
lawful, glorious, it may be even obligatory, to deliver oneV self up to certain
death ; but let us not confound ideas : man does not in that case sacrifice hi,:
life as being the master of it, he is a voluntary victim to the salvation of his
country, or to the good of mankind. The warrior who scales a wall, the chari
table man who confronts the most dangerous contagion in visiting the sick, the
missionary who resorts to unknown countries, who resigns himself to live in
unhealthy climates, and who penetrates into inaccessible forests, seeking fero
cious hordes, do not dispose of their lives as being their own ; they sacrifice them
to a purpose great, sublime, just, and pleasing to God; for Gfod loves virtue,
especially heroic virtue ; and it is a heroic virtue to die for one's country, to
die in visiting the sick, or in carrying the light of truth to those seated in
darkness and in the shadow of death. This right of life and death, with
which civil power has ever been considered invested, may by some be con
sidered as founded upon the natural right of self-defence vested in society.
Every individual, they will say, has the right of taking away the life of another
in self-defence; therefore society also has this right. In the chapter on Intole
rance, I have touched slightly upon this point, and made some reflections which
may be repeated here. I will endeavor, nevertheless, to extend them and con
firm them by arguments of another kind. In the first place, I maintain that
the right of self-defence may confer upon society that of taking away life. If
one individual attacked by another may lawfully repel him — kill him even, if
necessary tc vave his own life, it is evident that an assemblage of men have the
name right. This appears so evident, that demonstration is superfluous. On«

PROTISTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 301

society attacked by another has incontestably the ri^lit of resisting and repelling
the attack — it is justified in making war. With more reason, therefore, might
it resist an individual, to make war on him, or kill him. This is all perfectly
true and obvious; and I grant that there thus exists, from the very nature
of things, a title upon which we may found the right of inflicting capital
punishment.

These ideas are plausible, and seem at first sight to nullify the reasons on
which we have supported the necessity of having recourse to God for the origin
of this formidable right. Nevertheless, when we come to examine them
thoroughly, they are far from satisfactory ; and it may be even said, that in the
sense in which they are understood and applied, they are subversive of the
acknowledged principles of society. In fact, if such a theory be admitted, if
the right of inflicting capital punishment be made to rest exclusively on this
principle, the ideas of penalty ^ chastisement, and of human justice disappear at
once. It has always been thought that the criminal dying upon a gibbet suffers
a penalty ; and although this terrible act is certainly a satisfaction to society, a
means of preservation, yet the principal and predominant idea, that which sur
passes all others, which best justifies arid exculpates society, which gives to the
judge his august character, and stamps disgrace upon the criminal, is the idea of
chastisement, of penalty, and of justice. All this disappears when once we can
assert that society, in taking away life, only acts in self-defence. Such an acJ
is conformable to reason, it is just, but it no longer merits the honorable title
of an executive act of justice. A man is justified in killing an assassin; but
in so doing he does not administer justice, he does not execute justice, nor
inflict a penalty. These things are very different, and of a distinct order; we
cannot confound them without shocking the good sense of mankind.

We will render this distinction more apparent by putting the two theories
into the mouth of the judge : the contrast is striking. In the former case, the
judge says to the criminal : " You are guilty ; the law decrees against you the
penalty of death ; 1, the minister of justice, apply it; the executioner is ordered
to inflict it." In the second, he says to him : " You have attacked society,
which cannot exist if such attacks are tolerated. It defends itself, and for this
reason puts you to death ; 1, its agent, declare, that the time for its defending
itself is come, and hence I give you up to the executioner." In the former
supposition, the judge is a minister of justice, and the culprit a criminal who
undergoes a just penalty ; in the latter, the judge is an instrument of force, the
culprit a victim. But, it will be said, the criminal is not on this account less
criminal, and still merits the penalty which he undergoes. This is true with
respect to the yuilt, but not with respect to the penalty. The fault exists in
the eyes of God, and also in the eyes of man, inasmuch as he possesses a con
science capable of judging of the morality of actions; but it does not exist in
the eyes of man, considered as a judge. According to you, the judge does not
punish a crime; he restrains an act injurious to society: but if you say that
the judge iiijticfs a penalty, you change the nature of the question, for he then
does something more than protect society. It follows from what we have just
established, that the right of inflicting capital punishment can only emanate
from God, and, consequently, if there existed no other reason for referring to
God the origin of power, this alone would suffice. War against an invading
nation may be explained by the right of self-defence ; invasion also comcb undei
the same principle ; for if it be just, it can be entered upon only with a view to
enforce some reparation or compensation refused by the enemy. War for the
sake of alliance enters into that class of actions which are performed for the
assistance of a friend ; so that this phenomenon of war, with all its glory, and
all its ravages, does not so forcibly oblige us to have reco irse to a divine origin
is this simple right of condemning a man to the gibbet. The sanction of law

2 A

W PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLIClTi.

ful warR &tso undoubtedly belongs to God, for in Him exists the sanction <>f al.
rights aLd of all duties; but there is not, in this case at least, any need of par
ticular authorization, as in the case of inflicting capital punishment. It is suf
ficient to have the general sanction which God, as the author of nature, has
i*iven to all natural rights and duties.

How do we know that God has granted such an authorization to man ? There
are three ways of answering this question. 1. The testimony of the Scriptures
is sufficient for all Christians. 2. The right of life and death is a universal
tradition of the human race, and does, therefore, exist in reality; and as we
have shown that it can have its origin only in God, it is right to suppose that
He has communicated it to man in one way or another. 3. This right is essen
tial to the preservation of society ; God must, therefore, have granted it ; for if
He wills the preservation of a being, it is evident that He will have bestowed
upon it all things necessary for such preservation. To recapitulate what we
have hitherto advanced : the Church teaches that civil power comes from God,
and this doctrine, which agrees with the formal texts of Scripture, agrees also
with natural reason. The Church contents herself with establishing this dogma,
*ind deducing from it the immediate consequence resulting from it, viz. that
obedience to the lawful authorities is of right divine. With regard to the mode
in which this right divine is communicated, the Church has not determined any
thing: the general opinion of theologians is, that society receives it from God,
and that, from society, it is transferred, by lawful means, to the person or per
sons appointed to exercise it. In order that civil power may exact obedience,
and be considered invested with this right divine, it must be legitimate ; that
is to say, the person or persons in possession of it must have acquired it by law
ful means, or this power must have become legitimate in their possession, b};
means acknowledged to be in accordance with right. With respect to political
forms, the Church does not determine any thing ; but whatever be the form of
government, the civil power must be confined within legitimate bounds, while
the subject, on his side, is bound to obey. The fitness and legitimacy of such
or such persons, and of such and such forms, are subjects not appertaining to
right divine. They are particular questions, depending upon a variety of cir
cumstances, and to which no general theory is applicable.

One example of private right will serve to illustrate what we have just ex
plained. Respect for property is of natural and divine right; but the ownership
of property, the respective rights of individuals to the same thing, the restric
tions to which property should be subject, are questions appertaining to civil
right, which have always been resolved, and are still resolved, in various ways.
The main object is to adhere to the protective principle of property, the indis
pensable basis of all social organization ; but the application of this principle is,
and must be, subject to a variety of circumstances and events, a variety arising
from the course of human affairs. It is the same with power. The Church,
intrusted with the great deposit of the most important truths, keeps in this de
posit the truth which guaranties a divine origin to civil power, and makes the
existence of the law an affair of right divine ; but she does not interfere in par
ticular cases, which are always controlled more or less by the fluctuation and
uncertainty with which the world is agitated. When thus explained, the
Catholic doctrine is not in the least opposed to true liberty ; it consolidates
power, and does not prejudice the questions that may arise between the go-
veiaors and the governed. No unlawful power can lay claim to the right
divine ; for it must be legitimate to merit the application of this right. This
legitimacy is determined and declared by the laws of each country, from which
it fallows that the law is the organ of the right divine. This right, therefore,
only consolidates what is just; and certainly that which insures justice in the
world carnot be said to lead to despotism, for nothing can be more opposed tc

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 31)?.

the liberty and happiness of the people than the absence of justice and legiti
macy.

Popular liberties are not endangered by the strong safeguards surrounding
the legitimacy of the governing power. On the contrary, reason, history, and
experience teach that all illegitimate powers are tyrannical. Their illegitimacy
necessarily carries weakness along with .it; and it is not the strong, but the
weak powers that oppress the people. Real tyranny consists in the person
governing taking care of his own instead of the public interest. Now this is
precisely what takes place when, feeling himself weak and tottering, he is forced
to guard and protect himself. His object is then, no longer society, but him
self. Instead of thinking how he may benefit those over whom he rules, he
only studies and calculates beforehand the utility he may derive from his own
measures. I have said in another place, and I repeat, that, in looking over his
tory, we find continually this important truth written in letters of blood : Wo to
the people governed l>y a power which is obliged to think of its own preservation!
A fundamental truth in political science, and which has, nevertheless, been
lamentably overlooked in modern times. Much labor has been and is still spent
to produce guarantees for liberty. To this end a multitude of governments
have been overturned, and attempts have been made to weaken them all, with
out thinking that this was the most certain means of introducing oppression.
What signify the veils under which despotism is concealed, and the forms by
which it seeks to disguise its existence ? History, which has recorded the out
rages committed in Europe during the last century ; true history, not that
written by the authors of those outrages, by their accomplices, or by interested
parties, will rciate to posterity the injustices and crimes committed in the midst
of civil discord by governments foreseeing their end, and feeling in themselves
extreme weakness caused by their tyrannical conduct and the illegality of their
origin.

How is it, then, that such a violent warfare has been declared against doc-
crines tending to consolidate civil authority by rendering it legitimate, and to
prove this legitimacy by declaring that power descends from Heaven '' How
has it been overlooked that the legitimacy of power is an essential element of
its strength, and that this strength is the safest guarantee of true liberty ? Let
it not be said that these are paradoxes. What is the object of societies and
governments ? Is it not the substitution of public for private force, of the rule
of right for the rule of the strong ? But when once you begin to undermine
power, to make it an object of popular aversion 01 defiance ; when once you
represent it to the people as their natural enemy, and vilify the sacred titles on
which obedience due to it is founded, you attack at once the very object of the
institution of society; and by weakening the action of public force, you provoke
a development of private force, which is the very thing that governments were
instituted to prevent. The secret of that mildness for which European mo
narchies were remarkable, consisted chiefly in their security and strength,
founded upon the loftiness and legality of the titles of their power; whilst you
will find in the perils with which the thrones of the Roman emperors and East
ern monarchs were beset, one reason for their monstrous despotism. I do not
hesitate to assert, and in the course of this work I shall prove more and more,
that one cause of the evils to which Europe has been exposed during the labori
ous solution of the problem of the alliance between order and liberty, is the
oblivion of Catholic doctrines on thih point. These doctrines have been con
demned without being heard or examined into, and the enemies of the Church
have copied each other without ever having recourse to the real sources, where
they might easily have found out the truth.

Protestantism, departing from the teaching of Catholicity, has been thrown
alternately upon two opposite rocks ; wishing to establish order, it has done m

304 PROTESTANTISM COMPAKED WITH CATHOLICITY

to the prejudice of true liberty ; and in its desire to maintain liberty, it ha«
become an enemy to order. From the bosom of false reform have arisen the
insane doctrines, which, preaching up Christian liberty, discharged the subject
from his obedience to the lawful authorities; from the bosom of the same
reform has likewise arisen the theory of Hobbes, which sets up despotism in the
midst of society as a monstrous idol, to which all should be sacrificed, without
regard for the eternal principles of morality, with no other rule than the- caprice
of him who rules, with no other bounds to his power than those marked out by
the extent of his strength. Such is the necessary result of banishing from the
world the authority of God. Man, left to himself, can only succeed in pro
ducing slavery or anarchy; the same thing under two forms; the reign of force.
In explaining the origin of society and power, divers modern writers have
said a great deal about a certain state of nature anterior to all societies, and
have supposed that these societies were formed by a gradual transition from a
barbarous to a civilized state. This erroneous doctrine lies deeper than some
persons imagine. If we pay particular attention to the subject, we shall find
that the erroneous ideas entertained on this subject may be traced to the forget-
fulness of Christian teaching. Hobbes derives every kind of right from a pact.
According to him, when men live in a state of nature, they have a right to every
thing ; which means, in other terms, that there is no difference between good
and evil. From which it follows that society was organized without any regard
to morality, and ought to be considered merely as a means to an end. Puffen-
dorf and some others, admitting the principle of sociality, that is, deriving from
society the rules of morality, arrive at last at the principle of Hobbes, and tram
ple under foot both the natural and eternal laws. Investigating the causes of
these grave errors, I find them in the deplorable contempt which writers on phi
losophy and morality in modern times have so eagerly evinced for the treasures
of light afforded us by religion. This light, religion affords us on all questions,
fixing by its dogmas the cardinal points of all true philosophy, and offering us
in its narrations the only thread that can guide us through the labyrinth of the
first ages. Read the Protestant writers, compare them with the Catholic, and
you will find a remarkable difference between them. The latter reason, give
their minds free scope, and allow them a wide range ; but they ever leave
untouched certain fundamental principles, and every theory which they canuot
reconcile with these principles is inexorably rejected by them as erroneous. The
former roam without guide or compass in the boundless space of human opinions,
presenting to us a lively image of that pagan philosophy which had not the
light of faith to guide its inquiries into the principles of things. Instead of
finding a God, the Creator and Director, occupied without ceasing, like a tender
father, with the happiness of beings whom He has drawn from nothing, this
philosophy never discovered any thing but chaos, either in the physical or in the
social world. This degraded and brutalized state, disguised under the name of
nature, is in reality nothing but the chaos of society. This chaos will be found"
in a great number of modern writers who are not Catholics; and by a surprising
coincidence, worthy of the most serious reflection, it will also be found in the
principal writers on pagan science.

From the moment that we lose sight of the great traditions of mankind, tra
ditions in which man is represented to us receiving from God himself intelli
gence, speech, and rules for his conduct in this life; from the moment that we
forget the narration of Moses, that simple, sublime, and only true explanation of
the origin of man and of society ; our ideas become confused, the facts are jumbled,
one absurdity creates another, and, like the builders of the tower of Babel,
we suffer the just punishment of our pride. How wonderful ! that antiquity,
which, deprived of the light of Christianity, and lost in the labyrinth of human
inventions, had almost forgotten the primitive tradition of the origin of society

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 306

and had recourse to the absurd transition from the barbarous to the civilized
state, should nevertheless, whenever a society was to be formed, have invoked
this right divine, which certain philosophers have treated with so much disdain.
The most renowned legislators sought to establish upon Divine authority, the
laws they were giving to the people, thus rendering a solemn homage to that
truth logically established by Catholics, viz. that all power, to be regarded as
legitimate and to exercise its due ascendency, must receive its titles from God.
If you desire that the legislator should not be placed under the sad necessity of
feigning revelations which he has never received, or bringing forward the inter
vention of God at every moment in an extraordinary manner in human affairs,
establish the general principle that all power proceeds from God, that the author
of nature is likewise the author of society, that the existence of society is a pre
cept irsposed upon mankind for their own preservation. Let submission and
obedience be so regulated as not to wound man's pride ; let those who rule over
^im be invested with superior authority, to which he can submit without a
dhadow of self-abasement. In short, establish the Catholic doctrine. Whatever
be the form of government, you will then have found a solid basis on which to
support the respect due to the authorities ; you will have placed the social edifice
upon a foundation far more secure than human conventions.

Examine the right divine such as I have represented it, supported by tin
interpretations of illustrious doctors, and I am certain that you cannot refuse to
admit its perfect conformity to the lights of true philosophy ; but if you persist
in giving to this right a strange sense which it does not possess, pretending that
it ought to have a different explanation, I shall insist upon one thing which you
cannot refuse me : produce' me a text of Scripture, a monument of the traditions
acknowledged as articles of faith in the Catholic Church, a decision of the Coun
cils or of the Pontiffs, showing your interpretation to be well founded. Until
you have done this, I have a right to tell you, that, possessed with the desire of
rendering Catholicity odious, you impute to it doctrines which it does not pro
fess, you attribute to it dogmas which it does not acknowledge ; that you are
adversaries without candor or honesty, and employ weapons disallowed by tho
laws of combat. (28)

CHAPTER LI.

TRANSMISSION OP POWER, ACCORDING TO THE CATHOLIC DOCTORS-

THE difference of opinion concerning the mode in which God communicates
civil power, however grave in theory, does not appear to be of great importance
in practice. We have already observed, that, among those who assert that this
power comes from God, some maintain that it proceeds from Him directly ', others
indirectly. In the opinion of the former, when once the nomination of the per
sons appointed, to exercise authority is made, society not only lays down the
necessary conditions for the communication of power, but actually communicates
it, having first received it from God. The latter maintain that society merely
makes the appointment, and, by means of this act, God confers the power upon
the pei son appointed. I repeat, that, in practice, the result is the same, and the
difference therefore vanishes. Nay, even in theory, the divergence may not be
so great as it appears at first sight. I shall endeavor to demonstrate this by
submitting the two opinions to rigorous investigation.

The explanation given of the origin of power by both parties may be set foith

in the following terms : In the opinion of some, God says, " Society, for thy

preservation and well-being, thou requirest a government; choose, therefore,

under what form this government shall be exercised, and appoint the persons

99 2 A 2

£>06 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

who are to take charge of it; I, on my part, will confer upon them the faculties
necessary for the fulfilment of their mission." in the opinion of others, God
gays, '• Society, for thy preservation and well-being, thou requirest a government :
I confer upon thee the faculties necessary for the fulfilment of this object; choose
thyself the form under which this government shall be exercised, and, appoint
ing the persons who are to take charge of it, transmit to them the faculties
which I have communicated to thee."

In order to be convinced of the identity of the results of these two formulas,
we must examine them in their relations: 1. to the sanctity of their origin;
2. to the rights and duties of power; 3. to the rights and duties of the subject.
Whether God has communicated power to society, to be transmitted by it to the
persons appointed to exercise it, or has merely conferred upon it the right of
determining the form and appointing such persons, that, by means of this deter
mination and appointment, the rights annexed to supreme power may be directly
communicated to the persons intrusted with the exercise of it, it follows, in either
case, that this supreme power, wherever it exists, emanates from God ; and is
not less sacred because it passes through an intermediate means appointed by
Him. I will illustrate these ideas by a very simple and obvious example. Sup
pose there exists in a state some particular community, instituted by the sove
reign, and having no rights but those granted by him ; no duties but those
which he imposes upon it; in fine, a community indebted to the sovereign for all
that it is and has. This community, however small it may be, will require a
government : this government may be formed in two ways ; either the sovereign
who has given it its laws has conferred upon it the right of governing itself,
and of transmitting this right to the person or persons" whom it may think proper
to elect ; or he has left to the community itself the determination of the form
and the appointment of the persons, adding that such determination and appoint
ment being once made, it shall be understood that, by this simple act, the sove
reign grants to the persons appointed the right of exercising their functions
within lawful bounds. It is evident that the parity is complete; and now I ask,
Is it not true that, in this case, as in the other, the faculties of him who governs
should be considered and respected as an emanation from the sovereign'/ Is it
not true that it would be difficult to discover any difference between these twc
kinds of investiture? In both suppositions, the community would have the
right of determining the form and appointing the person ; in both cases, he whc
governs could only obtain his powers by virtue of the previous determination
and appointment; in neither case would there need any new manifestation on
the part of the sovereign, that the person nominated might be understood to be
invested with faculties corresponding to the exercise of his functions. In prac
tice, therefore, there would be no difference ; further, I will assert that, in theory
even, it would be difficult to trace the point of separation between the two

Certainly, if we view the matter with the eye of an acute metaphysician, we
may very easily discover this difference, by considering the moral entity which
we call power ; not as it is in itself, and in its effects, but as an abstract being,
passing from one hand to another, in the manner of corporeal objects. But,
instead of examining the question for the curiosity of knowing whether this
moral entity, before arriving at one person, has not first passed through another,
let us first seek to verify from whence it emanates, and what are the faculties it
confers, the rights it imposes : we shall then find that, in saying, " I confer this
faculty upon you, transmit it to whomsoever you think proper, and in whatever
way you think proper/' the sovereign expresses no more than if he should say :
" Such or such a faculty shall be conferred by me upon the person you wish, and
in the manner you wish, by the simple fact of the election you have made." It
follows hence, that whether we adopt the opinion of direct communication, 01

PROTEfc TANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 301

the contrary one, the supreme rights of hereditary monarchies, of ebcti e mon
archies, and in general of all supreme powers, whatever be their forms of govern-
ment, will not on this account be less sacred, less certainly sealed with divine
authority. Difference in the forms of government does not in the least diminish
the obligations of submitting to civil power, lawfully established ; so that thG
refusing of obedience, to the president of a republic, in a country in which repub
licanism is the legal form of government, is no less a criminal resistance to the
ordinance of God, than the refusing of the same obedience to the most absolute
monarch. Bossuet, so strongly attached to monarchy, and writing in a country
and at a period in which the king might exclaim, "lam the state;" and in a
work, in which he proposed nothing less than to offer a complete treatise on
Politics, taken from the words of Holy Scripture ; established, nevertheless, in
a manner the most explicit and conclusive, the truth which I have just pointed
out. " We ought to be subject," says he, " to the form of government estab
lished in our country." And he afterwards quotes these words of St. Paul in
his Epistle to the Komans, chap. xiii. : " Let every soul be subject to higher
powers ; for there is no power but from God ; and those that are, are ordained
of God; therefore he that resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God."
u There is no form of government," continues Bossuet, " nor any human insti
tution, without its inconveniences ; so that it is necessary to remain in the state
to which length of time has inured the people. For this reason, God takes under
His protection all legitimate governments, in whatever form they may be estab-
lisJied; whoever undertakes to overturn them, is not only an enemy to the pub
lic, but also to God." (Liv. ii. prop. 12.)

It is of little consequence whether power be communicated directly or indi
rectly ; the respect and obedience due to it are not in the least changed, and
consequently the sacredness of the origin of power remains the same, whichever
opinion be adopted; neither do the rights and duties of government, and thosj
of the subject, remain less sacred. These rights and duties suffer no chaiigj,
whether there be or not an intermediate means for the communication of power ;
their nature and limits are founded upon the very object of the institution of
society ; but this object is totally independent of the mode in which God com
municates power to man. Against what I have advanced upon the small amount
of difference existing between these various opinions, the authority of the theo
logians, whose texts I have cited in the preceding chapter, will be objected.
" These theologians," it will be said, " certainly understood these affairs; and
as they placed so much importance upon the distinction here under discussion,
they undoubtedly saw in it some great truth proper to be taken into account."
This objection acquires the more force, when we consider that the distinction
made upon this point by these theologians does not proceed from a spirit of
subtilty, as it might be suspected in the case of those scholastic theologians,
whose writings are replete with dialectic arguments, rather than with reasoning
founded upon Scripture, upon the apostolical traditions and other theological
resources, from which we ought principally to take our arguments in contro
versies of this nature ; but the theologians whom I have quoted are certainly
not of this class. We need only name Bellarmin, to recognise a grave and
extremely solid author, who opposed the Protestants with Scripture, with tradi
tions, with the authority of the holy Fathers, the decisions of the universal
Church and of the Sovereign Pontiffs : Bellarmin was not one of those theolo
gians who excited the lamentations of Melchior Cano, and of whom he said, that
in the hour of combat against heresy, instead of wielding well-tempered weapons,
they wielded only long reeds : arundines longas. Such was the importance
given to this distinction, that James, King of England, complained loudly thai
Cardinal Bellarmin taught that the power of kings carnr* from God only indi
rectly ; and the Catholic schools were so far from looking upon this distinction

308 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

a& insignificant, that they defended it against the attacks of King James ; ana
that onu of their most illustrious doctors, Suarcz, entered the lists to contend
for the doctrines of Bellarmin.

it appears, then, at first sight, that I am wrong in what I have said upon the
slight importance of the distinction here mentioned. I believe, nevertheless
that the difficulty may be easily removed, and that it will suffice for this purpose
to distinguish the different aspects under which the question presents itself.
First of all, I will observe, that the Catholic theologians proceeded upon this
point with admirable prudence and foresight ; and truly the question, such as it
was then proposed, comprehended more than a subtilty ; I am inclined to think
that it included one of the most serious points of public right. In order to
examine deeply these doctrines of Catholic theologians, and to lay hold of their
true sense, we must fix our attention upon the tendencies which the religious
reform of the sixteenth century communicated to European monarchy. Even
before this reform, thrones had acquired a great deal of force and solidity, through
the decline in the power of the feudal lords, and the development of the demo
cratic element. That element, which in due time was destined to acquire the
power of which it is now possessed, was not .then in sufficiently favorable circum
stances to exert its action on the vast scale which it embraces in our days. Or,
this account, it was obliged to take refuge under the shadow of the throne — an
emblem of order and justice elevated in the midst of society — a sort of universal
regulator and leveller, destined gradually to destroy the extreme inequalities sc
harassing and obnoxious to the people. Thus, democracy itself, which, in after
ages, was to overturn so many thrones, served them, at that time, as a firm gup-
port, sheltering them from the attacks of a turbulent and formidable aristocracy,
unwilling to be transformed into mere courtiers. There was nothing in this s*at€
of things very mischievous, so long as matters remained within the limits pre
scribed by reason and justice; but, unfortunately, good principles were exagge
rated, regal authority was gradually converted into an absorbent force, which
would have concentrated in itself all other forces. European monarchy lost thu?
its true character, which consists in monarchy having just limits, even when
these limits are not marked out and guarded by political institutions.

Protestantism exalts to an incredible degree the pretensions of kings, by
attacking the spiritual power of the Pope, by painting in the darkest colors the
dangers of his temporal power, and especially by establishing the fatal doctrine,
that the supreme civil power has ecclesiastical affairs totally under its direction;
and by accusing of abuse, of usurpation, of unbounded ambition, the indepen
dence which the Church claims by virtue of the sacred canons, of the guarantee
afforded by the civil law, of the traditions of fifteen centuries, and above all, of
the institution of her Divine Founder. He had no need of the permission of
any civil power to send His apostles to preach the Gospel, and to baptize in the
name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. A glance at the his
tory of Europe at the epoch here mentioned will convince us of the evil con
sequences of such a doctrine, and show us how agreeable it must have been to
the ears of power, which it invested with unbounded faculties, even in matters
purely religious. This exaggeration of the rights of civil power, coinciding
with the efforts made on the other hand to repress the pontifical authority, must
have favored the doctrine which attempted to place the power of kings upon
a level, in every respect, with that of Popes; and consequently, it was very
natural that its authors should wish to establish, that sovereigns received their
power from God, in the same manner as the Popes, without any difference what
ever. The doctrine of direct communication, although very susceptible, as we
have seen, of a reasonable explanation, might involve a more extensive mean
ing, which would ha^ve made the people oblivious of the special and characte
ristic manner in whicn the supreme power of t{ie Church was instituted by God

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 30t

hinself. What I have just advanced cannot be considered as merely conjeo
tural; the whole is supported by facts which cannot have been forgotten. The
reigns of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth of England, and the usurpations and
violence in which Protestant powers indulged against the Catholic Church, are
a sufficient confirmation of these sad truths. But, unfortunately, even in
countries where Catholicity remained triumphant, attempts were then, have
einne been, and still are witnessed, that show clearly enough how _ strong was
the impulse given in this sense to the civil power; for even now it is but too
prone to transgress its legitimate bounds.

The circumstances under which the two illustrious theologians above cited,
Bellarmin and Suarez, wrote, are another reason in support of what I have just
adduced. I have quoted remarkable passages from a work by Suarez, written
in refutation of a publication of King James of England. This King could not
bear the idea of Cardinal Bellarmin' s having established that the power of kings
does not emanate directly from God, but is communicated through the medium _
of society, which receives it in a direct manner. Possessed, as is well known,
with the mania for theological debates and decisions, King James did not con
fine himself to simple theory; he reduced his theory to practice, and said to his
Parliament: " that God had appointed him absolute master; and that all pri
vileges which co-legislative bodies enjoyed were pure concessions proceeding
from the bounty of kings." His courtiers, in their adulations, decreed him
the title of the modern Solomon; he might well, therefore, feel displeased
with the Italian and Spanish theologians for endeavoring to humble the pride
of his presumptuous wisdom, and restrain his despotism. If we reflect upon
the words of Bellarmin, and especially on those of Suarez, we shall find that
the aim of these eminent theologians was to point out the difference^ between
the civil and ecclesiastical powers, with respect to the mode of their origin.
The} admit that both powers come from God; that it is an indispensable duty
to be subject to them ; and that to resist them is to resist the ordinance of
God; but not finding, either in the Scripture or in tradition, the least fourda-
tion for establishing that civil power, like that of the Sovereign Pontiffs, has
been instituted in a special and extraordinary manner, 'they are anxious that
this difference should remain obvious, and seek to avoid the introduction, i a a
point of such import, of a confusion of ideas, from which dangerous errors misjht
arise. u This opinion," says Suarez, "is new, singular, and apparently in
vented to exalt the temporal over the spiritual power." (See above.) Hence,
in discussing the question of the origin of civil power, they require you to^bear
in mind the influence of society. " By means of man's counsel and election"
says Bellarmin; thus remind >g the King, that how sacred soever his authority
might be, it had been very differently instituted from that of the Sovereign
Pontiff. The distinction between direct and indirect communication served, in
a particular manner, to prove the difference in question ; for this very distinction
recalled to mind that civil power, although established by God, owed its exist
ence to no extraordinary measure, and could not be considered as supernatural,
but was to be looked upon as dependent upon human and natural right, sanc
tioned, nevertheless, in an express manner, by right divine.

These theologians would not, perhaps, have forcibly insisted upon this dis
tinction, had it not been for the efforts made by others to efface it. It was a
matter of consequence with them to humble the pride of power, to prevent it
from assuming, whether in respect to its origin or its rights, titles not apper
taining to it; to prevent its ascribing to itself an unlawful supremacy, even in
religious affairs, and thus causing monarchy to degenerate into a sort of Oriental
despotism, in which the governing power is every thing, the people and their
affairs nothing. If we weigh their words attentively, we shall find that the
predominating idea with them was that which I have just statad. At first

510 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLInITl .

sight, their language appears exceedingly democratical, from their frequent t.so
of the words community, state, society, people; but on examining closely their
system of doctrine, and paying attention to the expressions they use, we per
ceive that they had no subversive design, and that anarchical theories never
once entered their minds. They advocated on the one hand the rights of
authority, whilst they protected on the other those of the subject, thus en
deavoring to resolve the problem which formed the continual occupation of all
Sonest political writers ; to limit power without destroying it, or placing it
md?r t^ great restraint ; to protect society against the disorder of despotism,
without rendering it at the same time refractory or turbulent. From the
above reasoning we see that the distinction between direct and indirect com
munication may be of great or of little importance, according to the view we
take of it. It is of great importance when serving to remind the civil powei
that the establishment of governments and the regulation of their forms has
in some way been dependent upon society itself, and that no individual, no
family, can presume upon having received from God the government of the
people without regard to the laws of the country, as if those laws, in whatever
form, were a free offering made by them to the people. This same distinction
serves, in short, to establish the origin of civil power as an emanation from the
Deity, the Author of nature, but not as instituted in an extraordinary manner,
as something supernatural, as in the case of the supreme ecclesiastical power.
From this latter consideration two consequences follow, one of which is of
more importance than the other to the legitimate liberties of mankind and the
independence of the Church. To call in the intervention, express or tacit, of
society for the establishment of governments and the regulation of their forms,
is to prevent the concealment of their origin under any veil of mystery; it ia
simply and plainly to define their object, consequently to explain their duties,
as well as to point out their faculties. By these means a restraint is put upon
the disorders and abuses of authority, which it is thenceforth clearly seen are
not to find support in enigmatical theories.

The independence of the Church is thus established upon a solid basis.
Whenever the civil power attempts to offer it violence, the Church may say :
" My authority is established directly and immediately by God in a special, ex
traordinary, and miraculous manner; yours likewise emanates from God, but
through the intervention of man, through the intermediary of the laws, in the ordi
nary course pointed out by nature and determined by human prudence ; but
neither man nor the civil power has a right to destroy or change what God
Himself, deviating from the course of nature and making use of ineffable
prodigies, has thought proper to institute." So long as the ideas here set forth
are respected, so long as direct communication is not received in too extensive
a sense, and care taken not to confound things whose limits so gravely affect
religion and society, the distinction here spoken of is of little importance. We
have seen, even, that the two opinions may be reconciled with each other. At
all events, this distinction will have served to illustrate with what exalted views
Catholic theologians have discussed the grave questions of public right. Guided
by sound philosophy, and without ever losing sight of the beacon of revelation,
they have given equal satisfaction to the desires of both schools. They have
not fallen into the errors of either; democratical without being anarchists,
monarchical without being base adulators. In establishing the rights of the
people, they were not, like modern demagogues, under the necessity of destroy
ing religion, but made her the guardian of the rights of the people, as well as
of those of kmgs. Liberty was not with them a synouyme for license and
irreligion; in their opinion, men might be free without being rebellious or
impious j liberty consisted in being subject to the law; and, as they could not
conceive that law was possible without religion and without God, in like man

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 311

ner also they believed that liberty was not possible without God and religion
What reason, revelation, and history taught them has become evident to us b^
experience. Shall we be told of the dangers, grave or slight, in which theolo
gians could involve governments ? But people now-a-days are not led astray
by affected and insidious declamations; and kings well know whether the
nc^Dola of theologians have exiled royalty, and led it to the scaffold. (29)

CHAPTER LII.

FREEDOM OF SPEECH UNDER THE SPANISH MONARCHY.

EXTREME doctrines neither insure the liberty of the people, nor the force
and stability of governments; both require truth and justice, the only founda
tions upon which we can build with any hope of the durability of the edifice.
In general, maxims favorable to liberty are never carried to a higher pitch than
on the eve of the establishment of despotism ; and it is to be feared that the
overthrow and ruin of governments are very near when undue adulations are
lavished upon their power. When was the power of kings more extolled than
about the middle of last century ? Who is not aware of the exaggerations
given to the prerogatives of royal power, when the Jesuits were to be expelled,
and the authority of the Sovereign Pontiff impugned ? In Portugal, Spain.
Italy, Austria, and in France, the unanimous voice of the purest and most fer
vent royalism was heard ; and yet what became of this great love, this lively
zeal for monarchy, from the moment that the revolutionary storm had placed
it in danger ? Observe what, generally speaking, has been the conduct of men
opposed to the ecclesiastical authority; they have united themselves to dema
gogues for destroying, at the same time, the authority of the Church and that
of kings ; they have forgotten their base adulations, and abandoned themselves
to insults and violence. People and governments should never lose sight of
this rule of conduct, so useful to men of sense, to mistrust flatterers, and to
confide in those who warn and correct them. Let them beware whenever they
are caressed with an affected tenderness, and their cause is maintained with
especial warmth ; it is a sure sign of an attempt to make use of them as tools
for the furtherance of interests very different from their own. In France, at
certain times, monarchical zeal was carried to such an extent as to call forth,
in the assembly of the States-General, a motion for establishing, as a sacred
principle, that kings receive their supreme authority immediately from God :
this was not carried into effect, but the propc ' shows how ardently the cause
of the throne was then maintained. Now, wnai did all this ardor mean ?
Simply an antipathy against the Court of Rome, a dread of the extension of
papal power ; it was an obstacle to be opposed to the phantom of a universal
monarchy. Louis XIV., so tenacious of the royal prerogative, assuredly did
not foresee the misfortunes of Louis XVI. ; and Charles III., in listening to the
Count of Aranda and Campomanes, little thought that the constituent Cortes
of Cadiz was so near.

In the midst of their splendor, monarchs forgot one principle predominating
in the whole modern history of Europe, viz. that social organization is an
emanation of religion, and, consequently, that the two powers to which the
defence and preservation of society appertain ought to co-exist in perfect
harmony.

The power of the Church cannot be diminished without injury to the civil
power ; he who sows schism will reap rebellion. During the last three centu
ries the iL.ost liberal and popular doctrines upon the origin of power have been
cirtilated amongst us. What did it matter to the Spanish monarchy, si not

jl2 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

those very persons who advocated these doctrines were the first to 3ondemu
resistance to the lawful authorities, to inculcate the obligation of obedience to
them, and to establish in all hearts, respect, love, and veneration for the sove
reign ? The disturbances of our epoch, and the dangers constantly besetting
thrones, are not exactly attributable to the prop igation of doctrines more or
less democratical, but to the absence of moral and religious principles. What
will be gained by asserting that power comes from God, if people believe not
in God? Point out the sacred character of the duty of obedience, and what
effect will it produce upon those who admit not the existence of moral order,
and to whom duty is merely a chimerical idea? Suppose, on the contrary,
that you have to deal with men penetrated with moral and religious principles,
who bow to the will of God, and believe themselves bound to submit to it, so
soon as it is manifested to them. What does it matter then whether civil
power proceeds from God directly or indirectly? it is enough to convince them,
in one way or another, that, whatever be its origin, God approves of it, and
wills that it should be obeyed ; they will immediately submit with pleasure,
for they will see in this submission the accomplishment of a duty.

These considerations serve to explain the reason why certain doctrines appear
more dangerous now than formerly : incredulity and immorality give them
perverse interpretations, and apply them so as to create nothing but excesses
and disorders. From the manner in which the despotism of Philip II. and his
successors is now spoken of, we might be led to suppose that in their time nc
other doctrines than those in favor of the most rigid absolutism could be cir
culated ; and yet we find that there were circulated, without the least apprehen
sion on the part of power, works maintaining theories which, even in our days,
would be esteemed too bold. Is it not, therefore, remarkable, that the famous
book of Father Mariana, intituled De Reye ei Reyis institutione, which was
burned at Paris by the hand of the public executioner, had been published in
Spain eleven years before, without the least obstacle to its publication, either
on the part of the ecclesiastical or civil authority ? Mariana undertook his task
at the instigation and request of D. Garcia de Loaisa, tutor to Philip III., and
subsequently Bishop of Toledo ; so that the work, strange to say, was intended
for the instruction of the heir-apparent. Never was more freedom used in
speaking to kings; never was tyranny condemned in a louder voice; never
were more popular doctrines proclaimed; and the work was, nevertheless,
oublished at Toledo, in 1599, in the printing-office of Pedro Rodrigo, printer to
uhe king, with the approbation of P. Fr. Pedro de Ona, provincial of the Mer
cenaries of Madrid, with the permission of Stephen Hojeda, visitor of the
Society of Jesus in the province of Toledo, under the generalship of Claude
Aquaviva; and, what is still more forcible, with the royal sanction, and a
dedication to the king himself. We should also observe, that Mariana was not
satisfied with this dedication placed at the commencement of the book, but he
makes the very title itself serve to show to whom it was addressed : De Reye
tt Regis institutione. Libri 3, ad PJiilippum 3, Hispanice Reyem Catliolicum ;
and, as if this were not sufficient, in dedicating his Spanish version of the His
tory of Spain to Philip III., he says to him : " I last year dedicated to your
majesty a work of my own composition, upon the virtues which ought to exist
in a good king, my desire being that all princes should read it carefully and
understand it." "El ano pasado present^ d V. M. un libro que compuse de laa
virtudes que debe tener un uuen Key, que deseo lean y entiendan todos los
principes con cuidado."

We will pass over Iiis d^+rine upon tyrannicide, which was the principal
cause of its condemnation in France, where there existed, without doubt, mo
tives of alarm, since kings were perishing there by the hand cf the assassin.
On examining hif theory upon power, we find it as popular and liberal as those

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 312:

of modern democrats could be. Mariana ventures to express his opinions without
evasion or disguise. For example, drawing a parallel between the king ana
the tyrant, he says: "The king exercises wiih great moderation the powei

which he has received from his subjects Hence, he does not, like the

tyrant, oppress his subjects as slaves, but governs them as free men ; and having
received his power from the people, he takes particular care that during his
life, the people shall voluntarily yield him submission." "Rex quam a sul-

ditis accepit potestatem singular! modestia exercet Sic fit, ut subditis non

tanquam servis dominetur, quod fuciunt tyranni, sed tanquam liberis praesit, et
qui a populo potestatem accepit, id in primis curae habet ut per totam vitam
volentibus imperct." (Lib. 1, cap. 4, p. 57.) This was said in Spain by a
simple religious, was sanctioned by his superiors, and attentively listened to by
kings. To what grave reflections does this simple fact lead us ! Where is that
strict and indissoluble alliance which the enemies of the Church have imagined
to exist boi sveen her dogmas and those of slavery ? If such expressions as the
above were tolerated in a country in which Catholicity predominated so exten
sively, how can it be maintained that such a religion tends to enslave the
human race, and that its doctrines are favorable to despotism ? Nothing would
be easier than to fill whole volumes with remarkable passages of our writers,
both lay and clerical, showing the extreme liberty granted upon this point, ag
well by the Church as by the civil government. What absolute monarch in
Europe would approve of one of his high functionaries expressing the origin
of power after the manner of our immortal Saavedra ? " It is from the centre
' of justice," says he, "that the circumference of the crown has been drawn. The
latter would not be necessary, if we could dispense with the former.

Hac una reges olim sunt fine creati,
Dicere jus pcpulis, injustaque tollere facta.

In the first age, there was no necessity for penalties, because the law did not
take cognisance of transgressions ; rewards were equally unnecessary, because
integrity and honor were loved for their own sakes. But vice, growing with
the age of the world, intimidated virtue ; simple and confiding, the latter, till
then, dwelt in the country. Equality was despised, modesty and chastity lost,
ambition and force introduced, and after them domination. Prudence, forced
by necessity, and aroused by the light of nature, reduced men to a state of civil
society, to exercise therein those virtues to which reason inclines them. By
means of the articulate voice with which nature had gifted them, they could
explain to oach other their mutual thoughts, manifest to each other their sen
timents, and explain their wants, instruct, counsel, and protect each other.
Society once formed, a power was created by common consent, in the whole of this
community, enlightened by the law lof nature, for preserving its different parts, for
maintaining them in justice and peace, by punishing vice and rewarding virtue.
As tills poxer could not remain spread through the whole body of the people ; on
account of the confusion which would have arisen from the resolutions and their
execution, and as it was absolutely necessary that there should be some to com
mand, and others to obey, one portion divested itself of this power, and vested it
in one member, or in a small, or in a great, number of members, that is to sayy
in one of the three forms of every state government — monarchy, aristocracy, or
democracy. Monarchy was the first ; because men selected for their govern •
ment, out of their families, and afterwards even from among the whole people,
some one who excelled the rest in goodness : his greatness increasing, they
hcnored his hand with the sceptre, and encircled his head with a crown as an
emblem of majesty, and as a badge of the supreme power which they had con-
ferred upon him. This power, however, consists chiefly in that justice which
-night to maintain the people in peace; this justice Jilting, the order of the staff

40 2B

214 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED "WITH CATHOLICITY.

/nils, and the office of king ceases, as was the case in Castile, when the govern
ment by judges was substituted for that by kings, on account of the injustice
of D. Ordona and of D. Fruela." (Character of a Christian Prince's Policy, set
forth in a hundred Devices, by I). Diego de Saavedra FajarciD, Knight of the
Order of St. James, Member of his Majesty's Supreme Council for the Indies,
device 22.)

The v^Drds people, pact, consent, have ended in becoming the dread ,of men of
sound ideas and upright intentions, on account of the deplorable abuses which
have been made of them in those immoral schools which ought rather to be
qualified with the epithet of irreligious than with that of democratical. No, it
was not the desire of ameliorating the condition of the people which led them
*,o overthrow the world, by overturning thrones and shedding torrents of blood
in civil discord; the real cause was a blind rage for reducing to ashes the work
of ages, by especially attacking religion, the main support of every thing wise,
just, and salutary, that European civilization had acquired. And, in fact, have
we not seen impious schools, whilst boasting of their liberty, bend under the
hand of despotism, whenever they thought it useful to their designs ? Previous
to the French Revolution, were they not the basest adulators of kings, whose
prerogatives they extended immeasurably, with the intention of making regal
power the means of oppressing the Church ? After the revolutionary epoch,
did we not see them assembled round Napoleon ; and even yet, do they not
almost deify him ? And why ? Because Napoleon was revolution personified,
the representative and executor of the new ideas sought to be substituted for
the old ones. In the same manner Protestantism extols its Queen Elizabeth ;
because it was she who placed the Establishment upon a solid foundation.
Revolutionary doctrines, besides the evils they inflict upon society, produco
indirectly another effect, which may, at first sight, appear salutary, but which,
in reality, is not so. They occasion dangerous reactions in the order of events,
and check the progress of knowledge, by narrowing and debasing men's ideas,
leading them to condemn as erroneous and pernicious, or to view with mistrust,
principles which would previously have been looked upon as sound, or that
would, at all events, have been regarded as mere harmless errors. The rea
son of all this is, simply, that liberty has no worse enemy than licentiousness.

In support of this last observation, it may be well to show, that the most
rigorous doctrines in political matters have originated in countries in which
anarchy had made the greatest ravages, and precisely at the time when the evil,
still present, or very recent, was most keenly felt. The religious revolution of
the sixteenth century, and the political commotions consequent upon it, were
principally felt in the north of Europe ; the south, and especially Italy and
Spain, were almost entirely preserved from them. Now, these last two coun
tries are precisely those in which the dignities and prerogatives of civil power
have been the least exaggerated, as well as those in which they were not dis
paraged in theory, and were respected in practice. Of all modern nations,
England was the first in which a revolution, properly so called, was realized)
for I do not consider as such the insurrection of the German peasantry, which,
in spite of the terrible catastrophe which it caused, never effected any change ill
the state of society ; or that of the United Provinces, which may be considered
a war of independence. Now, it was precisely in England that the most erro
neous doctrines in favor of the supreme authority of civil power appeared.
Hobbes, who, whilst he refused to allow the rights of the Creator, attributed
unbounded authority to the monarchs of the earth; lived at the most agitated
and turbulent epoch in the annals of Great Britain. He was born in 1588, and
died in 1679.

In Spain, where the impious and anarchical doctrines, which had troubled
Europe since the schism of Luther, did not penetrate until the latter part of the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. HIT

eighteenth century, we have seen that the greatest license of express! n waa
permitted upon the most important points of public right, and that doctrines
were maintained which, in any other country, would have been looked upon as
dangerous. Error gave rise to exaggeration; the rights of monarchs were'
never so much extolled as under the reign of Charles III.; that is, at the time
when the modern epoch was inaugurated among us.

Religion, which predominated in all consciences, maintained them in the obe
dience due to the sovereign, without there being any need of giving this obedi
ence any extraordinary titles, when its real ones were sufficient, as they cer
tainly were. For him who knows that God has prescribed obedience to lawful
authority, it matters little whether this authority emanate from Heaven directly
or indirectly, or whether society has more or less taken part in the determina
tion of political forms, or iu the election of the persons or families who are to
exercise the supreme command. Hence we find that in Spain, although the
words people, consent, poets, were spoken of, monarchs were held in the most
profound veneration, so much so that modern history does not mention a single
attempt upon their persons. Popular tumults were also of rare occurrence ; and
those which did happen are not attributable to either of the two above-men
tioned doctrines. How does it happen that, at the end of the sixteenth century,
the Council of Castile was not alarmed at the bold principles of Mariana, in hia
book De Reye tt. Reyis institutione,' whilst those of the Abbe" Spedalieri, at the
end of the eighteenth century, were such a terror to it ? The reason of this liea
not so much in the contents of the works, as in the epoch of their publication.
The former appeared at a time when the Spanish nation, confirmed in religious
and moral principles, might be compared to those robust constitutions capable
of bearing food difficult of digestion. The latter was introduced among us when
the doctrines and deeds of the French Revolution were shaking all the thrones
of Europe, and when the propagandism of Paris was beginning to pervert us by
its emissaries and books. In a nation in which reason and virtue prevail, in
which evil passions are never excited, in which the well-being and prosperity
of the country are the only aim of every citizen, the most popular and liberal
forms of government may exist without danger ; for in such a nation numerous
assemblies produce no disorder, merit is not obscured by intrigue, nor are
worthless persons raised to the government, and the names of public liberty and
felicity do not serve as means to raise the fortunes or satisfy the ambition of
individuals. So also in a country in which religion and morality rule in every
breast, in which duty is not looked upon as an empty word, in which it is con
sidered really criminal to disturb the tranquillity of the state, to revolt against
the lawful authorities : in such a country, I say, it is less dangerous to discuss,
with more or less freedom, questions arising from theories on the formation
of society and the origin of the civil power, and to establish principles favorable
to popular rights. But when these conditions do not exist, it is of little use to
proclaim rigorous doctrines. To abstain from pronouncing the name of people,
as a sacrilegious^word, is a useless precaution. How can it be expected, that
he who respects not Divine Majesty, should respect human ? The conservative
schools of our age, proposing to place a restraint upon the revolutionary torrent,
and to tranquillize agitated nations, have almost always been infected with a
certain failing, which consists in forgetting the truth which I have just noticed:
r^yal majesty, authority of the government, supremacy of the law, parliamentary
sovereignty, respect for established forms, and order: such are the terms they
are constantly making use of. This is their palladium of society ; and they
condemn with all their might the state, insubordination, disobedience to the laws,
insurrection, riot, anarchy; but they forget that these doctrines will not suffice,
unless there be seme fixed point to which the first link of the chain may be
riveted. These schools, generally speaking, originate in the bosom of re 7olu

^6 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

ion; tLoy are directed by men who have figured in revolutions, who have coh
tributed to prepare them, who have given them their force, and who, in ordei
to attain the object of their ardent desires, feared not to ruin the edifice at its
foundation, by diminishing the ascendency of religion and opening the way to
moral relaxation. Hence they become powerless when prudence, or their own
interests, bid them say, "We have y one far enough;" and, hurried on like the
rest by the furious whirlwind, they have neither the means of stopping the
movement nor of giving it a proper direction.

We are continually hearing the Contrat Social of Rousseau condemned c«
account of its anarchical doctrines, whilst at the same time doctrines are circu
lated tending visibly to weaken religion. Can we possibly believe that the Con
trat Social has alone caused all the commotions of Europe ? It has doubtless
produced serious evils, but still more serious ones have been caused by that irre-
ligion which so deeply undermines the foundations of society, which loosens
family bonds, and delivers up the individual to the caprice of his passions, with
no other restraint or guide than the promptings of his own low egotism. ' Men
of upright and reflecting minds begin to penetrate these truths. We find, never
theless, in the political sphere, this error, which attributes to the action of civil
government sufficient creative power to form, organize, and preserve society
independently of all moral and religious influences. It is of little consequence
what be maintained in theory, -if this error be acted upon in practice; and what
avails the proclaiming of certain sound principles, if our conduct is not guided
by them? These philosophico-political schools, which are desirous of ruling
'.he destinies of the world, proceed in a way diametrically opposite to that of
Christianity. The latter, whose principal object was heaven, did not, however,
neglect the happiness of man upon earth ; it addressed itself directly to the
understanding and the heart, considering that the community is regulated by the
conduct of individuals, and that, in order to have a well-regulated society, it was
necessary to have good citizens. To proclaim certain political principles, to
institute particular forms— such is the panacea of some schools, who deem it
possible to govern society without exercising a due influence over the intelli
gence and heart of man ; reason and experience agree in teaching us what we
may expect from such a system.

Profoundly to impress the minds of men with religion and morality,— this is
the first step towards the prevention of revolutions and disorganization. When
these sacred objects have acquired their full influence over the hearts of men,
there is no longer any thing to be apprehended from a greater or less latitude
in political opinions. What confidence can a government repose in a man pro
fessing highly monarchical opinions, if he join impiety to them ? Will he who
refuses to give to God his rights, respect those of temporal kings ? " The first
thing," says Seneca, "is the worship of the gods, and faith ia their existence;
we are next to acknowledge their majesty, and bounty, without which there is
10 majesty." « Primum est Deorum cultus, Deos eredere ; deinde reddere illia
majestatem suam, reddere bonitatem, sine qua imlla majestas est." (Seneca,
Observe how Cicero, the first orato» and perhaps the greatest phi-
losopner of Rome, expresses himself: "It is necessary," says he, "that the
citizens should be first persuaded of the existence of gods, the directors and
rulers of all things, in whose hands are all events, who are ever conferring on
mankind immense benefits, who search the hrart of man, who see his actions,
the spirit of piety which he carries into the practice of religion, and who distin
guish the life of the pious from that of the ungodly man." " Sit igitur jam hoc
a prmcifo persuasum civibus, dominos esse omnium rerum, ac moderators
ieos ; eaque quae gerantur, eorum geri ditione ac nurnine, eosdemque optima
ie geoere hruiinuir mereri, et qualis quisque sit, quid agat, quid iude admittat.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 317

qua mente, qua pietate colat religiones intueri : piorumquc et impiorum habere
rationera." (Cic. <le Nat Deor. 2.)

These truths should be profoundly impressed upon the mind : the evils Oi
society do not principally emanate from political ideas or systems ; the root *•'
the evil lies in religion ; and if a check is not put upon irreligion, it is vain U
proclaim the most rigid monarchical principles. Hobbes did certainly flatter
kings a little more than Bellarmin ; and yet, when these two writers are com
pared, what sensible monarch would not prefer as a subject the learned and
pious controvertist ? (30)

CHAPTER LIIL

ON THE FACULTIES OF THE CIVIL POWER.

HAVING shown that the Catholic doctrine upon the origin of the civil power
does not include any thing but what is perfectly reasonable and reconcilable
with the true interests of the people, let us discuss the second of ^the proposed
questions. Let us inquire into the nature of the faculties of this power, and
see whether under this" aspect the Church teaches any thing favorable to despot-
ism — to that oppression of which she is so calumniously accused of being a sup-
porter. We invite our opponents to demonstrate the contrary, fully confident
that they will find it more difficult to succeed in so doing, than to accumulate
vague accusations, which serve only to lead too confiding minds astray. To
sustain these charges properly, recourse should be had to texts of Scripture, to
tradition, to the decisions of Councils, or to those of Supreme Pontiffs, to pas
sages of the Fathers ; and it should be shown that these immoderately extend
the bounds of power, with the design of placing undue restraint upon the liberty
of the people, or of destroying it. But it will be said, if the sources retained
their purity, the streams have been polluted by commentators ; in other terms,
theologians of latter ages, becoming the adulators of civil power, have power
fully labored to extend its faculties, and, consequently, to establish despotism
As many persons too readily claim the right of criticizing the doctors of what
is termed the period of decline, flippantly censuring those illustrious men, with
out having ever taken the trouble to open their works, it is necessary for us to
enter into some details on this subject, and to dispel prejudices and errors which
are seriously injurious to religion, and not less so to science.

The declamations and invectives of Protestants have induced certain minds to
imagine that every idea of liberty would have disappeared from the heart of
Europe, had it not been for the timely intervention of the pretended Reforma
tion of the sixteenth century. According to this idea, Catholic theologians are
represented as a crowd of ignorant monks, capable only of writing, in bad lan
guage and in still worse style, a heap of nonsense, the ultimate and only aim of
which was to exalt the authority of Popes and kings, and to support intellectua1
and political oppression, obscurantism, and tyranny. That a portion should
become the victim of illusion in matters the investigation of which is difficult
and arduous ; that the reader should suffer himself to be deceived by a writer on
whose word he must either rely or remain in complete ignorance, — as, for example,
in the description of a country or a phenomenon examined only by the narrator,

is nothing strange ; but that any one should adhere to errors which a few

moments spent in the most obscure library would eradicate, that the authors^ of
the brilliant volumes' of Paris should have the privilege of disfiguring with im
punity the opinions of a writer lying covered with dust and forgotten in tho
same library, and perhaps on the same shelf upon which the former glitter; that
the reader should peruse with avidity the glossy pages of the newly-published

318 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

work, filling his mind with the writer's notions, without evsn so much as putV.ug
forth his hand to the voluminous tome within his reach, and which needs only
to be opened to furnish at every page a refutation of the censures in which
levity, if not bad faith, is so ready to indulge ; is difficult to be conceived or
excused in any man professing to be a lover of science, and a conscientious
investigator of truth. A great number of writers would assuredly not be so
ready and free to speak of what they have never studied, to analyze books which
they have never read, if they did not reckon upon the docility and levity :f
their readers; they would certainly refrain from pronouncing magisterially upon
an opinion, a system, or a school, in fine, upon the labors of many ages, from
deciding the gravest questions by a sally of wit, if they found that the reader,
seized in his turn with distrust, and particularly with the skepticism of the period,
would not place implicit faith in their assertions, but would take the trouble to
confront them with the facts to which they relate.

Our ancestors did not consider themselves justified, I will not say in making
an assertion, but even a single allusion, without giving careful references to the
source of their information. Their delicacy on this point was carried to excess;
but we have done wrong by going to the opposite extreme, and judging that we
tnight dispense with all formality, even in the most important matters which
imperiously demand the testimony of facts. But the opinions of ancient writers
are facts, facts averred in their writings. By judging them hastily, without
entering into details, without imposing upon ourselves the obligation of quoting
authorities, we incur the suspicion of falsifying history, and history, I repeat,
the most precious, that of the human mind. The levity observable in certain
writers proceeds, in a great measure, from the character which science has
assumed in our days. There is no longer any particular science, but only a
general one, embracing them all, and including in its immense circle all branches
of knowledge. Consequently, minds of ordinary capacity are obliged to remain
satisfied with vague notions, unfortunately only serving to stimulate abstraction
and universality. Never was knowledge so much generalized as now, and never
was it more difficult to obtain deserved renown for wisdom. In every aspirant
to scientific excellence the state of science requires a laborious activity in the
acquisition of knowledge, profound reflection to regulate and direct it, a com
prehensive and penetrating view to simplify and concentrate it, an intellect of a
high order, elevating him to the regions in which science has established her
ahode. How many men are endowed with these qualifications? But let us
revert to the subject.

Catholic theologians are so far from favoring despotism, that I doubt much
whether it would be possible to find better books than theirs for enabling us to
form clear and just ideas of the faculties of power. I will even add that, gene
rally speaking, they incline, in a very remarkable manner, to the development
of true liberty. The great type of theological schools, the model to the con
templation of which they have constantly turned during several centuries, are
the works of St. Thomas of Aquin ; and we may with full confidence defy our
opponents to find us a jurist or philosopher who expounds with more lucidity,
wisdom, noble independence, and generous dignity, the principles to which civil
power ought to adhere. His Treatise upon Laws is immortal, and whoever has
fully comprehended it has no further information to acquire respecting the great
principles which ought to guide the legislator. You think lightly of past times,
imagining that till now nothing was known of politics or public right ; and in
your imagination you invent an incestuous alliance between religion and despot
ism, fancying you have discovered in the distant obscurity of the cloister, the
plot contrived by this infamous pact. But have you heard the opinion of a reli
gious of the thirteenth century upon the nature of law ? You already imagine
tfiat you see in his ideas force dominating over all, and constantly invoking

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WI1 H CATHOLICITY H Ifi

religion the better to disguise his rude snares with a few falsehood i. L'c-arn
then, that you could not yourself have given a milder definition of .aw. You
would never have thought, as he has done, of excluding from it the idea, of force ;
you could never have conceived how, in so few words, he has managed to say
all, and with such exactitude, such lucidity, in terms so favorable to the true
liberty of the people and to the dignity of man. The definition here spoken of
beiug the summary of his entire doctrine, and at the same time the guide which
has directed theologians, may be considered as an abridgment of theological
doctrines in their relation to the faculties of civil power. It presents to us at a
single glance what wers, in this point of view, the predominating principles'
among Catholics.

Civil power acts upon society through the medium of the law ; and, accord
ing to St. Thomas, the law is, "a rule dictated by reason, the aim of which ii>
the public good, and promulgated by him who has the care of society." " Quse-
dam rationis ordinatio ad bonum commune, et ab eo qui curam communitatir1,
habet promulgata." (1, 2, qusest. 90, art. 4.) A rule dictated by reason,
rationis ordinatio. Here by one word despotism and force are banished ; here
is the principle that the law is not a pure effect of the will. The celebrated
maxim, Quod principi placuit legis habet vigorcm, is here corrected. Although
capable of a reasonable and just interpretation, this maxim was, nevertheless,
incorrect, and inclined to flattery. A celebrated writer of our days has devoted
numerous pages to proving that legitimacy has not its origin in the will of man,
but in reason, inferring from this that what ought to command men is not in
the will of another man, but reason. With much less pomp, but not less solidity
and conciseness, the holy Doctor expresses this idea in the words above quoted,
rationis ordinatio. On reflection we find that despotism, arbitrary power, and
tyranny are nothing else than the absence of reason in power, the domination
of the will. When reason commands, there is legitimacy, justice, liberty ;
when the will alone commands, there is illegitimacy, injustice, despotism. Hence
the fundamental idea of all law is, that it be in accordance with reason, that it
be an emanation from reason, an application of reason to society; and the will,
in giving its sanction to law and carrying it into execution, should be merely
auxiliary to reason, its instrument, its arm.

It is evident that, without the action of the will, there is no law ; for acts of
pure reason, without the co-operation of the will, are thoughts and not com
mands. They enlighten the mind, but do not produce action. It is, therefore,
impossible to conceive the existence of law without the combined operation of
the will and of reason. But this is no reason why we should not consider ;«11
law to have a rational foundation and to be conformable to reason, that it n- r
merit the name of law. These observations have not escaped the penetrati i
of the holy Doctor; he examines them, and dispels the error of believing that
the law consists in the mere will of the prince. He expresses himself as fol
lows: "Reason receives its motive power from the will, as we have observed
above (qusest. 17, art. 1 ;) for whilst the will seeks the end, reason enjoins the
means of its attainment; but the will, to have the force of law, must be guided
by reason. In this sense only can the will of a sovereign be said to have the
force of law; in any other sense it would not be law, but injustice." " Rtitio
habet vim movendi a voluntate, ut supra dictum est. (Quaest. 17, art. 1.) Ex
hoc enim quod aliquis vult finem, ratio imperat de his quse sunt ad finem, sed
voluntas de his quae imperantur, ad hoc quod legis rationem habeat, oportet quod
sit aliqua ratione regulata; et hoc modo intelligitur quod voluntae principis
habet vigorem legis; alioquin voluntas principis magisesset iniqi.itas quam ley.'
(Qusest. 90, art. 1.)

These doctrines of St. Thomas are the same as those of all th jologians. Im
partiality and good sense will tell us whether they are favorab'e to absolutism

820 I'ROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

and despotism, whether they are in any way opposed to true liberty, whether
they are not eminently conformable to the dignity of man. These doctrine*
form the.most explicit and conclusive proclamation of the limits of civil power,,
ana they certainly have in this respect more weight tl^an the dtclarations of
imprescriptible rights. That which humbles man, wounds in him the
feeling of a just independence, and introduces despotism into the world, is the
will of man commanding and exacting submission merely because it is his will ;
but by submitting to reason, being guided by her dictates, we are not degraded;
on the contrary, we are elevated, we are dignified, for we live conformably to
eternal order and to the divine will. The obligation of being subject to the
law does not originate in the will of another, but in reason. Theologians, how
ever, have not considered the latter of itself sufficient to command. They de
rive the sanction of the law from a higher source ; when the conscience of man
was to be acted upon, to be bound by duty, they could find nothing in the
sphere of created things capable of attaining so high an object. " Human
laws, if they are just," says the holy Doctor, "'are binding in conscience, and
they derive their power from the eternal law, from which they are formed, ac
cording to what is said in Proverbs, chap, viii., ' By Me kings reign, and the
lawgivers decree just things/ " " Si quiderii justae sunt, habent vim obligandi
in foro conscientiae a lege eterna, a qua derivantur, secundum illud Proverb,
cap. 8, per me reges regnant, et legum conditores justa deccrnuut." (1, '2,
quaest. 96, art. 3.) This proves, according to St. Thomas, that just law is
derived not exactly from human reason, but from the eternal law ; and that
this is what makes it binding upon conscience.

This is doubtless more philosophical than to seek the obligatory force of laws
111 private reason, in pacts, or in the general will. In this manner the titles,
the true titles of humanity are explained, a reasonabie limit is placed upon
civil power, and obedience is easily obtained ; the rights and duties of govern
ments, as well as those of subjects, are established upon solid and indestructible
foundations; the nature of power, society, command, and obedience become
perfectly comprehensible. It is no longer the will of one man predominating
over that of his fellow-man ; it is not his reason, but reason emanating from
God, or more properly speaking the reason of Grod, the eternal law, God Him
self. A sublime theory, in which power finds its rights, its duties, its force,
its authority, its prestige, and in which society possesses its safest guarantee of
order,' well-being, and true liberty; a theory which divests authority of the
will of man, since it changes this will into an instrument of the eternal law.
into a divine ministry, whose aim is the public <jood, ad ban um commune. This,
according to St. Thomas, is also one of the essential conditions of law. It has
been asked, Whether kings are made for the people, or the people for kings?
Such a question could only arise from a want of due reflection upon the nature
of society, its object, and its origin, and upon the intent of power. The con
cise expression above cited, ad bonum commune, is a fitting answer to this
question. " Laws," says the holy Doctor, " may be unjust in two ways; either
by being opposed to the commonweal, or by having an improper aim, as when
a government imposes upon its subjects onerous laws> which do not serve the
common interest, but rather cupidity and ambition. Such laws are rather in
justices than laws." "Injustoe autem sunt leges dupliciter; uno modo per
contrarietatem ad bonum commune, e contrario prasdictis ; vel ex fine, sicut cum
aliquis praesidens leges imponit, onerosas subditis nou pertineutes ad utilitatem

communem, sed magis ad propriam cupiditatem vel gloriam : Et

hujusmodi magis sunt violentiae quam leges." (1, 2, q. 96, art. 4.) From
this doctrine it Allows, that command must be exercised for the well-being of
all; and, failing m this condition, it is unjust: governors are invested with it
only for th« advantage of the governed. Kings are not, as some philosophers,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 321

regardless of the most palpable inconsistencies, have absurdly maintained, the
slaves of their people ; neither is their power a simple commission without an j
real authority, and continually subject to the caprice of their people ; but, ut
the same time, the people are not the property of their kings. The latter can,
by no r?eans, consider their subjects as slaves, to be disposed of at their free
will : g : rernments are not, by any means, the absolute arbiters of the lives and
fortunes of the governed ; they are bound to watch over them, not as a master
over slaves from whom he derives profit, but as a father over the son whom he
loves and whose happiness he has at heart.

" The kingdom is not made for the king, but the king for the kingdom," says
the holy Doctor, from whom I continue to quote ; and, in a style remarkable
for its force and freedom, he continues as follows : " for God has constituted
kings to rule and govern, and to secure to every one the possession of his
rights; such is the aim of their institution; but if kings, turning things to their
own profit, should act otherwise, they are no longer kings, but tyrants." (D.
Th. de Rey. Princ. cap. 11.) From this doctrine it is evident, that the people
are not made for kings; that the subject is not made for the ruler; but that all
governments have been established for the good of society, and that this alone
should be the compass to guide those who are in command, whatever be the
form of government From the president of the most insignificant republic to
the most powerful monarch, none are exempt from this law ; for it is a law an
terior to society, — a law which presided at the formation of society, and wind-
is superior to human law, inasmuch as it emanates from the Author of all so
ciety, from the source of all law.

No, the people are not made for kings ; kings are all appointed for the good
of the people : and if this object is not accomplished, the government is. use
less; and this affects the republic as well as the monarchy. To flatter kings
with opposite maxims is to ruin them. Religion has not, at any time, dont
this; this was not the language of those illustrious men who, clothed in tht
sacerdotal habit, delivered to the powerful ones of the earth the messages of
Heaven. " Kings, princes, magistrates," cries out the venerable Palafox, " all
jurisdiction is ordained by God for the preservation of His people, not for their
destruction ; for defence, not for offence; for man's right, and not for his injury.
They who maintain that kings can do as they please, and who establish their
power upon their will, open the way to tyranny. Those who maintain that
kings have power to do as they ought, and what is necessary for the preserva
tion of their subjects and of their crowns, for the exaltation of faith and reli
gion, for the just and right administration of justice, the preservation of peace
and the support of just war, for the due and becoming eclat of regal dignity,
the honorable maintenance of their houses and families, speak the truth with
out flattery, throw open the gates to justice, and to magnanimous and royal
virtues." (Hist* Real. Sagrada, lib. i. cap. 11.) When Louis XIV. said, "I
am the state/' he had not learned this maxim either from Bossuet, Bourdaloue,
or Masillon, Pride, exalted by so much grandeur and power, auu infatuated
by base adulatorsj was here ' speaking by his mouth. How unsearchable are
the ways of Providence ! The corpse of this man, who said he was the state,
wa insulted at his funeral ; and, before the lapse of a century, his grandson
Buffered death on the scaffold ! Thus the crimes of families are expiated, as
well as those of nations. When the measure of His indignation is filled up,
the Lord reminds terrified man that the God of mercy is likewise a God of
vengeance, and that} as He opened upon the world the floodgates of heaven, so
also He lets loose upon kings and nations the tempests of revolution. When
once the rights and duties of power are founded upon a base as solid as that of
their divine origin, when once they become established by a rule as exalted as
that of the eternal law, there is no longer any necessity for extolling or exag-

822 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

gerating powei, nor of attributing to it faculties to which it has no claim; «nd,
on the other hand, it is no longer necessary to exaci from it the fulfilment of
its obligations with that imperious haughtiness which enervates by humiliating
it. Flattery and menace become alike needless when there are other resources
for exciting it to action, and other barriers for restraining it within due bounds.
The statue of the king, it is true, is not set up in the public squares as an ob
ject for the people's adoration ; but, on the other hand, the king is no longer
placed at the mercy of democrats, soon to become an object of mockery and
derision, the contemptible laughing-stock of demagogues.

Observe the moderation and mildness of the definition we have just ana
lysed ! It does not contain a single word which can wound the most delicate
susceptibility of the most ardent partisans of public liberty. The law, accord
ing to this definition, consists in the rule of reason ; the common weal is its
only aim ; and when the authority of him who promulgates and executes it is
spoken of, there is no mention made of any sovereignty, no expression is used
indicative of slavish subjection, the most measured term which it was possible
to select is made use of — care: Qui CURAM communitatis habei. Bear in mind,
that the author here quoted is accustomed to weigh his words like precioua
metal, and to employ them with the most scrupulous delicacy, pausing a long
time, when necessary, to explain any that may present the least ambiguity, and
you will then understand what ideas this great man entertained upon power;
you will discover whether the spirit of oppressive doctrines could have pre
vailed in the Catholic schools, in which this Doctor was, and is still, acknowl
edged as an almost infallible oracle.

Compare the definition given by St. Thomas, and adopted by all theologians,
with that which Rousseau has given. In that of St Thomas, law is the ex
pression of reason ; in that of Rousseau, the expression of will : in the former,
it is an application of the eternal law ; in the latter, the product of general will.
On which side are wisdom and good sense ? Law was understood among the
nations of Europe as it is explained by St. Thomas and all the Catholic schools ;
and tyranny was banished from Europe, Asiatic despotism was impossible, the
admirable institution of European monarchy was established. At a later
period, Rousseau's explanation was adopted, and then came the Convention,
with its scaffolds and its horrors.

Publicists have already nearly abandoned the theory of " a general will;"
and even those who contend for the sovereignty of the people, do not maintain
that the will of all the citizens should constitute the law. The law, say they,
is not the expression of general will, but of general reason. The philosopher
of Geneva would have the will of individuals collected, the aggregate of which
he termed the general will. In like manner, the publicists of whom we are
speaking are of opinion that it is necessary to collect, amongst the governed,
the greatest amount of reason, and to give this to the government for its
guidance, the governing body being merely an instrument for the application
of it. It is not men who v immand, say they, but the law ; and the law is
nothing else than reason and justice.

This theory, so far as it is correct, and apart from the applications which
might be made of it, is not a discovery of modern science ; it is a traditional
principle of all Europe, which presided at the formation of society, and has
given to civil power an organisation differing widely from those of antiquity,
and equally so from those of modern times that have not participated in oui
civilisation. This, on close examination, appears to be the reason why Euro
pean monarchies, even the most absolute, have been so very different from the
Asiatic. A singular phenomenon : at the very time when society among ua
had no legal guarantees against the power of kings, it still had other very for-
uibie ones which were purely moral. Modern science cannot, therefore, claim

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 822

the discovery of a new principle of government; it has unknowingly resus
citated the ancient one. By rejecting the doctrine of Rousseau, instead of
making, according to the vulgar expression, a step in advance, it retrograded ;
but to retrograde is not always to lose an advantage. What is or can be lost
by receding from the brink of a precipice to enter upon a safe road ? Rous
seau complains, and with reason, that certain writers have so far exaggerated
the prerogatives of civil power, as to convert mankind into a common herd, of
which rulers could dispose to serve their interest or caprice. Such reproaches,
however, cannot be applied to the Catholic Church, nor to any of the- illus
trious schools sheltered in her bosom. The philosopher of Geneva makes a
severe attack upon Hobbes and Grotius for having maintained this servile doc-
trine. Catholics have nothing to do with the cause of these two writers. I
will observe, however, that it would not be just to place the latter upon a pa
rallel with the former. Grotius has certainly afforded reason for the accusa
tion. He maintains that there are cases in which governments are not for the
benefit of the governed, but for that of the governing powers. " Sic imperia
quaedam esse possunt comparata ad regum utilitatcm." (De. Jure Belli et
Pads, lib. i. cap. 3.) But, whilst we acknowledge that this principle has a
dangerous tendency, we grant that the doctrines of the Dutch writer do not
upon the whole tend to the total ruin of morality.

By rendering Grotius his due share of justice, we prevent any exaggeration
of the evil which may exist on the side of our opponents ; it must now be per
mitted to Catholic hearts to remark with noble satisfaction, that such doctrines
could never be established amongst the professors of the true faith, and that
the fatal maxims which lead to oppression have originated precisely among
those who have deviated from the teaching of the Chair of St. Peter. No ;
Catholics have never brought under discussion whether kings have an unlimited
power over the lives and fortunes of their subjects, to such a degree as to ad
mit of no opposition, whatever be the excess of the absolutism and despotism
exercised over them. Whenever flattery raised its voice to exaggerate the
royal prerogative, this voice was immediately silenced )>y the unanimous out-
cry of the supporters of sound doctrine. Witness the remarkable example oi
a solemn retractation imposed by the tribunal of the Inquisition upon a
preacher who had exceeded his bounds. Not so in England, a country pro
verbial for its hatred of Catholicity. Whilst here, in Spain, it was forbidden
under a severe penalty to circulate maxims so degrading, in England the
question was proposed with the greatest gravity, and writers upon law were
divided in their sentiments. (See end of chapter 39.)

Every impartial reader has already been able to form an opinion on the value
of declamations against the right divine, and on that pretended affinity of Ca
tholic doctrines with despotism and slavery. The exposition of these doctrines
which I have just given is certainly not founded upon vain reasoning, sought
out on purpose to darken the question. I have not in any way shunned the
difficulty.

The question was, to know in what these doctrines consisted. I have shown
clearly, that those who calumniate them do not understand them, and that we
may even be allowed to suppose *hat they have never taken the trouble to ex
amine them, such is the levity and ignorance with which they express them
selves. Perhaps I have adduced too many facts and quotations; but let the
reader bear in mind, that my object is not to present him with a code of doc
trines, but to give to this point of doctrine an historical investigation. Now,
history does not call for discourses, but facts; and in matters of doctrine, the
sentiments of authors are facts. Whilst beholding the salutary reaction now
taking place in favour of sound principles, let us avoid giving an incom,.jete
•tatement of the truth. For the cause of religion it is higHy important thai

324 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

its advocates should be free from even the most re note suspicion of dishonest}
or dissimulation. On this account, I have, without hesitation, given in theii
integrity the doctrines laid down by Catholic writers, just as I find them in
their works. By misrepresenting and confounding facts, Protestants and un
believers have succeeded in deceiving; let me hope that, by explaining and
elucidating them, I shall not be unsuccessful in removing the deception.

I purpose examining, in the remaining part of this work, some other ques
tions relating to the same subject — questions perhaps n' t more important, but
certainly more delicate. And for this reason, I was obliged to smooth the way,
that I might proceed with more liberty and ease. I have hitherto made the
cause of religion defend itself with its own weapons, without borrowing the
support of auxiliaries which were superfluous. I shall proceed in the same
course., fully convinced that Catholicity can only lose by any line of vindica
tion that identifies it with political interests, and confines it within a circle too
limited for its immensity. Empires appear and disappear ; the Church of Christ
will last till the end of time. Political opinions undergo changes and modi
fications ; the august dogmas of our religion remain immutable. Thrones rise
and fall ; and the rock upon which Jesus Christ has built His Church stands
unshaken throughout the course of time, ever defying the powers of hell. When
we take up arms in her defence, let us be impressed with the importance of our
mission ; let there be no exaggeration, no flattery — the pure truth in measured,
but accurate and firm language. In addressing ourselves to the people, in
proclaiming the truth to kings, let us bear in mind that religion is above poli
tics, and God above kings and people

CHAPTER LIV.

ON RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER.

THE doctrines of Catholicity, therefore, in reference both to the origin and
the exercise of civil power, are unobjectionable. Let us now proceed to another
point — one of greater delicacy and difficulty, if not of more importance. To
state the question frankly, without any subterfuge or evasion : " Is it allowable
in any case to resist the civil power ?" It is impossible to speak more distinctly,
or to employ more precise and simple terms in stating this question, which is
the most important, the most difficult, and the most startling of any that the
subject we have in hand presents for our investigation. We know that Pro
testantism from its commencement proclaimed the right of insurrection against
civil power; and no one is ignorant of the fact that Catholicity has ever
preached up obedience to this power ; so that if the former has been from its
infancy an element of revolution and of overthrow, the latter has been an ele
ment of tranquillity and good order. This distinction might induce us to be
lieve that Catholicity favors oppression, since it leaves the people without
arms to defend their liberty. " You preach up obedience to the civil powers,"
our adversaries will say; "you pronounce, in all cases, an anathema upon any
insurrection which attacks them ; should tyranny prevail, therefore, you .be
come its most powerful auxiliaries ; for, by your doctrine, you arrest the arm
ready to be raised in defence of liberty ; you stifle with the cry of conscience
the indignation awakened in generous hearts." This is a serious charge, which
compels us to elucidate, as far as possible, this important point, and to distin
guish in it truth from error, certainty from doubt.

Some men would shrink from the investigation of such questions, and prefer
drawing a veil over them — a veil which they venture not to raise, lest they
should find an abyss. And assuredly their timidity is not inexcusable : for

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 325

there are abysses unfathomable, and dangers that strike the mind with awe
One false step may lead to destruction ; one move in a wrong direction may
let loose tempests that would lay society in ruins. Whilst, however, I willingly
admit the pure intentions of such persons, I may be permitted to observe, that
their prudence is quite thrown away, that their foresight and precaution are
of no avail. Whether they investigate these questions or not, they are inves
tigated, agitated, and decided, in a manner that we must deplore ; and, worse
still, the theories thence arising have been reduced to practice. Revolutions
are no longer confined to books, they have become realities ; quitting the quiet
path of mere speculative philosophy, they are to be seen in the streets and in
the public squares. Since, then, things have come to such a pass, why seek
palliatives, make use of restrictions, or invoke silence? Let us tell the truth,
just as it is, without concealment ; since it is the truth, it will neither shrink
before abundance of knowledge, nor the attacks of error. It is truth ; its
manifestation, its diffusion can have no injurious effect. In a word, God, who
is the Author of societies, had no need of establishing them upon falsehood.
This candor is the more necessary, because political changes may have led
some persons to disavow the truths we are discussing, or no longer to under
stand them aright ; whilst others imagine that obedience to legitimate autho
rity has been taught only by a party anxious to make this doctrine the
foundation of their tyranny. Men of erroneous opinions and evil intentions
have their own codes, to which they have recourse whenever it will forward
their designs : their fatal errors or their sordid interests form the rule of their
conduct; this is the source of their knowledge and of their inspirations. Men,
therefore, endowed with a pure heart and with upright intentions, should know
what to hold by in political oscillations ; it is no longer sufficient for them to
have a general knowledge of the principle of obedience to the legitimate autho
rities ; they must also be acquainted with their applications.

It is true that, in conflicts arising from civil discord, many men throw sside
their own convictions to accommodate themselves to the exigencies of their
interests ; but it is no less certain, that there is still to be found a great num
ber of conscientious men who adhere to them. We may also add, that the
generality of the individuals composing a nation, not being usually in the
urgent necessity of choosing between the sacrifice of their convictions and the
risk of grave and imminent peril, those who entertain them usually find means
to make their influence felt in preventing great evils or in remedying them.
According to certain pessimisms, reason and justice are for ever banished from
the earth, leaving it a prey to self-interest, and substituting for the dictates of
conscience the designs of egotism. In their estimation, it is labor in vain to
discuss and decide questions which may guide us in practice ; for, according to
them, whatever a man's conviction may be in theory, his practical decision will
always be the same. It is my happiness, or misfortune, to take a different view
of the case, and to believe that there still exist in the world, and particularly
in Spain, men of profound convictions, and possesse \ of sufficient strength of
mind to regulate" their conduct by those convictions. The strongest proof that
the inutility of doctrines is exaggerated, is the zeal evinced by all parties to
lay hold of them. Whether from interest or from delicacy, all appeal to' doc
trines ; and this interest or delicacy would not exist, if. doctrines did not pos
sess a powerful ascendency in society. Nothing, in di&cussion, is more
perplexing than the introduction of several questions at the same time ; and
for this reason, I shall proceed in such a manner as to distinguish those which
present themselves here. I will resolve, one by one, these which relate to our
obje. t, and pass over those which are foreign to it. Atove all, we must beai
in mind the general principle at all times inculcated 'jy Catholicity, viz. thf.
obligation of obeying legitimate authority. Let us now see how this principle

2 C

326 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

IB to be applied. In the first place, Are we to obey the civil power when it com
mands something that is evil in itself? No, we are not; for the simple reason
that what is evil in itself is forbidden by G-od ; now, we must obey God rather
than men.

In the second place, Are we to obey the civil power when it interferes in mat
ters not included in the circle of its faculties ? No ; for, with regard to these
matters it is not a power. From the very supposition that its faculties do not
extend so far, we affirm that, in this point of view, it is not a real power. Be
sides, what I have advanced does not exactly and exclusively concern spiritual
matters, to which I appear to allude. I apply this restriction of civil power
also to matters purely temporal. It is necessary to refer here to what I have
said in another part of this work, viz., that whilst we grant to civil power suffi
cient force and attributes for the maintenance of order and unity in the social
body, it is just nevertheless, that we should not allow it to absorb the indi
vidual and the family, so as to destroy their individuality, to deprive them of
their own sphere, and leave them only the means of acting as an integral part
of society. This is one of the distinguishing features between Christian and
pagan civilisation : the latter, in its zeal for the preservation of social unity,
excluded every individual and family right; the former, on the contrary, has
amalgamated the interests of the individual with those of families and society,
so that they neither destroy nor embarrass each other. Thus, besides tho
sphere within which the action of the civil power is properly confined, there arc
others into which it has no right to enter, and in which individuals and fami
lies live without clashing with the colossal force of the government.

It is just to observe here, that Catholicity has done much for the mainte
nance of this principle, which is a strong guarantee of the liberty of the people
The separation of the two powers temporal and spiritual, the independence of
the latter with respect to the former, the distinction of the persons in whom il
is vested : such has been one of the principal causes of this liberty, which,
under different forms of government, is the common inheritance of European
nations. Ever since the foundation of the Church, this principle of the inde
pendence of the spiritual power has at all times served, by the mere fact of its
existence, to remind men that the rights of civil power are limited, that there
are things beyond its province, cases in which a man may say, and ought to
say, / will not obey.

This is another of those cases in which Protestantism has given a wrong
direction to the civilisation of Europe, and in which, far from opening the way
to liberty, it has riveted the chains of slavery. Its first step was the abolition
of the Pontifical authority, the overthrow of the hierarchy, the refusal to grant
to the Church any kind of power whatever, and the placing of spiritual supre
macy in the hands of princes ; that is to say, it has retrograded towards pagan
civilisation, in which we find the sceptre united with the pontificate. The
grand political problem was precisely the separation of these two powers, in
order to save society from subjection to one sole unlimited authority, exercising
its faculties without restraint, and from which might consequently be expected
vexation and oppression. This separation was effected without any political
views, any fixed design on the part of men, wherever Catholicity was estab
lished; for her discipline required and her dogmas inculcated it. Is it not
gtra-Tige that the advocates of theories of equilibrium and counterpoise, whc
have so loudly extolled the utility of separating powers, and of dividing autho
rity among them with a view to prevent it from being converted into tyranny,
should not have noticed the profound wisdom of this Catholic doctrine, even
when considered merely in a social and political point of view ? But no ; it is
remarkable, on the contrary, that all modern revolutions have manifested a
decided tendency towards the amalgamation of the civil and ecclesiastical

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 821

powers — a convincing proof that these revolutions have proceeded from an
origin contrary to the generative principle of European civilisation, and that
instead of guiding it towards perfection, they have rather served to lead it
astray. The union of Church and State in England, under the reigns of
Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, produced the most cruel despotism ; and it that
country at a later period acquired a higher degree of liberty, it was not as
suredly owing to that religious authority given by Protestantism to the head
of the state, but in spite of it. It is worthy of remark, that in later times,
when England entered upon a more extensive sphere of liberty, it was owing
to the diminution of the civil power on all matters appertaining to religion,
and to a greater development of Catholicity, opposed in its very principles to
this monstrous supremacy. In the North of Europe, where the Protestant
system has also prevailed, civil authority has been unlimited ; and even at the
present time, we find the Emperor of Russia indulging in the most barbarous
persecutions against Catholics ; more distrustful of those who defend the inde
pendence of spiritual power, than of the revolutionary clubs. The autocrat is
devoured with a thirst for unlimited authority, and a decided instinct urges
him to attack in particular the Catholic religion, which forms his principal
obstacle.

It is remarkable with what uniformity all power, in this respect, tends to
despotism, whether under a revolutionary or monarchical form. Impatient of
the restraint laid upon him by the spiritual power, Louis XIV. attempted to
3rush the power of Rome. He was urged to it by the same motives as the
Constituent Assembly ; the monarch rested his cause upon the rights of
royalty, and the liberties of the Gallican Church — the Constituent Assembly
invoked the rights of the nation, and the principles of philosophy ; but in the
vuain they were actuated by one and the same motive, that of ascertaining
whether or not civil power should be restricted : in the former case, it was
monarchy tending to despotism ; in the latter, democracy advancing to the
terrors of the Convention. When Napoleon wished to bruise the head of the
revolutionary hydra, to reorganize society, to create a power, he made use of
religion as the most potent element. Catholicity was the only predominating
religion in France ; to this he had recourse, and signed the Concordat. But,
observe, that no sooner did he imagine his work ( f reparation complete, and
the critical moment of the establishment of his power passed, than he began
to think of extending it, of freeing himself from all restraint. He began to
look upon that pontiff, whose presence at his coronation had so much gratified
him, with a more supercilious eye. At first he had some serious disputes with
him, and ended by becoming his most inveterate enemy.

These observations, to which I invite the attention of every reflecting mind,
acquire more importance from the consideration of what has taken place in our
own religious and most Catholic monarchy. In spite of the preponderating
influence of the Catholic religion in Spain, the principle of resistance to the
court of Rome has ever been preserved in a particular and remarkable manner ;
thus, whilst the Austrian dynasty and the Bourbons endeavoured to lay aside
our old laws, so far as they were favourable to political liberty, they preserved
as a sacred deposit the traditional resistance of Ferdinand the Catholic, of
Charles V., and of Philip II. The deep root which Catholicity had taken in
Spain doubtless prevented matters from being carried to extremes ; but it is no
less true that the germ existed, and was handed down from generation to gener
ation, as if its complete development was expected at some more favourable
period. This fact was placed in peculiarly strong relief at the time of the
Buuibon accession, when the monarchy of Louis XIV. was introduced amongst
as; and the last vestiges of the ancient liberties of Castile, Aragou, Valon^ia.
and Catalonia disappeared; fhe mania for kingly rights was tit its height in th»

828 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

reigns of Charles III. and Charles IV. Strange coincidence I The epoch in
which the greatest jealousy was entertained against the Court of Rome and
the independence of Church authority, was exactly that in which ministerial
despotism was in its greatest force, and in which there was seen something
still worse — the despotism of a favorite, with all its pitiful show. True, the
ideas of the French schools were at that time influencing Spain ; and of this
neither the King, nor, probably, some of his ministers, were aware :* but this
does not militate against the - reflections we are making ; on the contrary, it
conies in support of them, by showing their applicability to circumstances quite
dissimilar, and consequently their soundness and importance. The object here
aimed at was the overthrow of the established authority, to make way for
another equally unlimited ; to effect this, it was necessary to urge on the for
mer to abuse its prerogatives, and, at the same time, to establish precedents to
fall back upon, so soon as the revolution should have displaced the absolute
monarchy. What important reflections are here presented to us ! What
strange analogies rise to view between circumstances apparently most antago
nistic ! In our times, we. have seen bishops brought to trial from the same
motives that were alleged in a celebrated cause in the reign of Charles III. ;
and the Supreme Tribunals of our own days have heard from the lips of their
fiscal** the same doctrines formerly propounded by those of the Council. Thus
do doctrines meet, and thus, by different ways, do we arrive at the same end.
According to the ancient fiscals, the authority of the king was every thing;
the rights of the crown, like the ark of old, were held so sacred, that to touch,
or even to look upon them, was accounted a sacrilege. Well, the ancient mo
narchy has disappeared — the throne is no longer any thing more than a shadow
of wh^t it once was — the Revolution has triumphed over it ; and yet, despite a
change so profound, it is not long since a jiscal of the Supreme Tribunal,
charging a bishop with an offence against the rights of the civil power, made
use of these words : " In the state, a leaf cannot be plucked without the per
mission of government." These words need no comment; the writer of these
lines heard them uttered ; and this plain, unequivocal declaration of arbitrary
power seemed to him to throw a new ray of light upon history.

The gravity and importance of this subject required this digression ; it was
incumbent on me to show how far the Catholic principle of the independence
of spiritual power may serve the cause of true liberty. This principle, in fact,
eminently teaches that the faculties of civil power are limited, and it is, con
sequently, a perpetual condemnation of despotism. To revert to the original
question. • It remains, then, established, that we are to be subject to the civil
power so long as it does not go beyond its proper limits ; but that the Catholic
doctrine never enjoins obedience when civil power oversteps the limits of its
faculties.

It will not be uninteresting to the reader to learn how the principle of obe
dience was understood by one of the most illustrious interpreters of Catholic
doctrine — by the holy Doctor so often cited. According to him, whenever laws
are unjust (and observe, that, in his opinion, they may be so in many ways),
they are not binding on conscience, unless for fear of creating scandal, 01
causing greater evils; that is to say, that, in certain cases, an unjust law may
become obligatory, not by virtue of any duty which it imposes, but from mo
tives of prudence. These are his words, to which I crave the reader's par
ticular attention : " Laws are unjust in two ways ; either because they are
opposed to ths common weal; or on account of their aim, as is the case when
a government imposes upon its subjects onerous laws, not for the good of the
Commonweal, but for the sake of self-interest or ambition; or on account of

* CK we attorneys, charged with the prosecution of criminal ar i other causes.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 829

their author, as when any one makes a law without being invested with j roper
faculties; again, they may be unjust in form, as when the taxes are unequally
divided among the multitude, although in other respects tending to the public
good. Such laws are rather outrages than laws; since, as St. Augustin
observes (lib. i. de Lib. Arb cap. 5), t An unjust law does not appear to be &
law.' Such laws, therefore, are not binding in conscience, unless, perhaps, for
the avoiding of scandal and trouble — a motive which ought to induce man to
give1 up h:.3 right, as St. Matthew observes: 'And whosoever shall force thee
to go one mile, go with him other two ; and if any man will go to law with,
thee, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also/ Laws may also be
unjust in another point of view, when they are contrary to the will of God; as
the laws of tyrants enforcing idolatry, or anything else contrary to divine law.
With respect to such laws, it is no^i allowable, under any circumstances, to
obey them; for, as it is said in the Acts of the Apostles, ' We must obey God
rather than man.'" " Injustae autem sunt leges dupliciter; uno modo per
contrarietatein ad bonum commune e contrario prsedictis, vel ex fine, sicut cum
aliquis prsesidens leges imponit onerosas subditis non pertinentes ad utilitatem
comrnunem, sed magis ad propriam cupiditatem vel gloriam ; vel etiam ex
auctore, sicut cum aliquis legem fert ultra sibi commissam potestatem ; vel
etiain ex forma cum insequaliter onera multitudinis dispensantur, etiamsi ordi-
nentur ad bonum commune; et hujusmodi magis sunt violentiae quam leges,
quia sicut Augustinus dicit (lib. i. de Lib. Arb. cap. 5, parum a princ.) lex
esse non videtur quae justa non fuerit, unde tales leges in foro conscientise non
obligant, nisi forte propter vitandum scandalum vel turbationein, propter quod
etiam homo juri suo cedere debet secundum illud Math. cap. v. f Qui te
angariaverit mille passus, vade cum eo alia duo, et qui abstulerit tibi tunicam
da ei et pallium.' Alio modo leges possunt esse injustae per contrarietatem ad
bonum, divinum, sicut leges tyranuorum inducentes ad idololatriam, vel ad
quodcunique aliud quod sit centra legem divinam, et tales leges nullo modo
licet observare, quia sicut dicitur Act. cap. v. : ' Obedire oportet Deo magis
juam hominibus.' " (D. Th. 1, 2, qusest. 90, art. 1.)
This doctrine furnishes us with the following rules :

1. We cannot, under any circumstances, obey the civil power when its com
mands are opposed to the divine law.

2. When laws are unjust, they are not binding in conscience.

3. It may become necessary to obey these laws from motives of prudence ;
that is, in order to avoid scandal and commotions.

4. Laws are unjust from some one of the following causes :

When they are opposed to the common weal — when their aim is not the good
of the commonweal — when the legislator outsteps the limits of his faculties —
when, although in other respects tending to the good of the commonweal, and
proceeding from competent authority, they do not observe suitable equity ; for
instance, when they divide unequally the public imposts.

We have quoted and copied the venerable text whence these rules are
derived : their illustrious author has been the guide of all the theological schools
during the last six centuries; his authority has never been called in question
in these schools on points of dogma or morality ; these rules may, therefore,
be regarded as the recapitulation of the doctrines of Catholic theologians with
reference to the obedience due to authority. We may now, without doubt,
appeal with entire confidence to every man of good sense. Let him judge
whether these doctrines are in the least inclined to despotism, whether they
have the least tendency to tyranny, in fine, whether they aim the slightest
blow at liberty. It is vain to seek in them the slightest appearance of flattery
to the civil power, whose limits are marked out with rigorous severity ; if it
outsteps them, it is openly told, " Thy laws are not laws, but outrages ; the?

41 a oi

880 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

are not binding in conscience; and if, in some instances, thou art obeyed, it

ie not owing to any obligation, but to prudence, in order to avoid scandal and
commotion ; it is thenceforth such a dishonor to thee, that thy triumph, far
from entitling thee to renown, assimilates thee to the robber who despoils the
peaceable man of his garment, and to whom the latter, for the sake of peace,
gives up his cloak also." If these are doctrines of oppression and despotism,
we also are advocates for such oppression and despotism; for we cannotxconceive
doctrines more favorable to liberty.

Upon these principles the admirable institution of European monarchy was
founded. This teaching has created the moral defences by which that monarchy
is surrounded; defences restraining it within the limits of its duties, even where
political guarantees do not exist. The mind, wearied with foolish declamations
against the tyranny of kings, and, on the other hand, not less tired of the
boisterous adulations lavished upon power in modern times, expands and
rejoices on meeting with this pure, disinterested, and sincere expression of the
rights and duties of governments and of people, on hearing this language,
impressed with as much of wisdom as of upright intention and generous free
dom. What books were consulted by men making use of such language ?
The Scriptures, the Fathers, the collections of ecclesiastical documents.
Could they have received their inspirations from the society which surrounded
them ? No ; for in that same society disorder and confusion prevailed ; some
times a turbulent disobedience, at others despotism was predominant. And
yet they speak with as much discretion, tact, and calmness as if they were
living in the midst of well-regulated society. They were guided by divine
revelation, which taught them truth. How often did they see it forgotten
and trampled under foot! But uninfluenced by circumstances, however
unfavorable, they wrote in a region far above the atmosphere of human pas
sions. Truth is of all times; proclaim it ever, and God will effect the
rest. (31)

CHAPTER LV.

ON RESISTANCE TO DE FACTO GOVERNMENTS.

THE questions hitherto discussed relating to the obedience due to power ai A
very grave ; but those of resistance to it are still more important.

Is it allowable, under any circumstances, in any supposition, to resist the
civil power by physical force ? Does there nowhere exist a deposing power?
How far do Catholic doctrines extend on this subject? Such are the extreme
points we purpose to discuss According to one system, obedience is due to
a government from the very fact of its existence, even on the supposition that
its existence is illegitimate. Now, it is important to demonstrate, at the very
outset, the unsoundness of this doctrine, which is contrary to right reason, and
has never been taught by Catholicity. In preaching obedience " to the powers
that be," the Church speaks of powers that have a legitimate existence. The
absurdity, that a simple fact can create right, can never become a dogma of
Catholicity. Were it true that resistance would be unlawful, it would be
equally true that an illegitimate government has a right to command ; for the
obligation to obey is correlative with the right to command; and an illegitimate
government would, consequently, become legitimatised by the simple fact of
its existence. This would legitimatise all usurpations ; the most heroic resist
ance on the part of the people would be condemned ; the world would be
abandoned to the mere rule of force. No; that degr° ' Mg doctrine is not true
which derives legitimacy from usurpation; which says to a people conquered

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 33 J

and subjugated by any usurper whatever, " Obey your tyrant ; his rights are
fouided on force, and your obligation to him on your weakness." No; there
cannot be truth in a doctrine that would efface from our history one of ita
brightest pages, that would entail disgrace upon a nation taking up arms to
expel an usurper, struggling for its independence during a period of six years,
and finally overthrowing the conqueror of Europe. If Napoleon had succeeded
in establishing his power amongst us, the Spanish nation would still have main
tained the right on account of which it revolted in 1808 ; victory could not
have rendered usurpation legitimate. The victims of the second of May did
not legalise the command of Murat; and had even every corner of the penin
sula been made a theatre of horrors similar to those witnessed on the Prado,
the blood of martyred patriots, covering the usurper and ^his satellites with
everlasting infamy, would only have confirmed the sacred right of revolting in
defence of? the throne, of national independence. We must repeat it : the
simple fact does not create a right, either in private or public affairs; and so
soon as such a principle is acknowledged, every idea of reason and justice
disappears from the world. Those who may have wished to flatter governments
with so fatal a doctrine, were not aware that this was the very way to ruin
them, and to sow the seeds of usurpation and insurrection. What will be safe
here below if we admit the principle, that success insures justice, and that the
conqueror is always the rightful ruler ? Is not this throwing open a wide gate
to ambition, and to every crime ? Is it not exciting men to forget every idea
of right, reason, and justice, to acknowledge no other rule than brute force ?
Governments protected by so strange a doctrine would assuredly owe little
gratitude to their protectors : this, in fact, is no defence ; it is an insult ; it is
more of a cruel sarcasm than an apology. To what, indeed, does it amount,
and how would this doctrine sound ? Why, as follows : " People, obey him
who commands you ; you say his authority is usurped ; we do not deny it ; but,
by the very fact of his having attained his end, the usurper has acquired a
right. He is, indeed, a robber who has attacked you on the highway ; he has
stolen your money ; but, by the mere fact of your not being able to resist him,
and being forced to deliver to him your purse, now that he is possessed of it,
you ought to respect this money as an inviolable property : such is your duty.
It is a robbery ; but this robbery being a consummated act, you cannot now
obtain redress for it."

In this point of view the doctrine of consummated facts appears so much
opposed to generally received ideas, that no reasonable man can seriously
accept it. I do not deny that there are cases in which obedience, even to an
illegitimate government, is to be recommended ; when, for instance, we foresee
that resistance would be useless, that it would only lead to new disorders, and
to a greater effusion of blood : but in recommending prudence to the people,
let us not disguise it under false doctrines — let us beware of calming the
exasperation of misfortune by circulating errors subversive of all governments,
of all society. • It is worthy of remark, that all powers, even the most ille
gitimate, have a truer instinct than that manifested by the maintenance of such
maxims. All powers in the first moment of their existence, before commencing
their operations, before proceeding to one single act, proclaim their legitimacy.
The} seek it in right divine and human, they establish it upon birth or election,
they derive it from historical titles, or the sudden development of extraordinary
events ; but all tends to the same point, the pretension to legitimacy.
never speak of the mere fact of their existence ; from the instinct that prompts
their own preservation they learn better than to rely upon such grounds, since
to do so would be to annihilate their authority, to destrcy their prestige, to
encourage revolt; in a word, to commit self-destruction. We have here the
most explicit Condemnation of the doctrine we are cornt atiiig, for the IE nt

332 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

shameless usurpers have more respect for good sense and the pablic con
science.

It sometimes happens that doctrines the most erroneous assume a veil of
gentleness and Christian meekness. We must overthrow the arguments thai
might be employed against us, by the advocates of blind submission to any
power that happens to be established. " The Scriptures/' they will say,
t( prescribe to us obedience to the authorities, without any distinction ; the
Christian, therefore, ought not to make any distinction, but submit with resig
nation to such as he finds established." In reply to this objection, I see the
following very decisive answers. 1 Illegitimate authority is no authority at
all; the idea of. power involves the idea of right, without which it is mere phy
sical power, that is, force. When, therefore, the Scriptures prescribe obedience
to the authorities, it is the lawful authorities that are implied. 2. The sacred
text, in enjoining us obedience to the civil power, tells us that it is ordained by
God Himself, that it is the minister of Glod Himself; and it is evident that
usurpation is never invested with so high a character. The usurper is perhaps
the instrument of Providence, the scourge of Heaven, as Attila designated him
self, but not the minister of Grod. 3. The sacred Scriptures prescribe obedience
to the subject in relation to the civil power, in the same way as they prescribe
it to the slave in relation to his master. But what sort of masters are here
implied ? Evidently such as exercised a legitimate dominion, as it was under
stood at the time, conformable to the prevailing laws and customs ; otherwise
the Scriptures would require obedience from such slaves as were reduced to
slavery by an abuse of power. Hence, as the obedience to masters prescribed
by the Scriptures does not deprive the slave unjustly retained in servitude of
his right, so also the obedience dlue to the established authorities should be
restricted to the lawful authorities, and to cases in which prudence would
dictate it in order to avoid commotion and scandal.

In confirmation of the doctrine of mere de facto government, the conduct of
the first Christians has been sometimes alleged. " They submitted/' it is said,
" to the constituted authorities without even inquiring whether they were legi
timate or not. At this epoch usurpations were frequent, the imperial throne
was established by force, its occupants one after another owed their elevation
to military insurrection, and to the assassination of their predecessors. We
find, nevertheless, that Christians never meddled with the question of legi
timacy; they respected the established power, and this power failing, they
submitted without murmuring to the new tyrant who had usurped the throne "
This argument, it cannot be denied, is very plausible, and presents at first sight
a serious difliculty; a few reflections, however, suffice to show its extreme
futility. In order that an insurrection against an unlawful power may be
legitimate and prudent, those who undertake to overturn it should be sure of
its illegitimacy, should have in view the substitution of a lawful power, and
should count besides on the probability of the success of their enterprise. If
these conditions are not fulfilled, the insurrection has no object; it is a mere
fruitless attempt, an impotent revenge, which, instead of being useful to society,
only causes bloodshed, only irritates the power attacked, and can have in con
sequence no other effect than to increase oppression and tyranny.

None of the conditions here mentioned were in existence at the time we are
speaking of; all that upright men could do was quietly to resign themselves to
the calamitous circumstances of the times, and by fervent prayer to implore the
Almighty to take compassion on mankind.

When every thing was decided by force of arms, who could say whether such
or such an emperor was lawfully established ? Upon what rules was the impe
rial succession established ? Where was legitimacy to be substituted for
illegitimacy ? Amongst the Romans — those vile, degraded beings, kissing the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

chains of the first tyrant who offered them food and yame»? In the worthless
posterity of those illustrious patricians who formerly gave laws to the universe ?
Was it vested in the sons or in the family of some assassinated emperor, when
the laws had not established hereditary succession, when the sceptre of the
empire was at the disposal of the legions, when it frequently happened that the
emperor, the victim of usurpation, had been himself merely a usurper who
had mounted to the throne over the corpse of his rival '/ Did it exist in the
ancient rights of those conquered nations now reduced to simple dependen
of the empire, 'divested of all national spirit, having even lost the recolle
of their former condition, without a thought capable of conducting them in
work of their emancipation, and destitute of resources against the colossal luice
of their masters ? What object could any one have, under such circumstances,
in making attempts against the established government ? When the legions
decided the fate of the world, alternately elevating and assassinating their
masters, what could or what ought the Christian to do ? The disciple of a God
of peace and love, he could not take part in criminal scenes of bloodshed and
tumult ; authority was tottering and uncertain ; it was not for him to decide
whether it was legitimate or not ; it only remained for him to submit to the
power generally acknowledged, and at the arrival of one of those changes, at
that time of so frequent occurrence, to yield the same obedience to the newly-
established government.

The interference of Christians in political disputes would only have served
to bring into disrepute the holy religion they professed ; it would have given to
philosophers and idolaters a pretext for increasing the catalogue of black
calumnies which they everywhere brought against the faith. Public report
accused Catholicity of being subversive of governments ; Christians would have
furnished a pretext for extending and accrediting this unfounded report, the
hatred of governments would have been redoubled, and the rigors of persecution
so cruelly exercised against the disciples of the cross would have been increased.
Has this state of things ever existed but once, either in ancient or modern
times ? And could the conduct of the first Christians in this respect be made
a rule for the Spaniards, for instance, at the time they resisted the usurpation
of Bonaparte ? Or could it be imitated by any other people in similar circum
stances ? Or will it be received as an argument in favor of every kind of
usurpation '/ No; man, in becoming a Christian, does not cease to be a citizen,
to be a man, to have his rights, and he acts in a praiseworthy manner when
ever, within the bounds of reason and justice, he attempts to maintain these
rights with fearless intrepidity.

Don Felix Amat, Archbishop of Palmyra, in his posthumous work entitled
Idea of the Church Militant, makes use of these words: "Jesus Christ, by his
plain and expressive answer, Rendtr to Ccesar the thinys that are Cansar's, has
suificiently established, that the mere fact of a government's existence is suffi
cient for enforcing the obedience of subjects to it." What I have already
advanced is enough, in my opinion, to show the fallacy of such an assertion ;
and, as I intend to revert to this subject, and investigate more attentively this
author's opinion, and the reasons upon which he supports it, 1 shall not now
attempt to enter upon its refutation. I will, nevertheless, make one obs^rva-
tion, which occurred to me on reading the passages in which the Archb:sbop
of Palmyra developes it. His work was forbidden at Home ; and whatever
may have been the motives for such a prohibition, we may rest assured that,
in the case of a book advocating such doctrines, every man who is jealous of
his rights might acquiesce in the decree of the Sacred Congregation.

As the opportunity is favorable, we may make a few remarks upon consum
mated/acts, which are so closely connected with the doctrine under discussion.
Consummat'ed implies something perfect in its kind ; hence an act is consum

334 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

mated when it has attained its completion. This word, applied to crimes, ii
opposed to mere attempt. We say an attempt at robbery, murder, or arson,
when the undertaking to commit these crimes has been manifested by some act;
for instance, the lock of a door has been broken, an attack has been made with
a murderous weapon, combustible matter has been ignited — but the crime is
not said to be consummated till the robbery, murder, or arson has actually been
committed. Hence, in a political and social sense, we designate consummated
facts an usurpation, completely overthrowing the legitimate power, and by
means of which the usurper is already substituted in its place ; a measure exe
cuted in all its points ; such as the suppression of the regular clergy in Spain,
and the confiscation of their property to the treasury ; a revolution which has
been triumphant, and which has entirely disposed of a country, as was the
case with our American possessions.

From this explanation, we see clearly that a fact does not, by being consum
mated, change its nature; it still remains a simple fact — just or unjust, legal
or illegal — as it was before. The most horrible outrages may also be termed
consummated faces ; yet, for all that, they do not cease to deserve disgrace and
punishment.

What, then, is the meaning of certain phrases continually uttered by some
men ? " We must respect consummated facts ; we must always accept con
summated facts ; it is folly to resist consummated facts ; it is a wise policy that
yields to consummated facts." Far be it from me to assert that all those who
establish these maxims, profess the fatal doctrines to which they give rise.
We often admit principles, the consequences of which we reject; and point out
a certain line of conduct as right, without attending to the abominable maxima
in which it originates. In human affairs, good and evil, error and truth are
so narrowly separated, and prudence so closely borders on culpable timidity,
that in theory, as well as in practice, it is not always easy to remain within
the bounds prescribed by reason and the eternal principles of sound morality.
If respect for consummated facts is mentioned, perverse men immediately
include in it the sanctioning of crime, the spoils of plunder secured to the
robber, no hope of restitution left to the victims, and a gag put upon their
mouths, to stifle their complaints. Others, I am aware, have no such design
in making use of these, words, but are the dupes of a confusion of ideas, arising
from their not having distinguished between moral principles and public expe
diency. On this point, therefore, we must distinguish and define, which I will
do in a few words.

The simple consummation of a fact does not render it legitimate ; and, con
sequently, it is not on this account alone worthy of respect. The robber who
has stolen does not acquire a right to the thing stolen ; the incendiary who
reduces a house to ashes is no less deserving of punishment, of being forced to
make reparation, than if he had been arrested in the attempt. This is so
evident and clear, that it cannot be called in question. To assert the contrary,
is to become the enemy of all morality, of all justice, of all right; and to pro-
:laim the exclusive rule of force and cunning. Consummated facts, apper
taining to social and political order, do not change their nature ; the usurpar,
who seizes upon the crown of his lawful predecessor ; the conqueror, who, by
.mere force of arms, has subdued a nation, does not thereby acquire a right to
its possession ; the government, which by gross iniquities has despoiled entire
classes of citizens, exacted undue contributions, abolished legitimate rights,
cannot justify its acts by the simple fact of its having sufficient strength to
execute these iniquities. That is equally evident; and if there is here any
(Jifference at all, the crime is only the greater, from the greater gravity and
»x j%ffr of the wrongs committed, and of the scandal given to the public. Suet

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 335

are the principles of sound morality — individual morality, social morality;
morality of the whole human race; immutable, eternal morality.

Let us now examine the question of public expediency. In some instances,
a consummated fact, in spite of all its injustice, all its immorality and atrocity,
acquires such an ascendency, that by not accepting it, or by being determined
to destroy it, we should let loose a train of troubles and commotions, and per
haps without effect. Every government is bound to respect justice, and to act
in such a manner that its subjects may also respect it; but it should not com
mand what will not be obeyed, when it is deprived of the means of enforcing
obedience. In such a case, we should not commit an injustice by not attacking
the illegal interests, or by not endeavoring to obtain redress for the victims ;
the government, in such a case, may be compared to a man who, beholding
robbers loaded with the fruit of their theft, is without the means of forcing
them to make restitution. If you suppose an impossibility, what does it avail
to say that the government is not a single individual, but a defender of all
legitimate interests ? No one is bound to impossibilities.

Observe, also, that this remark applies not only to a physical impossibility,
but also to a moral one. Whenever, therefore, the government possesses the
material means of obtaining reparation, a moral impossibility will be consti
tuted, when the employing of those means would cause serious difficulties to
the state, endanger the public peace, or sow the seeds of future insurrection.
Order and public interest require the preference, for these are the primary
objects of all government; consequently, that which cannot be accomplished
without endangering them, ought to be considered as impossible. The appli
cation of these doctrines will always be a question of prudence, that cannot be
subjected to any general rule. Depending as it does upon a thousand circum
stances, it cannot be decided upon abstract principles; but by the consideration
of existing facts, duly appreciated and considered by political tact. Such is
the case of the respect due to consummated facts ; the injustice of these facts
is apparent; but we must not overlook their force. Not to attack them is not,
necessarily, to sanction them. The legislator is bound to diminish the evil as
far as possible ; but not to risk an aggravation of it by attempting an imprac
ticable reparation. As it is particularly injurious to society for great interests
to remain insecure, and uncertain for the future, just means must be adopted,
which, without occasioning complicity in the evil, may prevent the dangers of
a doubtful situation, resulting from injustice itself. A just policy does not
sanction injustice ; but a wise policy never despises the importance of estab
lished facts. If such facts exist, and appear indestructible, it tolerates them ;
but without affording them the sanction of its participation or approval.
Acting with dignity, it makes the best of difficulties ; and in some sort allies
the principles of eternal justice with the views of public expediency. We have
a very striking case in point, which will place this matter in the clearest pos
sible light. After the great evils, and the enormous acts of injustice perpe
trated during the French Revolution, what possibility was there of making a
complete reparation? In 1814, could every thing be restored to the position
in which it stood in 1789 ? The throne overturned, all social distinctions
levelled, and property broken up ; who could reconstruct the ancient social
edifice ? No one.

Such is the respect to be entertained for consummated facts, which might
be more properly termed indestructible ones. To illustrate my idea **i\\ further,
I will give it a very simple exemplification. A proprietor, driven from his
possessions by a powerful neighbor, has not the means of repossessing himself
of them. He has neither wealth nor influence ; and his spoliator abound- :~
both. If he have recourse to force, he will be vanquished ; if to the
he will lo^e his cause ; what, therefore, is he to do ? To negoti

336 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

accommodation, to obtain what he cau. and be resigned to his fate. This ii
all that can be said ; and it is remarkable, that such are the principles adopted
by governments. History and experience teach us, that consummated facts
are respected when they are indestructible ; that is, when they possess in them
selves sufficient force to make them respected ; in any other case, they are not
so. And nothing is more natural. Whatever is not founded upon right, COD
only be maintained by force. (32)

-CHAPTER LVI.

HOW THE CIVIL POWER MAY BE LAWFULLY RESISTED.

FROM what has been said in the foregoing chapters it follows, that it ia
allowable to resist illegitimate power by force. The Catholic religion does not
enjoin obedience to governments existing merely de facto; for morality does not
admit a mere fact, unsupported by right and justice. However, when power
is in itself lawful, but in its exercise tyrannical, does our religion prohibit, in
every instance, resistance by physical force ; so that not to resist at all, forms
a part of her dogmas ? Is insurrection never allowable, in any supposition, for
any motive ? Although I have already eliminated many questions, it is neces
sary to draw here a fresh distinction, in order to fix exactly the point at which
dogma ends, and opinions begin. It is evident, in the first place, that an indi
vidual has no right to kill a tyrant on his own authority. The Council of
Constance, in its 15th session, condemned the following proposition as heretical:
<^*Any vassal or subject may and should, lawfully and meritoriously, kill any
tyrant. He may even, for this purpose, avail himself of ambushes, and wily
expressions of affection or adulation ; notwithstanding any oath or pact imposed
upon him by the tyrant; and without waiting for the sentence or order of any
judge/' " Quilibet tyrannus potest et debet licite et meritorie occidi per
quemcumque vassallum suum vel subditum, etiam per clanculares insidias, et
sub tiles blanditias vel adulationes, non obstante quocumque prsestito juramento,
seu confoederatione factis cum eo, non expectata sententia vel mandate judicis
cujuscumque."

But does this decision of the Council of Constance constitute a prohibition
of every kind of insurrection ? No ; it speaks of the murder of a tyrant by
any particular individual; but every case of resistance is not maintained by a
single individual ; neither is it the aim of every insurrection to destroy a tyrant.
This doctrine only serves to prevent murder, and a train of evils which would
overwhelm society if it were established that any individual had a right of his
own authority to kill the supreme ruler. Who will venture to accuse this
doctrine of being favorable to tyranny ? The liberty of the people should not
be based upon the horrid right of assassination ; the defence of the rights of
society should not be confided to the dagger of a fanatic. The attributes of
public power are so extensive and various, that their exercise must necessarily
and frequently inconvenience some individuals. Man, inclined to extremes
and revenge, easily enlarges upon the grievances which he suffers; passing
from a particular to a general, he is inclined to look upon those who injure or
oppose him as villains. At the slightest shock which he receives from govern
ment, he cries out that tyranny is insupportable ; the act of arbitrary power,
real or imaginary, committed against him, becomes, in his mouth, one of the
many iniquities perpetrated, or the commencement of those that are to be.
Grant, therefore, to the individual the right of killing a tyrant ; proclaim to the
people tha% to render such an act lawful and meritorious, there is no need of
a sentence, ">r any judicial condemnation; and from that time this horrible

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 887

onme will become frequent. The wisest, the justest kings will fall victims to
the parricidal dagger, or the poisoned cup. You will have furnished no gua
rantee to the liberty of the people, and you will have exposed the dearest
interests of society to dreadful hazards.

The Catholic Church, by this solemn declaration, has conferred an immense
service on humanity. The violent death of him who holds the supreme power
seldom happens without causing bloodshed and great commotion. It provokes
measures of suspicious precaution, easily converted into tyranny. It follows,
then, that any crime instigated by excessive hatred of tyranny contributes to
establish it in a form still more absolute and cruel. Modern nations should
feel grateful to the Catholic Church for having established this sacred and
saving principle. A person must be possessed of very mean sentiments, or very
ferocious instincts, not to appreciate it, or to regret the bloody scenes of the
Koman Empire and the barbarian monarchy. We have seen, and we still see,
powerful nations delivered up to dreadful troubles, by the neglect of this
Catholic maxim. The history of the last three centuries, and the experience
of this, prove that this august precept of the Church was given to the people
in anticipation of the dangers which were threatening them. In it we find no
flattery for kings ; for they are not the only ones benefited by it ; it is a genera]
proposition, including all others, whatever be their titles, who exercise supreme
authority, whatever be the form of government, from the Russian autocrat to
the most democratical republic.

It is worthy of remark, that modern constitutions, proceeding from the
bosom of revolutions, have universally rendered a solemn homage to this
Catholic maxim j they have declared the person of the monarch sacred and
inviolable. What does this mean, but that this person should be placed under
in impenetrable safeguard ? You reproach the Catholic Church with placing
a &ort of shield before the person of kings, and yet you yourselves declare that
person inviolable. ^ The anointing of kings you ridicule, and yet you yourself
declare that the king is sacred. Since you are forced to imitate the Church,
her dogmas and her discipline must have contained an eternal truth, and high
political principles; with this difference, however, that you represent as the
work of the will of man what she esteems the work of the will of God. But
if supreme power makes a scandalous abuse of its faculties, if it outsteps its
just bounds, if it tramples under foot fundamental laws, if it persecutes reli
gion, corrupts morality, outrages public dignity, attacks the honor of citizens,
exacts illegal and disproportionate contributions, alienates national property,
dismembers provinces, inflicts death and ignominy upon the people : in such
cases, does Catholicity also prescribe obedience? does it forbid resistance?
does it command subjects to remain tranquil, like a lamb in the claws of a wild
beast ? May there not exist, either in an individual, or in the principal bodies,
or in the most distinguished classes of society, or in the entire mass of the
nation, somewhere, in fine, the right of opposing, of resisting, after all means
of mildness, representation, counsel, and entreaty have failed ? In such dis
astrous circumstances, does the Church leave the people without hope, and
tyrants without restraint ?

In such extremities, certain very renowned theologians think that resistance
is allowable; but ^ the dogmas of the Church do not descend to these details.
The Church abstains from condemning the opposite doctrines. In such extreme
circumstances, non-resistance is not a dogmatical prescription. The Church
has never taught such a doctrine ; if any one will maintain that she has, let him
bring forward a decision of a Council or of a Sovereign Pontiff to that effect.
St.^Thomas of Aquin, Cardinal Bellarmin, Suarez, and other eminent theo
logians, were well versed in the dogmas of the Church ; and yet, if you consult
their works, so far from finding this doctrine in them, you will find the opposite

*" . 2 D

838 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

one. N nv the Church has not condemned them, she has not confounded them
with tl .06 seditious writers in whom Protestantism abounds, nor with modern
revoluiiuuists, who are continually disturbing social order. Bossuet and other
authors of repute differ from St. Thomas, Bellarmin, Suarez ; and this gives
credit to the opposite opinion, but does not convert it into a dogma. Upon
certain points of the highest import, the opinions of the illustrious Bishop of
Meaux suffered contradiction ; and we know that upon this case of am excess
of tyranny, the Pope at another period was acknowledged to possess faculties
which Bossuet refuses him.

The Abbe de Lamennais, in his impotent and obstinate resistance to the
Holy see, adduced the doctrines of St. Thomas, and those of some other theo
logians, pretending that to condemn his own works was to condemn schools
hitherto held irreproachable. (Affaires de Rome.} The Abbe Gerbet, in his
excellent refutation of M. de Lamennais, after having very judiciously remarked,
that the Sovereign Pontiff's object in reproving modern doctrines was, to pre
vent a renewal of the errors of Wickliffe, observes, at the epoch of this here-
siarch's condemnation, the doctrines of St. Thomas and of other theologians
were well known, and that, nevertheless, no one believed that they were
included in the condemnation. The excellent author of this refutation deemed
this sufficient to deprive M. de Lamennais of the shield under which he sought
to defend and cover his apostacy ; and for this reason, he abstains from draw
ing a parallel between the two doctrines. In fact, this reflection alone is
sufficient to convince any judicious man that the doctrines of St. Thomas bear
no resemblance to those of M. de Lamennais. It may, however, be useful to
give in few words a comparison of the two doctrines. At the present time, and
in these matters, it is very proper to know, not only that these doctrines differ,
but likewise wherein they differ. M. de Lamennais' theory may be stated in
the following terms : A natural equality among men, and, as necessary conse
quences, 1. Equality of rights, political rights included; 2. The injustice of
every social and political organization not establishing this equality completely,
as is the case in Europe and in the whole universe; 3. Expediency and legi
timacy of insurrection, to destroy governments, and change social organization ;
4. Abolition of all government, as the object of the progress of the human
race.

The doctrines of St. Thomas on the same points may be thus expressed : A
natural equality among men ; that is to say, an essential equality, but exclusive
of physical, intellectual, and moral gifts — an equality among men in the eyes
pf God — an equality in their destination, inasmuch as they are all created to
enjoy G-od — an equality of means, inasmuch as they are all redeemed by Christ,
and may all receive His grace ; but exclusive of the inequalities which it may
please God to establish by gifts of grace and glory. 1. An equality of social
and political rights. According to the holy doctor, such an equality is impos
sible. He rather supports the utility and legitimacy of certain hierarchies ;
the respect due to those established by law ; the necessity of there being some
to command and others to obey; the obligation of being subject to the estab
lished laws of the country, whatever be the form of government ; the preference
for monarchical governments. 2. The injustice of every social and political
organization not establishing a complete equality. St. Thomas looks upon this
as an error opposed to reason and to faith. Nay, more ; not only is it true that
the inequality founded upon the very nature of man and of society is an effect
and punishment of original sin, in as far as it entails upon man injury or incon
venience ; but, according to the holy Doctor, this inequality would have existed
among men even in a state of innocence. 3. Expediency and legitimacy of
insurrection, to destroy governments, and to change the social organization. An
erroneous and fatal opinion. We ought to submit to legitimate governments :

PBOTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 66$

it is expedient even to tolerate such as make an improper use of their power j
we must exhaust every means of entreaty, of counsel and representation, before
we have recourse to others. We can only appeal to force in the greatest
extremities, on rare occasions, and then only under many restrictions, as will
be seen elsewhere. 4. Abolition of all government, as the object of the proarest
of the human race. An absurd proposition — a dream that cannot be realized.
The necessity of government in every society ; arguments founded upon the
nature of man; analogies from the human body, from the very order of tha
universe ; the existence of government even in a state of innocence. Such are
the doctrines of De Lamennais and St. Thomas respectively. Let the reader
compare them, and judge for himself.

It is impossible to adduce the words of the holy Doctor — they would fill the
volume. Should any reader wish to consult them himself, let him read, in
addition to the passages inserted in this work, the whole treatise, De Reyimine,
Principum, the commentaries on the Epistle to the Romans, and those passages
of the Summa in which the holy Doctor treats of the soul, of the creation of
man, of the state of innocence, of the angels and of their hierarchy, of original
sin and its effects, and, above all, his valuable Treatise on Laws and that on
Justice, in which he discusses the origin of the right of property and of
inflicting punishments. After that he will be convinced of the truth of what
I have just advanced; he will then see the injustice of M. de Lamennais in
attempting to make the illustrious writers and saints venerated on our altars
the accomplices of his apostacy. In grave and delicate matters confusion pro
duces error, the enemies of truth are interested in spreading darkness, in
establishing general and vague propositions susceptible of various interpreta
tions. They seek with anxiety a text favorable to some one of the numerous
interpretations that are possible, and proudly exclaim, " How unjust it is in
you to condemn us ; what we maintain was asserted centuries ago, by the most
respected and celebrated writers. " The Abbe de Lamennais must have reck
oned in a singular manner upon the credulity of his readers, to think of making
them believe that there was no honest man to be found at Rome capable of
informing the Pope, that in condemning the doctrines of the apostle of revo
lution, he was condemning also those of the angel of the schools, and other
distinguished theologians. It is possible that M. de Lamennais never read
the authors except in haste and in fragments, but many persons at Rome have
spent their lives in studying them.

We are not ignorant of the violent declamations of Luther, Zwinglius, Knox,
Jurieu, and other leaders of Protestantism, to stir up the people to revolt
against princes ; we are not ignorant of the gross and violent invectives made
use of by these sectaries to excite the multitude. Catholics look upon such
extravagances with horror. In like manner, they look with dread upon the
anarchical doctrine of Rousseau, establishing that " the clauses of the social
contract are so determined by the very nature of the act, that the least modi
fication of them would render them vain and null; so that every one then
resumes his former rights and regains his natural liberty. ( Contrat Social, 1.
i. c. 6.) The doctrine of the theologians above cited does not contain- this
fruitful germ of insurrection and disaster; but, on the other hand, they are
not found timid and pusillanimous in the last extremities. They preach up
resignation, patience, and longanimity ; but there is a point at which they stop
and exclaim, Enouyh. If they do not advocate insurrection, they do not pro
hibit it ; it would be in vain to require them to teach as a dogmatical truth the
obligation of not resisting in extreme cases. They cannot teach the people to
consider as a dogma what tVey do not ackncwledge as such. It is not their
fault \f the tempest bursts, if the roarine waves arise; no other hand cm

840 PBOTESIANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

•ontrol them than that of God, who rides upon the north wind and shorts witk
the tempest.

For many centuries there has been inculcated in Europe a doctrine much
criticised by those who do not understand it, the intervention of the Pontifica*
authority between the people and their sovereigns. This doctrine was nothing
less than Heaven descending as an arbiter and judge, to put ail end to the
disputes of the earth.

The temporal power of the Popes has served as a wonderful theme to the
enemies of the Church to create alarm, and declaim against Rome ; but thia
power is no less an historical fact and a social phenomenon, which has filled
with admiration the most renowned men of modern times, including some Pro
testants. The Scriptures make it a duty for slaves to obey their masters, even
when they are oppressive and unjust. All that can be inferred from this is,
that a prince, by the simple fact of his being wicked, does not lose his authority
over his subjects, which condemns beforehand the errors of those who make
the right of commanding dependent upon the sanctity of its possessor. Such
a principle is anarchical, and incompatible with the existence of every society.
When it is once established, power remains unsafe and tottering; every dis
turber declares all those divested of authority whom he may deem culpable.
But our question is of a different nature, and the opinion of theologians cited
by us has nothing to do with this error. These theologians also on their part
advocate obedience to rulers, even though they be oppressive and unjust; they
also condemn insurrection, when founded on no other pretext than the vices
of persons exercising supreme power; they do not admit that any abuse of
power justifies resistance ; but they do not consider that they impugn the sacred
text by admitting that in extreme cases it is allowable to place a barrier
against the excesses of a tyrant. " If governments do not lose their power by
the simple fact of their being wicked, how," it will be said, " can we conceive
resistance to them lawful ?" This is certainly not allowable, so long as they
do not outstep the bounds of their faculties ; but when they do so, their com
mands, at St. Thomas says, are rather acts of violence than laws. " No one
has the right of judging the supreme power." This is true; but above this
power exist the principles of reason, morality, religion. Power, although
supreme, is bound to the execution of its promises, to keep its oaths. Society
is not formed upon the model of Rousseau's ideal contract; but there exist, in
certain cases, real pacts between the rulers and the people, to which both arc
bound to adhere.

In the celebrated Catholic Proclamation to his pious Majesty Philip the Great,
King of Spain and Emperor of the Indies by the Counsellors and the Council
of One Hundred of the city of Barcelona, in 1640, an epoch so profoundly reli
gious that the Counsellors quote, as a high title of glory, the zeal of the Cata-
loniansfor the Catholic faith, the devotion of the Catalonians to our lady the
Blessed Virgin and the most holy Sacrament ; — at that time, which pride and
ignorance have so often taxed with fanaticism, these counsellors said to the
king, " Besides civil obligation, the customs, constitutions, and acts of the
court of Catalonia are binding on conscience, and to violate them would be .a
mortal sin ; for the prince has no right to annul a contract ; it is made freely,
but cannot be revoked without injustice. If a contract is not subject to the
civil law, it is subject to the law of reason; and although the prince may be
the master of the laws, the contracts he makes with his vassals are inviolable,
for in making them he is a mere individual, and the vassal acquires a right
equal to his. A contract, in fine, should be made between equals. Hence, as
the vassal cannot be unfaithful to his lord, the latter, in like manner, is bound
to keep the promise he has made by solemn engagement ; and indeed, the
rupture of a pact ought least of all to be expected on the part of a prince. If

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 341

the word of a king is law, that word given in a solemn contract is still in or*
binding. (Catholic Proclamation, sect. 27.) The courtiers urged the monarch
to measures of coercion to reduce the Catalonians to submission; the Castilian
army was preparing to enter the principality. In this extremity, after
exhausting all means of representation and entreaty, the counsellors thus
expressed themselves : " Finally, men who have vowed an inveterate hatred
against the Catalonians have been so successful in their continual persuasions,
that the uprightness and equity of your majesty have been turned from the
means of peace and tranquillity proposed by us, and which should have been
admitted, were it only on the grounds of experience ; and to fill up the cup of
their malice, they now lay your majesty under an obligation of oppressing the
principality still further, by sending an army to sack and pillage wherever the
caprice of the soldier may lead him ; which would place this country in a posi
tion to say (were it not for the love it has borne, still bears, and ever will bear
to your majesty) that such a breach of sworn faith would leave it free, a thing
of which the province is unwilling to think, and prays God to avert. Never
theless, the principality knows from experience that these soldiers have neither
respect nor pity for any thing or person, married women and innocent virgins,
temples, or God Himself, images of the Saints or the sacred vessels of our
churches, nay, even the blessed Sacrament has twice this year been committed
to the flames by these soldiers. The principality is, therefore, everywhere in
arms to defend, in such an urgent and irremediable extremity, fortune, life,
honor, liberty, home, laws, and above all the sacred temples, the sacred imayes,
and the holy Sacrament of the altar (be the same for ever praised). In such a
case, (he holy thcolo(jia,ns do not merely affirm that resistance is lawful, but still
further, that all persons, whether lay or clerical, may take up arms to avert the
evil; that both secular and ecclesiastical property may and ought to contribute
to the defence; that the nations invaded may, as the cause is universal, unite,
confederate, and form juntas with a view to prevent such evils." (§ 36)

Such was the language addressed to kings, at a time when religion predomi
nated over all things. The counsellors, according to the usage of the time,
took care to make marginal notes of the sources of their information ; and we
are not aware that their doctrines have ever been condemned as heret:cal.
These doctrines cannot, without manifest dishonesty, be confounded with those
of many Protestants and modern revolutionists. A cursory perusal of these
writings will enable any one to discover how widely they differ. By maintain
ing that it is not allowable in any case, in the greatest extremities, not even
when the most precious and sacred interests are at stake, to offer resistance to
the civil power, the thrones of kings are thought to be strengthened ; for it is
generally kings that are spoken of. But it should be remembered, that this
doctrine affects every other supreme power, under every form of government.
Since the texts of Scripture recommending obedience " to the powers that be,"
dp not allude to kings only, but to all supreme powers, without exception or
distinction, it follows that resistance cannot in any case be offered to the pre
sident of a republic. Will it be said that the faculties of a president are
determined ? Are not the faculties of a king also determined ? Are there
not, in absolute governments, laws fixing the limits of these faculties ? And
is not this the distinction constantly employed by the supporters of monarchy
to repel the errors of their adversaries, who confound monarchy with despotism?
" But/' it will be said, " the president of a republic is only temporary." And
what if he were perpetual ? Besides, the faculties are neither increased nor
diminished by the simple fact of their having to last a long or short period.
If a council, a man, a family, is invested with a certain right, by virtue of a
certain law ; with certain restrictions, but with certain contracts and oaths ;
inch a council, such a man or sucb a family is bound to adhere to the oatb

342 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

taken, whatever be the extent of its duration, temporary or perpetual Such
are the principles of natural right ; so certain and simple, that they tannot
present any difficulty.

Theologians, even those most attached to the Sovereign Pontiff, teach a doc
trine which we must notice here, on account of the analogy it bears to the point
under discussion. It is known that the Pope, when speaking ex cathedra, is
acknowledged to be infallible, but not as a simple individual ; and that, in this
latter capacity, he might fall into heresy. In this case, theologians are of
opinion that he would forfeit his dignity; some maintaining that he^ought to
be deposed, others that his deposition is the consequence of his having fallen
from the faith. Whichever of these opinions be admitted, in this case resist-
an3e would become allowable, for this reason, that the Pope would have
shamefully departed from the object of his institution, would have trampled on
the basis of the laws of the Church, which is her dogmas, and would conse
quently have nullified the promises and oaths of obedience made to him. Spe-
dalieri, in adducing this argument, observes, that kings are certainly not of
higher rank than Popes, — that power has been granted to both in cedificationem
non in destructionem ; adding, that if Sovereign Pontiffs authorize this doctrine
with relation to themselves, temporal sovereigns cannot object to its application

to them.

It is strange that the monarchical zeal of Protestants and incredulous philo
sophers imputes to the Catholic religion as a crime, that she has allowed it to
be maintained within her bosom, that, in certain cases, the subject may be
released from his oath of allegiance; whilst other philosophers of the same
school reproach it with having sanctioned despotism by its detestable doctrine
of non-resistance, as Dr. Beatty expresses it. The direct, indirect, and decla
ratory powers of the Popes have served as an admirable bugbear to intimidate
kings ; -the dangerous principles of theological works formed an excellent pre
text for raising the cry of alarm, for representing Catholicity as a nest of
seditious maxims. The hour of revolutions was struck, — circumstances were
changed, — fresh necessities arose, and men adapted their language to th^
times. The Catholics, a short time before seditious and regicidal, were then
declared abettors of despotism, fulsome adulators of civil power. Recently,
the Jesuits, leagued with the infernal policy of Rome, were everywhere under
mining thrones, to establish on their ruins the universal monarchy of the Pope ;
but the secret of this horrid plot was discovered, and fortunately so, for the
world was otherwise about to experience a frightful catastrophe. ^ But now that
the Jesuits are expelled, and are expiating their crimes in exile, the French
Revolution, the prelude to so many others, breaks out, and the aspect of affairs
changes immediately. Protestants and unbelievers, the supporters of ancient
discipline, the zealous adversaries of the abuses of the Court of Rome, fully com
prehending the new situation of affairs, hasten to conform to it. From that
moment, the Jesuits, the Catholics, the Pope, are no longer seditious or tyran
nicides, but Machiavelian supporters of tyranny, enemies of the liberty of the
people; and just as a league had been supposed to exist between the Jesuits
and the Pope for the foundation of a universal theocracy, there is now discov
ered, thanks to the investigations of these eminent philosophers and strict,
incorruptible Christians, an infamous pact between the Pope and kings to oppress,
enslave, and degrade the unfortunate human race.

The answer to this enigma may be thus briefly expressed. So long as kings
maintain their power and the peaceable possession of their thrones, so long as
Providence restrains the tempest, and the monarch, raising his proud head
towards heaven, commands the people with a lofty air, the Catholic Church
does not flatter him. " Thou art dust," she says to him, " and into dust thou
'halt return; power was given thee not unto destruction, but unto education $

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 841

tny faculties are great, but not boundless. God is thy judge, as weJ as thai
of the lowest of thy subjects." The Church is then accused of insolence; and
If any theologian should venture to investigate the origin of civil power, to
point out, with generous freedom, the duties to which this poorer is subject; to
*mte, in a word, with prudence upon public right, but without servility, the
Catholics are then declared seditious. But the tempest bursts, thrones are
overturned, revolution prevails, spills the blood of the people in torrents, cuts
off royal heads, and all in the name of liberty. The Church says : " This is
no liberty, but a succession of crimes ; the fraternity and equality which I have
taught, were never your orgies and guillotines." The Church then becomes a
viie flatterer; her words, her actions, have indubitably revealed that the
Sovereign Pontiff is the surest anchor of despotism; it has been proved that
the Court of Rome has been polluted by an infamous pact. (33)

CHAPTER LVI1.

POLITICAL SOCIETY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

WE have already seen what has been the conduct of the Christian religion
with respect to society ; that is to say, that not caring whether such or such
political forms were established in a country, she has ever addressed herself to
man, seeking to enlighten his understanding and to purify his heart, fully con
fident that when these objects were attained, society would naturally pursue a
safe course. This is sufficient to obliterate the reproach imputed to her of
being an enemy to the liberty of the people.

Protestantism has certainly never revealed to the world a single dogma
which exalts the dignity of man, nor created fresh motives of consideration
and respect, or closer bonds of fraternity. The Reformation cannot, therefore,
boast of having given the least impetus to the progress of modern nations; it
cannot, consequently, lay the least claim to the gratitude of the people in this
respect. But as it frequently happens that people lay aside main points and
set a great value on appearances ; and as Protestantism has been supposed to
accord much better than Catholicity with those institutions in which it is usual
to find guarantees for a high degree of liberty; we must draw a parallel.
Besides, we cannot omit it without betraying an ignorance of the genius of
this age, and authorizing the suspicion that Catholicity cannot derive any
advantage from such a comparison. In the first place, I will observe, that
those who look upon Protestantism as inseparable from public liberty do not
in this respect agree with M. Guizot, who cannot certainly be accused of any
want of sympathy for the Reformation. " In Germany," says this celebrated
publicist, " far from demanding political liberty, it has accepted, I should not
like to say political servitude, lui the absence of liberty." (Hist. Gen. de la
Civil, en Eur. tec. 12.)

I quote M. Guizot, because in Spain we are so accustomed to translations,
because we Spaniards have been led to suppose, that the best thing for us is to
believe foreigners on their bare word ; because amongst us, in questions of
importance, it is necessary to have recourse to foreign authorities ; and hence,
a writer who appears to slight such authorities, exposes himself to the risk of
being treated as an ignoramus, as one behind the age. Besides, with a certain
class of writers, the authority of M. Guizot is decisive. In fact, a multitude
of publications have appeared amongst us bearing the title of " Philosophy of
History," whose authors it is quite clear, have nsed the works of that French
writer as their text-books. Is this assertion, that Protestantism is the natural
bulwark of liberty, true or false, accurate or inaccurate ? What do history and

344 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

philosophy teach u» i>n this point ? Has Protestantism advanced the popular
cause, by contributing to the establishment and development of liberal form,
of government ? To place the question in its true light, and discuss it tho-
loughly, we must take a view of the state of Europe at the close of the fifteenth
century, and at the beginning of the sixteenth. It is incontestable that indi
viduals aud society were then making rapid progress towards perfection. We
have sufficient evidence of this fact in the wonderful march of intellect at this
period, in the numerous measures of improvement effected at that epoch, and
in the better organization everywhere introduced. This organization is doubt-
less still imperfect; but it is nevertheless such as cannot be likened to that of
former times. If we carefully examine into the state of society at that epoch,
as represented either in the writings or in the events of the time, we shall
observe a certain restlessness, anxiety, and fermentation, which, while they
indicated the existence of vast wants not yet satisfied, were evidence also of a
tolerably distinct knowledge of those wants. Far from discovering in the men
of that period a contempt or forgetfulness of their rights and dignity, or any
discouragement and pusillanimity at the sight of obstacles, we find them
abounding in foresight and ingenuity, swayed by lofty and sublime thoughts,
fired with noble sentiments, and animated with intrepid and ardent courage.
The progress of European society at that epoch was very rapid ; three very
remarkable circumstances contributed to render it so : 1. The introduction of
the whole body of men to the rank of citizens, as a necessary consequence of
the abolition of slavery and the decline of feudality ; 2. The very nature of civi
lization, in which every thing advances together and abreast; 3. In fine, the
existence of a means for increasing its development and rapidity — this means
was the art of printing. To make use of a physico-mathematical expression,
we may say, that the amount of motion must have been very considerable, since
it was the product of the mass by the rapidity, and that the mass, as well as
the rapidity, were then very considerable.

This powerful movement, which proceeds from good, is in itself good, and
is productive of good, is, however, accompanied by inconveniences and perils ;
it raises flattering hopes, but it also inspires apprehensions and fears. The
people of Europe are an ancient people, but they may be said to have become
young again ; their inclinations, their wants, urge them to great enterprises ;
and they enter upon them with the ardor of an impetuous and inexperienced
young man, feeling in his breast a great heart, and in his head the lively spark
jf genius. In this situation, a great problem presents itself for solution, viz.,
to find the most proper means for directing society without impeding its pro
gress; and for conducting it by a way free from precipices to the objects of its
aim, intelligence, morality, felicity. A slight glance at this problem startles us
at its immense extent ; so numerous are the objects it embraces, the relations
it bears, the obstacles and difficulties with which it is beset. Considering this
question attentively, and comparing it with man's weakness, the mhid is ready
to lose courage and despond. The problem, however, exists, not as a scientific
speculation, but as a real and urgent necessity. In such a case, society is like
individuals ; it attempts, essays, and makes efforts to get clear of the difficulty
as well as possible.

Man's civil state improves daily; but to maintain this improvement, and to
perfect it, requires a means : and this is the problem of political forms. What
ought these forms to be ? And, above all, what elements can we make use
of? What is the respective force of these elements? What are their tenden
cies, their relations, their affinities ? How shall they be combined ? Monarchy^
Aristocracy, !)ei.,ocracy— 'these three po~c^ present themselves at the same
time to disp e for tire direction and goverr ,.ent of society. They are certainly
not equal, eituer in force, mea^s of action, or in practical intelligence ; but

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 34S

they all command our respect, they have all pretensions to a preponderance
more or less decisive, and none of them are without the probability of obtaining
it. This simultaneons concurrrence of pretensions, this rivalship of three
powers so different in their nature and aim, forms one of the leading features
of this epoch. It is, as it were, in a great measure the key to the principal
events; and, in spite of the various aspects presented by this feature, it may
be signalized as a general fact among all the civilized portion of the nations
of Europe.

Before proceeding further in our examination of this subject, the mere indi
cation of such a fact suggests the reflection, that it must be very incorrect to
say that Catholicity has tendencies opposed to the true liberty of the people ;
for we see that European civilization, which, during so many ages, was under
the influence and guardianship of this religion, did not then present one single
principle of government exclusively predominating. Survey the whole of
Europe at this period, and you will not lind one country in which the same
fact did not exist. In Spain, France, England, Germany, under the names
of Cortes, States-General, Parliaments, or Diets ; the same thing everywhere,
with the simple modifications which necessarily result from circumstances
adapted to each people. What is very remarkable in this case is, that if there
be a single exception, it is in favor of liberty ; and, strange to say, it exists
precisely in Italy, where the influence of the Popes is immediately felt. The
names of the Republics of Genoa, Pisa, Sienna, Florence, Venice, are familiar to
all. It is well known that Italy is the country in which popular forms at that
period gained most ground, and in which they were put in practice, whilst in
other countries they had already abandoned the field. I do not mean to say
that the Italian Republics were a model worthy of being imitated by the
other nations of Europe. I am well aware that these forms of government
were attended with grave inconveniences ; but since so much is said of spirit
and tendencies, since the Catholic Church is reproached with her affinity to
despotism, and the Popes with a taste for oppression, it is well to adduce those
facts which may serve to throw some doubt upon certain authoritative asser
tions, adduced as so many philosophico-historical dogmas. If Italy preserved
her independence in spite of the efforts of the Emperors of Germany to wrest
it from her, she owed it in a great part to the firmness and energy oi the Popes.

In order to comprehend fully the relations which Catholicity bears to political
institutions, in order to ascertain what degree of affinity it bears to such and
such forms, and to form a correct idea of the influence of Protestantism in this
respect over European civilization, we must examine carefully and in detail
each of the elements claiming preponderance. When we examine them after
wards in their relations with each other, we will ascertain, as far as possible,
where the truth lies in this shapeless mass. Every one of these three may be
considered in two ways : 1. According to the ideas formed of them at the period
we are speaking of; 2. According to the interests these elements represent, and
the part they, play in society. We must lay particular stress upon this dis
tinction, without which we should expose ourselves to the commission of serious
errors. In fact, the ideas which were entertained upon such or such principles
of government did not coincide with the interest represented by this same
element, and with the part it acted m society ; and although it is clear that
these two things must have had very close relations with each other, and could
not be disengaged from a real and reciprocal influence, yet it is most certain
that they differ considerably, and that this difference, the source of very various
considerations, slow? the subject in points of view quite dissimilar.
44

846

CHAPTER LVIII.

MONARCHY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

THE id<M* of monarchy has ever existed in the bosom of Eunp,.an society,
even at the time when the least use was made of it ; and it is worthy of remark,
that at the time when its energy was taken away, and it was destroyed in
practice, it still retained its force in theory. We cannot say that our ancestors
Lad any very fixed notions upon the nature of the object represented by this
idea , nor can we wonder at it, since the continual variations and modifications
which they witnessed must have prevented them from forming any very correct
knowledge of it. Nevertheless, if we peruse the codes in places where monarchy
is treated of, and if we consult the writings which have been preserved upon
this matter, we shall find that their ideas on this point were more fixed than
might have been imagined. By studying the manner of thinking of this period,
we find that men in general were almost destitute of analytical knowledge,
being more erudite than philosophical ; so much so, that they scarcely ventured
to express an idea without supporting it by a multitude of authorities. This
taste for erudition, which is visible at the first glance into their writings — a
mere tissue of quotations — and which must have been very natural, since it
was so general and lasting, had very advantageous results ; not the least of
which was the uniting of ancient with modern society, by the preservation of
a great number of records and memorials, which, had it not been for this public
taste, must have been destroyed, and by exhuming from the dust the remains
of antiquity about to perish. But, on the other hand, it produced many evils j
amongst others, a sort of stifling of thought, whic\ could no longer indulge in
its own inspirations, although they may have been more happy than the ancient
ones on some points.

However it may be, such is the fact : on examining it in relation to the
matter under discussion, we find that monarchy was represented at that time
as one single picture, in which there appeared at the same time the kings of
the Jews and the Roman emperors, whose features had been corrected by the
nand of Christianity. That is to say, the principles of monarchy were com
posed of the teachings of Scripture and the Roman codes. Seek every where
the idea of emperor, king, or prince, you will always find the same tiling,
whether you look for the origin of power, its extent, its exercise, or its object.
But what ideas were entertained of monarchy ? What was the acceptation of
this word ? Taken in a general sense, abstractedly from the^ various modifica
tions which a variety of circumstances gave to its signification, it meant, thf.
supreme command over society, vested in the hands of one man, who was to exercise,
it according to reason and justice. This was the leading idea, the only one
fixed, as a sort of pole, round which all other questions revolved. Did the
monarch possess in himself the faculty of making laws without consulting
general assemblies, which, under different names, represented the different
classes of the kingdom ? From the moment that we propose this question we
come upon new ground. We have descended from theory to practice ; we have
brought our ideas into contact with the object to which they are to be applied.
From that moment, we must allow, every thing vacillates and becomes obscure ;
a thousand incoherent, strange, and contradictory facts pass before our eyes •
the parchments upon which are inscribed the rights, liberties, and laws of the
people give rise to a variety of interpretations, which multiply doubts and
increase difficulties. We see, in the first place, that the relations of the
monarch with the subject, or, more properly speaking, the mode in which
government should be exercised, was not very well defined. The confusion

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 347

from which society was emerging was still felt, and was inevitable ij an aggre
gation of heterogeneous bodies, in a combination of rival and hostile elements j
that is, we discover an embryo, and consequently it is impossible as yet to find
regular and well-defined forms.

Did this idea of monarchy contain* any thing of despotism, any thing that
subjected one man to the dominion of another by setting aside the eternal laws
of reason and justice? No; from the moment that we touch upon this point
we discover a new horizon, clear and transparent, upon which objects present
themselves distinctly, without a shade of dimness or obscurity. The answer
of all writers is decisive : Rule ought to be conformable to reason and justice;
if it is not, it is mere tyranny. So that the principle maintained by M. Guizot,
in his Discours sur la Democratic modrrne, and in his History of Civilisation in
Europe, viz. that the will alone does not constitute a right ; that laws, to be
laws, should accord with those of eternal reason, the only source of all legiti
mate power ; — that this principle, I say, which we might imagine to be newly
applied to society, is as ancient as the world. Acknowledged by ancient
philosophers, developed, inculcated, and applied by Christianity, we find it in
every page of jurists and theologians.

But we know what this principle was worth in the monarchies of antiquity,
and also in our own days in countries where Christianity has not yet been
established. Who, in such countries, presumes continually to remind kings
of their obligation to be just ? Observe, on the contrary, what is the case
among Christians: the words 'reason' and 'justice' are constantly in the
mouth of the subject, because he knows that no one has a right to treat him
unreasonably or unjustly ; and this he knows, because Christianity has impressed
him with a .profound idea of his own dignity, because it has accustomed him to
look upon reason and justice, not as vain words, but as eternal characters
engraven on the heart of man by the hand of God, perpetually reminding man
that, although he is a frail creature, subject to error and to weakness, he is,
nevertheless, stamped with the image of eternal truth and of immutable justice.
If any one should question the truth of what I have advanced, it will suffice,
to convince him, to remind him of the numerous texts previously cited in this
work, and in which the most eminent Catholic writers bear testimony to their
manner of thinking on the origin and faculties of civil power.

So much for ideas ; as for facts, they vary according to times and countries.
During the incursions of the barbarians, and so long as the feudal system
prevailed, monarchy remained much beneath its typical idea; but during the
course of the sixteenth century, matters assumed a different aspect. In Germany,
France, England, and Spain, powerful monarchs were reigning, who filled the
world with the fame of their names ; in their presence aristocracy and democracy
bowed with humility ; or if by chance they ventured to raise their heads, it
was only to suffer still greater degradation. The throne, it is true, had not yet
attained that ascendency of power and importance which it acquired in the
following century; but its destiny was irrevocably fixed — power and glory
awaited it. A'ristocracy and democracy might have labored to take part in
future events ; but it would have been labor in vain for them to attempt to
appropriate them. A fixed and powerful centre was essential to European
society, and monarchy completely satisfied this imperative necessity. The
people understood and felt it ; hence we find them eagerly grasping at this
saving principle, and placing themselves under the safeguard of the throne.

The question is not, therefore, whether or not the throne ought to exist, or
whether it ought to preponderate over aristocracy and democracy : these two
questions :iave been already resolved. At the commencement of the sixteenth
century, its existence and preponderance were already necessary. The question
to iw resolved is, whether the throne ought so decisively to have prevailed,

848 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

that the two elements, aristocracy and democracy, should be erased from tin
political world ; whether the combination which had hitherto existed was still
to exist : or, whether these two elements should disappear; whether monarchical
power should be absolute. The Church resisted royal power when it attempted
to lay hands upon sacred things ; but her zeal never carried her so far as to
depreciate, in the eys of the people, an authority which was so essential to them.
On the contrary, besides continually giving to the power of kings a more
solid basis, by her doctrines favorable to all legitimate authority, she en
deavored to give them a still more sacred character by the august ceremonies
displayed at their coronations. The Church has been sometimes accused of
anarchical tendencies, for having energetically struggled against the pretensions
of sovereigns ; by some, on the contrary, she has been reproached with fa
voring despotism, because she preached up to the people the duty of obedi
ence to the lawful authorities. If I mistake not, these accusations, so opposite
to each other, prove that the Church has neither been adulatory nor anarchical ;
she has maintained the balance even, by telling the truth both to kings and
their subjects.

Let the spirit of sectarianism seek, on all sides, historical facts, to prove
that the Popes have attempted to destroy civil monarchy by confiscating it to
their own profit. But let us bear in mind what the Protestant Miiller says,
that the Father of the faithful was, during the barbarous ages, a tutor sent by
Grod to the European nations ; and let us not be astonished to find that dif
ferences have sometimes occurred between him and his pupils. To discover
the intention which dictated these reproaches against the Court of Rome,
relative to monarchy, we need only reflect upon the following question. All
writers consider as a great benefit the creation of a strong central authority,
and yet circumscribed within just limits that it may not abuse its power;
they laud to the skies every thing tending, directly or indirectly, among all
the nations of Europe, to establish such an authority. Why, then, when
speaking of the conduct of Popes, do they attribute to a pretended taste for
despotism the support which they give to royal authority, whilst they qualify
with anarchical usurpation their efforts to restrain, upon certain points, the
faculties of sovereigns ? The answer is not difficult. (84)

CHAPTER LIX.

THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

THE aristocracy, as including the privileged portion of society, comprehended
two classes very distinct in their origin and nature, the nobility and the clergy.
Both abounded in power and riches ; both were placed far above the people,
and were important wheels in the political machine. There was, however, this
remarkable difference between them, that the principal basis t3f the power and
grandeur of the Clergy was religious ideas — ideas which circulated throughout
society, which animated it, gave it life, and consequently insured for a long
time the preponderance of the ecclesiastical power; whilst the grandeur and
influence of the nobles rested solely upon a fact necessarily transient, viz. the
social organization of the epoch — an organization which was becoming rapidly
modified, since the people were then struggling to liberate themselves from the
bonds of feudalism. I do not mean, that the nobles did not possess legitimate
rights to the power and influence which they exercised ; but merely that the
principal portion of these rights, even supposing them founded upon the most
just laws and titles, was not necessarily connected with any of the great con-
mrvative principles of society — those principles which invest with an iminensa

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 348

force and ascendency the person or class which in any way represents them.
But we touch here upon a subject little investigated, and upon the explanation
of which depends the comprehension of great social facts. It is well, therefore,
to develope it fully, and to examine it attentively.

Of what was monarchy the representative ? Of a principle eminently con
servative of society — a principle which has withstood all the attacks of theories
and revolutions, and to which have been attached, as the only anchor of safety,
those very nations in the bosom of which democratical ideas were diffused, and
in which liberal institutions originated. This is one of the causes why
monarchy, even in its most calamitous times, triumphed over its disasters.
Feudal pride, and the unsettled state of the times, with the agitation of rising
democracy, united to oppress it; scarcely was its power distinguishable amid
the troubled waves of society, like the broken mast of a shipwrecked vessel.
But, even at this time, we find the ideas of force and power bound to those of
monarchy. Regal dignity was trampled under foot and outraged in various
ways, but still held sacred and recognised as inviolable. Theory was not in
accordance with practice; the idea was more forcible than the fact which it
expressed : but we need not be astonished at this phenomenon, since such is
always the character of ideas producing great changes. They are, at first,
merely visible in society ; they spread, take root, and penetrate into all insti
tutions; time continues to prepare the way; and if the idea is just and moral,
if it point to the satisfaction of a want, the moment at length comes in which
facts give way, the idea triumphs, and bends and humbles all before it. Thia
was the case, in the sixteenth century, with regard to monarchy ; under one
form or another, with greater or less modifications, it was actually essential to
the people, as it is still; and for this reason it naturally prevailed over all its
adversaries, and survived all accidents.

With respect to the clergy, we need not attempt to show that they were the
representatives of the religious principle — a real social necessity for all the
nations of the earth, when taken in its general sense ; and a real social neces
sity for the nations of Europe, when taken in its Christian sense.

We have already seen that the nobility could not be compared either to
monarchy or to the clergy, since they were destitute of the high principles
represented by each of these bodies. Extensive privileges, and the ancient
possession of great estates, with the guarantee of the laws and customs of the
time ; glorious traditions of military feats, pompous names, titles, and escutch
eons of illustrious ancestors; such were the insignia of the lay aristocracy. But
nothing of all this had any direct and essential relation with the great wants
of society. The nobility depended upon a particular organization, necessarily
transient; they were too nearly allied to a law purely positive and human, to
be able to reckon upon a long duration, or to flatter themselves with success in
all their pretensions and exigencies. It will be objected, perhaps, that the
existence of an intermediate class- between the monarch and the people is an
essential necessity, acknowledged by all publicists, and founded upon the very
nature of things'. In fact, we have seen that in nations from which the ancient
aristocracy has disappeared, a new one has been formed, either by the course
of events or by the action of governments. But this objection is not appli
cable to the question in the point of view under which I consider it. I do not
deny the necessity of an intermediate class ; I merely affirm that the ancient
nobility, such as it was, did not contain elements to ensure its duration, since
it was liable to be replaced by another, as it has been in effect. The classes
of the laity acquire their political and social importance from a superiority of
intellect and force; this superiority no longer existing in the nobility, its fall
was inevitable. At the beginning of the sixteenth century the throne and the
people daily acquired a greater ascendency; the former became the centre of

2E "

860 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITV.

all social forces, and the people were constantly enriching themselres bj
industry and commerce. With regard to learning, the discovery of printing,
as it became general, prevented it from being henceforth the exclusive patri
mony of any particular class.

It was evident,. therefore, that the nobility perceived, at this epoch, their
ancient power escaping, and possessed no other means of preserving a part of
it than to struggle to preserve the titles which it had given them. % Unfor
tunately for them, their wealth was daily decreasing, not only from the dilapi
dations occasioned by luxury, but also from the extraordinary increase of
non-territorial riches ; the profound changes wrought in the value of every
thing by means of the re-organization of society and the discovery of America
caused immovable property to lose much of its importance. If the force of
landed property was gradually diminishing, the rights of jurisdiction were
marching still more rapidly towards their ruin. On one hand, these rights
were opposed by the power of kings ; and, on the other, by municipalities and
other centres of action possessed by the popular element ; so that, in spite of
the most profound respect for acquired rights, and merely by allowing things
to take their ordinary course, the ancient nobility was inevitably sunk to that
point of depression in which it now exists. This could not happen to the
clergy. Despoiled of their wealth, entirely or partially deprived of their pri
vileges, there still remained for them the ministry of religion. No one could
exercise this ministry without them ; which was sufficient to insure them great
influence in spite of all commotions and changes.

CHAPTER LX.

ON DEMOCRACY.

SUCH was the situation of Europe during the centuries preceding the six
teenth, that it appears difficult to find for democracy a well-defined place in
political theories. Stifled by the established powers, deprived as yet of the
resources which, in time, gave it the ascendency, it was natural it should be
almost unobserved by politicians. It was in reality very feeble ; and it was
not, therefore, surprising that, owing to the influence of reality over ideas,
theorists should regard the people merely as an abject portion of society,
unworthy of honors or happiness, and fit only to labor and to serve. ^ It is,
however, worthy of remark, that ideas from that time took a new direction ; it
may even be affirmed that they were infinitely more elevated and more gener
ous than facts. This is one of the most convincing proofs of the intellectual
development that Christianity had operated amongst men — one of the most
unexceptionable testimonies in favor of that profound sentiment of reason and
justice which it had deposited in the heart of society. Now these elements
were not to be stifled by events the most unfavorable, nor by the rudest shocks;
for they were supported upon the very dogmas of religion, which still remain
firm, in spite of all commotion, as an immovable axis remains fixed in the midst
of broken machinery.

In perusing the writings of this epoch, we find established, as an indubitable
fact, the right of the people to the administration of justice ; they were not to
be irritated by any vexatious regulations; the public imposts were to be equally
divided ; no one was to be forced to do any thing contrary to reason or th«
well-being of society : that is to say, these writers acknowledged and established
all those principles upon which were to be based the laws and customs destined
one day to produce civil liberty. This is so true, that, in proportion as cir
cumstances permitted, these principles were rapidly and extensively developed j

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 851

fast and numerous applications were immediately made of them ; at-d civil
liberty took such deep root among the people of modern Europe, that it has
never been erased from their bosoms ; and we see it preserved in forms of abso
lute government as well as in the mixed forms.

To complete my demonstration, that the ideas in favor of the people pro
ceeded from Christianity, I will adduce a reason which appears to me decisive.
The philosophy adopted by the schools of that period was that of Aristotle.
Aristotle's authority was of great weight ; he was called by an autonomasia,
the Philosopher ; a good commentary of his works was considered the highest
point to be attained in these matters. And yet, so far as the relations of
society were concerned, the doctrines of the Stagyrite were not adopted;
Christian writers took a higher and more generous view of mankind. Aris
totle's degrading doctrines upon man born to servitude, destined to this end
even by nature, anterior to all legislation ; his horrible doctrines upon infanti
cide; his theories, which at one blow deprived all those who professed the
mechanical arts of the title of citizen ; in a word, those monstrous systems,
which the ancient philosophers unconsciously learned from the society which
surrounded thenf, were utterly rejected by Christian philosophers. The man
Hrho had just perused Aristotle's work on Politics took up his Bible, or the
works of the Fathers : the authority of Aristotle was great, but that of the
Church was still greater; the works of the pagan philosopher must be inter
preted piously, or abandoned ; in either case the rights of humanity were saved,
aud this was an effect of the preponderating force of the Catholic faith.

The system of castes most forcibly contributes to arrest the development of
tiie popular element, by condemning the majority of the people of a country
K) a state of perpetual abjection and slavery. In this system, honors, riches,
i.nd command are confined and transferred from father to son; a barrier sepa
rates men from each other, and ends in causing the most powerful to be con
sidered as belonging to a superior class of beings. The Church has ever
opposed the introduction of so fatal a system, and to apply the word caste to
the clergy would betray an ignorance of its meaning. On this subject M.
Guizot has done ample justice to the cause of truth. He expresses himself in
the following manner in the fifth lecture of his Hlstoire yen&rale de la Civilisa
tion en Europe: " With regard to the mode of formation and transmission of
power in the Church, there is a word/' says he, " much used in speaking of
the Christian clergy, and which I am under the obligation of discarding ; it is
the word caste. The body of ecclesiastical magistrates has often been called a
<5aste. This expression is not correct; the idea of heirship is inherent in that
of caste. Travel over the world ; take all those countries in which the system
of castes exists, in India, in Egypt, you will find everywhere the caste essentially
hereditary; it is the transmission of the same situation, of the same power,
from father to son. Where heirship does not exist, there is no caste, there is
a corporation ; the spirit of corporate bodies has its inconveniences, but it is
very different from that of castes. The word caste cannot be applied to the
Christian Church. The celibacy of the clergy has prevented them from
becoming a caste. You perceive already the consequences of this difference. A
system of caste, and the existence of hereditary succession, inevitably involve
vhe idea of privileges. The very definition of a caste implies privileges. When
the same functions, the same powers, become hereditary in the same families,
it is evident t,h»* privileges follow, and that no one can acquire such functions
and powers unless he is born to them. This, in fact, is what has taken place :
wherever religious government has fallen into the hands of a caste, it has
become a privilege; no one has been permitted to enter it but the members of
famines belonging to the caste. Nothing of this has ever occurred in the
Christian Church ; on the contrary, she has ever maintained the equal admissi-

552 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

bility of all men, whatever their origin, to all her functions, to all her digniti**
The ecclesiastical state, particularly from the fifth to the twelfth century, wat
open to all. The Church was recruited from all ranks, from the inferior as
well as from the superior,— more commonly even from the inferior. She alone
resisted the system of castes; she alone maintained the principle of equality
of competition ; she alone called all legitimate superiors to the possession of
power. This is the first grand result naturally produced by the fact teat she
was a corporation, and not a caste."

This splendid passage of the French writer completely vindicates the C
Church from the reproach of exclusiveness with which it had been attempted
to stain her : it presents to me also the opportunity of making some reflections
upon the beneficial effects of Catholicity upon the development of civilization
in favor of the plebeian classes. We are not ignorant of the numerous decla
mations against religious celibacy which have proceeded from the mouths of the
pretended defenders of the rights of humanity ; but is it not strange that they
forget, as M. Guizot justly observes, that celibacy is exactly what has prevented
the Christian clergy from becoming a caste ? Let us examine, in fact, what
would have been the case on the contrary supposition. At the time to which
we refer, the ascendency of religious power was unlimited, and the wealth of
the Church considerable; that is to say, she possessed every thing necessary
for enabling a caste to establish its preponderance and stability. What further
was needful, therefore? Hereditary succession, nothing more; and this would
have been established by the marriage of the clergy. What I here affirm is
no vain conjecture, it is a positive fact, which I can render evident by bringing
forward historical proof. From certain remarkable regulations in ecclesiastical
legislation, we learn that it required all the energy of pontifical authority to
prevent this succession from being introduced. Every thing, in fine, tended to
such an end; and if the Church preserved itself from such a calamity, it was
owino- to the horror which she always entertained of this fatal custom. Read
the 17th chapter of the first book of the Decretals of Gregory IX. ; the ponti-
Seal regulations therein contained prove that the evil here spoken of presented
alarming symptoms. The pope makes use of the strongest terms possible to be
found : ft Ad enormitatem istam eradicandam" " observato Apostolici rescripti
decreto quod successionem in Ecclesia Dei hereditariam detestatur." " Ad ex-
tirpandas s-uccessiones a sanctis Dei Ecclesiis studio totius sollicitudinis debemu*
intendere." " Quia igitur in Ecclesia successiones, et in prselaturis et digmta-
tibus ecclesiasticis statutis canonicis damnantur." These expressions, and others
of a like nature, clearly show that the danger was already considered serious,
and justify the prudence of the Holy See in reserving to itself the exclusive
right of granting dispensations on this point.

It required the continual vigilance of the pontifical authority to prevent this
abuse from making daily progress, for it was urged on by the most powerful
feelings of nature. Four centuries had elapsed since these measures had been
takenfand yet we find that, in 1533, Pope Clement VII. was obliged to restrict
a canon of Alexander III. in order to prevent grave scandals, grievously
lamented by the pious Pontiff. Suppose that the Church had not opposed such
an abuse with all her force, and that the custom had become general; bear in
mind also, that in those ages of the grossest ignorance, the privileged classes
were every thing, and the people had scarcely a civil existence; and see
whether there would not have been formed an ecclesiastical caste along with
that of the nobility, and whether both, united by the bonds of family and
common interest, would not have opposed an invincible obstacle to the ulterior
development of the plebeian class, plunging European society into that degrada-
tion in which Asiatic society now exists. Such would have been the consequence
of the marriage of the clergy, if the pretended reform had been realized a few

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 363

centuries sooner. When it came, at the beginning of the sixteenth century,
it found European society in a great measure formed ; it had to contend against
&n adult, who could not easily be made to forget his ideas and change his
habits. What has actually taken place may lead us to infer what would have
taken place. In England, a close alliance was formed between the lay aristo
cracy and the Protestant clergy ; and what is very remarkable, we have seen,
and we still see, in that country, something resembling castes, with the modifica
tions which must necessarily ensue from the great development of a certain
kmd of civilization and liberty at which Great Britain has arrived.

If the clergy in the middle age, establishing their perpetuity by hereditary
succession, had constituted themselves an exclusive class, would riot the aristo
cratic alliance of which we are speaking have been a natural consequence ?
And who would thenceforth have been able to break this alliance ? The enemies
of the Church interpret all her discipline, and even some of her dogmas, by
imputing to her ulterior designs; and hence they consider the law of celibacy
as the result of an interested design. It was easy to see, however, that if the
Church had entertained worldly views, she might hav,e selected as a model
those priests of other religions who have formed a separate, preponderating,
and exclusive class, for which the severity of duty did not form a brazen wall
against the enjoyments of nature. Europe, it will be objected, is not Asia
This is true; but the Europe of our days, and even that of the sixteenth
century, is no longer the.E]urope of the middle ages. In those centuries, in
which none but the clergy could read and write, and in which knowledge was
exclusively in their possession, had they wished to plunge the world into dark
ness, they had only to extinguish the torch with which they were enlightening
it. It is also very certain, that celibacy has given to the clergy a moral force
and ascendency which they could not have attained by any other means. But
Shis only proves that the Church has preferred moral to physical power, and
/hat the spirit of her institutions is to act by exercising a direct influence upon
the intelligence and heart of man. Now, is it not eminently praiseworthy to
use all possible moral means for the direction of mankind ? Is it not an honor
to the Catholic clergy to have accomplished, by institutions severe against
themselves, what they might have realized in part by systems indulgent to
their own passions and degrading to others ? Oh, we see here the work of Him
who will remain with -His Church till the end of tjie world.

Whatever may be the value of these reflections, it cannot be contested, that
where Christianity has not existed, the people have been the victims of a small
number, whose contempt and insults have been the only recompense of their
labors. Consult history and experience; the fact is general and constant;
there is not an exception even in those ancient republics so vaunted for their
liberty. Under liberal forms, slavery existed ; a slavery properly so called
for some men ; a slavery glossed over with fine appearances for that turbulent
multitude who served the caprice of the Tribunes, and believed they were exer
cising their sublime rights by condemning to ostracism or to death the most
'virtuous citizens.' It has sometimes happened that, among the Christians,
appearances were not in favor of liberty, but things were so in reality, if we
understand by the word liberty the empire of just laws, aiming at the well-
being of the multitude, and founded upon the consideration and profound
respect due to the rights of mankind. Observe the grand phases of European
society at the time when Catholicity exclusively predominated. With various
forms, distinct origins, different inclinations, they all follow the same course ;
all tend to favor the cause of the multitude ; whatever has this for its aim. en
dures ; whatever has not, perishes. Whence comes it that this was not the case
in other countries 1' If evident reasons and palpable facts, moreover, did not
manifest the salutary influence of the religion of Jesus Christ, so remarkablw
45 2 £ 2

864 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

a coincidence would suffice to suggest grave reflections to those, who medi
tate upon the cause and character of the events which change or modify tha
destiny of mankind. Let those who represent Catholicity as the enemy ol
the people, point out to us a single doctrine of the Church sanctioning the
abuses under which the people were suffering, or the injustice which oppressed
them. Let them show us whether, at the commencement of the sixteenth
century, when Europe was under the exclusive domination of the Catholio
religion, the people were not as far advanced as they could be, considering thtj
ordinary course of things. They certainly did not possess so much wealth aa
they have since acquired, and their knowledge was not so extensive as in modern
times; but is the progress which has been made in this respect attributable to
Protestantism ? Was not the sixteenth century commenced under more favor
able auspices than the fifteenth, and the lnt<er under better auspices than
the fourteenth? This proves that Europe, ui\d ,-r the shield of Catholicity, con
tinued in a progressive march ; that the rau je of the multitude suffered no
prejudice from the influence of Catholicity; and that if great ameliorations
have since boen effected, they have not been a consequence of what is called
the Reformation.

It i the development of industry and commerce that has most powerfully
contributed to elevate modern democracy, by diminishing the preponderance
of the aristocratic classes. I do not touch upon the events which took place
in Europe before the appearance of Protestantism ; but I see at a glance that,
far from impeding such a movement, Catholic doctrines and institutions must
have favored it, since, under their shield and protection, the manufacturing
and mercantile interests were surprisingly developed. No one is ignorant of
their astonishing success in Spain : and we cannot attribute this progress to
the Moors; for Catalonia, subject exclusively to the Catholic influence, evinced
such activity, prosperity, and intelligence in industry and commerce, that we
could scarcely believe to what a state of perfection they had arrived, did not
unexceptionable documents bear ample testimony to the fact. Read the Histori
cal Memoirs of the Marine, Commerce, and Arts of the ancient City of Barcelona,
by our celebrated Capmany. May we not account it an honor to belong to
this Catalonian nation, whose ancestors displayed such zeal in all things, never
allowing other nations to surpass them in the march of civilization and im
provement ? Whilst this phenomenon was advancing in the south of Europe,
the association of the Hanseatic towns, the origin of which is lost in the centu
ries of the middle ages, was created in the north. It obtained in time such an
amount of power as to measure its force with that of kings. Its rich factories,
established all over Europe, and favored with many advantageous privileges,
elevated it to the rank of a real power. Not satisfied with the power which it
enjoyed in its own country, and in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, it extended
it to England and Russia. London and Novogorod admired the splendid
establishments of those intrepid merchants, who, by means of their wealth,
obtained exorbitant privileges; who had their own magistrates, and formed an
independent state in the centre of foreign countries.

It is very remarkable that the Hanseatic league selected religious commu
nities as their model, in all that concerned the system of life of the clerks in
their counting-houses. Their clerks ate in common, had common dormitories,
and none of them were allowed to marry. Any one of them transgressing this
law, forfeited his rights to remain a member or a citizen of the Hanseatio
Confederation. In France, the manufacturing classes were also organized, the
better to resist the elements cf dissolution existing in their bosom; and this
change, so fruitful in results, is entirely due to a king venerated upon il»e
altars of the Catholic Church. The Establishment for the Trades of Paris gave
a oowerful impetus to the industrial classes, by auarmentina: their intelligence

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLIC1T * , 356

»rd improring their morals; and whatever were the abuses that crept into
that organization, it cannot be denied that St. Louis satisfactorily supplied a
g7-eat want, by organizing the trades in the best manner possible, considering
how little progress had at that time been made. What shall we say of Italy,
containing within its bosom the powerful republics of Venice, Florence, Genoa^
and Pisa? It is difficult to conceive what progress industry had made in this
peninsula, and, as a natural consequence, what a development the democratical
element received. Had the influence in itself been so oppressive, had the
breath of the Roman court been fatal to the progress of the people, is it not
evident that its effects would have been particularly felt in those countries
which were the scene of its actions ? Whence conies it, then, that whilst a
great part of Europe was groaning under feudal oppression, the middle class,
whose only title to nobility was the fruit of their intelligence and labor,
appeared in Italy so powerful, so brilliant and flourishing ? I will not contend
that this development was attributable to the Popes ; but, at least, we must
grant that they never opposed it.

Now, if we observe a similar phenomenon in Spain, and particularly in
Aragon, where the Pontifical influence was great; if the same thing is observ
able in the north of Europe, inhabited by people whom Catholicity alone has
civilized ; if, in fine, the same phenomenon is realized, with greater or less
rapidity, in all countries exclusively subject to the belief and authority of the
Church, we may conclude that Catholicity contains nothing opposed to the
movement of civilization, and that it is not opposed to a just and legitimate
development of the popular element.

I cannot think how it is possible for any one who has read history to accord
to Protestantism the honor of being favorable to the interests of the multitude.
Its origin was essentially aristocratic ; and in those countries in which it has
succeeded in taking root, it has established aristocracy upon such firm founda
tions, that the revolutions of three centuries have not been able to overturn it.
Witness, for a proof of this, what has taken place in Germany, England, and
all the north of Europe. It has been said that Calvinism is more favorable to
the democratical element ; and that if it had prevailed in France it would have
established a system of federative republic in place of monarchy. Whatever
may be the value of this conjecture upon a change which would certainly not
have^been very beneficial to the future prospects of that nation, it is perfectly
certain that no other system than that of aristocracy would have been found
practicable in France ; for circumstances at that period would admit of nothing
else ; and the aristocrats who were at the head of religious innovation, would
admit of no other organization. Had Protestantism triumphed in France, it is
probable that the poor of that country, in imitation of their brethren in
Germany, would have claimed a share in the rich booty ; but they certainly
would not have found Calvin's proverbial harshness more advantageous to
them than the furious rashness of Luther was to the Germans. It is probable
that these wretched villagers, who, according to contemporary writers, had
nothing to eat but rye-bread, with no animal food, and slept upon a bundle of
straw, with a board for their pillow, would not have felt themselves more com
fortable than their brethren in Germany, had they thought proper to partici
pate in the effects of the new doctrines. In this case, they would not have
been punished, but exterminated, like their brethren beyond the Ilhine. In
England, the sudden disappearance of the monasteries produced pauperism.
Their property having fallen into the hands of laymen, the religious being
driven from their abodes, the poor who subsisted upon the alms of these holy
establishments were left without the means of subsistence. And observe, that
iho evil was not temporary ; it has continued to our own days, and is now one
of the greatest evils afflicting Great Britaic, I am aware that almsgiving is

356 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

said to encourage indolence ; but it is very certain that England, with hei
joor-laws and her legal charity, contains a far greater number of destitute
poor than Catholic countries. It will be difficult to convince me, that to let
people die of hunger is a good means of developing the popular element.
Protestantism must have contained something very repulsive to the democrats
of that period, since we find it rejected in Spain and Italy, the two countries
in which the people enjoyed the greatest share of prosperity and rights. And
this becomes still more worthy of attention, when we remark that religious inno
vation took root wherever the feudal aristocracy predominated. Look, it will
be said, at the United Provinces; but this example only proves that Protest
antism, determined to find supporters, willingly took part with the rnal-con-
tents. If Philip II. had been a zealous Protestant, the United Provinces
would probably have alleged that they were unwilling to remain any longer
subject to an heretical prince. These provinces were for a long time under
the exclusive influen/se of Catholicity, and yet they were prosperous ; the
popular element was developed in their bosom, without meeting any obstacle
on the part of religion. Exactly at the beginning of the sixteenth century
they made the discovery, that they could no longer prosper without abjuring
the faith of their ancestors. Observe the'geographical position of the United
Provinces ; see them surround-ed by reformists offering to assist them ; and
you will find in political considerations the reason which you may seek in vain
in imaginary affinity between the Protestant system and the interests of the
people. (35)

CHAPTER LXI.

ON THE VALUE OP THE DIFFERENT POLITICAL FORMS — CHARACTER OF
MONARCHY IN EUROPE.

THE enthusiasm enkindled in Europe in latter times, has cooled down \>y
degrees ; experience has shown that a political organization not in accordance
with the social organization is of no advantage to a nation, but rather over
whelms it with evil. Men also understand, and not without difficulty, simple
as the matter is, that political systems should be regarded solely as a means of
ameliorating the condition of the people, and that political liberty, to be at all
rational, must be made a medium for the acquisition of civil liberty. Amongst
enlightened men, these are ordinary ideas ; fanaticism for such or such political
forms, considered abstractly from their civil results, is now abandoned as a
thing denoting ignorance, or as a discreditable means hypocritically made use
of by the ambitious, devoid of real merit, whose only way to fortune is disturb
ance and revolution. It cannot, however, be denied that, considered as simpk
instruments, certain political forms, such as mixed, moderate, constitutional,
or representative governments, or whatever they be designated, have acquired
in ^ some countries consideration and solidity; and that, in many countries, any
principle which might be considered opposed to representative forms, and only
favorable to absolute ones, would be repudiated beforehand. Civil liberty -has
become necessary to the people of Europe; and in some nations the idea of this
liberty is so identified with that of political liberty, that it is difficult to explain
how civil liberty can exist under an absolute monarchy. We must therefore
examine what are the tendencies of the Catholic and those of the Protestant
religions I will proceed so as to discover these tendencies by an impartial
analysis of historical facts. Never, perhaps, as M. Guizot felicitously observes,
were the natural course of things, and the hidden ways of Providence, less
understo>l. Wheresoever we meet not with assemblies, election.-,, urns, and

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 857

votes, we imagine power must be absolute, and liberty unprotected. I have
an express design in making use of the word tendencies, because it is clear that
Catholicity has no dogma on this point — it does not pronounce upon the
advantages of any particular form of government. The Roman Pontiff
acknowledges equally as his son the Catholic seated upon the bench of an
American Assembly, and the most humble subject of the most powerful
monarch. The Catholic religion is too prudent to descend upon any such
ground. Emanating from heaven itself, she diffuses herself, like the light of
the sun, over all things, enlightens and strengthens all, and is never obscured
or tarnished. Her object is to conduct man to heaven, by furnishing him on
his passage with great assistance and consolation upon earth ; she ceases not
to point out to him eternal truths ; she gives him in all his affairs, salutary
counsels; but the moment we come to mere details, she has no obligation to
impose, no duty to enjoin. She impresses upon his mind her sacred maxims
of morality, admonishing him never to depart from them ; like a tender mother
speaking to her son, she says to him, " Provided you depart not from my
instructions, do what you consider most expedient."

But is it true that there is in Catholicity at least a tendency to obstruct
liberty ? What has been the result of Protestantism in Europe with regard
to political forms ? In what has it corrected or ameliorated the work of Catho
licity ? In the centuries preceding the sixteenth, the organization of European
society was so complicated, the development of all the intellectual faculties had
arrived at such a point, rhe contention of interests was so lively, in fine, every
nation was so enlarged by the successive agglomeration of provinces, that a
central, forcible, energetic power, predominating over all individual preten
sions and those of classes, was indispensable to the peace and prosperity of the
people. Europe had no other hope for peace ; for wherever there exist? a
great number of various, opposite, and all powerful elements, a regulating
action is necessary to prevent violent shocks, to calm excessive ardor, to moder
ate the rapidity of motion, to prevent a continual war, which would necessa
rily lead to destruction and chaos. This immediately gave to the monarchical
principle a fresh and irresistible impulse; and as this impulse was felt in every
European country, even in those possessing republican institutions, it evidently
resulted from causes that lay deep in the social condition of the times. At the
present day there is not a publicist of any note who would question these truths.
During the last half century, in fact, events have occurred well calculated to
demonstrate that in Europe monarchy is something more than usurpation and
tyranny. In the very countries in which democratical ideas have taken root,
it has been found necessary to modify them, and in some degree to depart from
them, in order to preserve the throne, which is regarded as the best safeguard
of the great interests of society.

It is the infirmity of all things human, however good and salutary they may
be, always to bring with them an accompaniment of inconveniences and evils.
Monarchy could not evidently be exempt from this general rule ; in other words,
the great extension of force and power was sure to produce abuse and excess.
The European nations are not of a sufficiently patient character, nor of a suffi
ciently moderate temperament, to endure with resignation all sorts of disorders.
The European entertains so profound an idea of his dignity, that he cannot
comprehend the quietism of the Oriental nations, living in the midst of degra
dation, bowing their slavish heads before the despot who despises and oppresses
them. Hence, whilst we in Europe acknowledge and feel the necessity of a
very strong power, we have always endeavored to take measures for restraining
and preventing the abuse cf this power. Nothing exalts so much the grandeur
and dignity of .the European nations as the comparison of them with those of
Asia. The latter have no better means of delivering themselves from opprea

868 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

sion than the assassination of their sovereigns. Whilst the blood of o»i
monarch is still warm, another ascends his throne, trampling with a disdainful
foot on the heads of nations as cruel as they are degraded. Not so in Europe ;
we have always recourse to intellectual means ; we have established institu
tions which lastingly protect the people from oppression and excesses. We
cannot deny that our efforts have cost torrents of blood, or affirm that we have
always adopted the most expedient means ; but on this point Europe, guided
by the same spirit as in all other matters, has become anxious to substitute
figbt in the place of mere might. This is no recent problem ; it existed when
European society was in its infancy, and in these latter times has been over
looked. Great efforts were made many centuries ago to resolve it. Observe
how Count de Maistre states his opinions on this difficult problem :

" Although the greatest and most general interest of sovereignty consists in
its being just, and although the cases in which it transgresses this condition
are incomparably fewer than the others, unfortunately it does, however, fre
quently transgress it ; and the particular character of certain sovereigns may so
far augment these inconveniences, that in order to render them supportable,
it is necessary to compare them with those which would exist if there were no
sovereign. It was therefore impossible that men should net, from time to
time, make efforts to secure themselves against the excess of this enormous
prerogative; but on this point the world has adopted two widely different
systems. The daring tribe of Japheth has at all times been gravitating (if we
may use the expression) towards what is termed liberty ; that is, towards that
social condition in which the influence of the governing powers is least sensibly
felt. Ever jealous of his rights and liberties, the European has sought to pre
serve them, sometimes by expelling his rulers, and at other times by opposing
to them the barrier of law. He has tried every thing, every imaginable form of
government, to set himself free from his rulers, or to restrain their power.

"The immense posterity of Shem and Cham have pursued another course.
From the earliest ages down to our own tir^e they have always said to their fellow-
men, Do whatever you please, and when we are tired ice will put you to death.
Besides, they have never been able or willing to comprehend the nature of a
republic ; the balance of power, all those privileges, all those fundamental laws
of which we are so proud, are totally unknown to them. Among them, the
richest and most independent man, the possessor of immense movable wealth,
absolutely at liberty to transport it whither he pleases, sure, moreover, of
entire protection upon European ground, and threatened at borne with the
rope or the dagger, prefers them, nevertheless, to the misery of dying of ennui
among us. But no one will ever think of recommending to Europe the public
law of Asia and Africa, so short and clear; but as power in Europe is always
so much feared, discussed, attacked, or transferred, since nothing so much
wounds our pride as despotic government, the most general European prcbleip
is to know how sovereign power may be restrained without being destroyed.'' (Dr
Pape, liv. ii. chap. 2.)

This spirit of political liberty, this desire of limiting power by means ^f in
stitutions, did not originate with the French philosophers; before theii ticie
and long before the appearance of Protestantism, it was circulating in the vein*
of the European people. History has left us irrefragable testimonies of this
truth. What institutions were deemed suitable for the accomplishment of this
object? Certain assemblies, in which the voice of the nation's interests and
opinions might be heard — assemblies formed in various ways, and meeting from
time to time around the throne to make their complaints and assert their
claims. As it was impossible for these assemblies to constitute the government
without destroying the monarchy, it was necessary, in one way or another, tc
•ecure their influence in state affairs; and I do not see that anything bettei

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 359

ha? hitherto been devised for attaining this object than the right of interven
tion in the enactment of laws, a right guaranteed to them by another, that
may be justly termed the right arm of national representation, — the right of
voting the supplies. Much has been written respecting constitutions and
representative governments, but this is the essential point. Many and various
iLodifications may be introduced, but in reality all consists in the establishment
of the throne as the centre of power and of action, surrounded by assemblies
that shall deliberate upon the laws and the taxes.

Does political liberty in this point of view originate in Protestant ideas ? Is
it under any obligation to them ? Has it, in fine, any reproach against
Catholicity ? I open the works of Catholic writers anterior to Protestantism,
in order to ascertain their sentiments on this subject, and I find that they take
a clear view of the problem to be solved. I examine rigidly whether they
teach anything opposed to the progress of the world, to the dignity or the
rights of man ; I examine, again, whether they bear any affinity to despotism
or to tyranny, and I find them full of sympathy for the progress of enlight
enment and of mankind, inflamed with noble and generous sentiments, and
zealous for the happiness of the-multitude. I remark, indeed, that their heart8
swell with indignation at the mere names of tyranny and despotism. I open
the records of history ; I study the opinions and customs of the nations, and
the predominating institutions; I behold on all sides nothing but fuerosr
privileges, liberty, cortes, states-general, municipalities, and juries. All thia
appears in the greatest confusion, but. I see it ; and 1 am not astonished to
discover an absence of order, for it is a new world just arisen from chaos. ]
ask myself if the monarch possesses in himself the faculty of making laws ; and
upon this question I very naturally find variety, uncertainty, and confusion ;
but I observe that the assemblies representing the different classes of the nation
take part in the enactment of the laws. I ask whether they have any inter-
ference in the great affairs of the state ; and I find it stated in the codes that
they are to be consulted on all grave and important affairs : I see monarch*
frequently observing this precept. I ask whether these assemblies possess any
guarantees for their existence and their influence ; and the codes inform me by
the most decisive texts, and a thousand facts are at hand to convince me, that
these institutions were deeply rooted in the customs and manners of the people.

Now what was then the predominating religion ? Catholicity. Were the
people much attached to religion ? So much so that the spirit of religion
predominated over all. Did the clergy possess great influence ? Very great
What was the power of the Popes ? It was immense. Where do you find the
clergy attempting to extend the power of kings to the prejudice of the people?
Where are the pontifical decrees against such or such forms? Where are
the measures and plans of the Popes for the restriction of one single legitimate
right ? No reply. Then I say indignantly, Europe, under the influence of
Catholicity, arose from chaos to order, civilization advanced at a firm and
steady pace, the grand problem of political forms engaged the attention of men
of wisdom, questions of morality and laws were receiving a solution favorable
to liberty, and yet the influence of the clergy was never greater even in tem
poral matters, and the power of the Popes was in every sense quite colossal.

What ! one word from the Sovereign Pontiff would have smitten unto death
every form of popular government; and yet such forms were receiving a rapid
development. Where, then, is the tendency of the Catholic religion to enslave
the people ? Whore the infamous alliance between kings and Popes to oppress
and harass the people, to establish on the throne a ferocious despotism, and to
rejoice under its gloomy shades over the misfortune and tears of mankind ?
When the Popes had a quanel with any kingdom, was it usually with thu
king or the people? When it was necessary to oppose a firm front against

360 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

tyranny and oppression, who stood forward more promptly or more firmly than
the Sovereign Pontiff? Does not Voltaire himself admit that the Popes
restrained princes, protected the people, put an end to the quarrels of the time
by a wise intervention, reminded both kings and people of their duties, and
hurled anathemas against those enormities which they could not prevent?
(Quoted by M. de Maistre, Du Pope.}

It is very remarkable that the Bull In Coetw Domini, which created so much
alarm, contains in its fifth article an excommunication against " those who should
levy new taxes upon their estates, or should increase those already existing beyond
the bounds marked out by right.'' The spirit of deliberation, so common even
at this period, and which formed so singular a contrast with the tendency to
violent measures, arose in a great measure from the example given by the
Catholic Church during so many centuries. In fact, it is. impossible to point
out a society in which more assemblies have been held, combining in them
every thing distinguished by science and virtue. General, national, provincial
Councils arid diocesan synods are to be met with in every page of \the Church's
history. Such an example, exposed during centuries to the view of the people,
sould not fail to influence and affect customs and laws. In Spain the greatest
part of the Councils of Toledo were also national congresses; whilst the epis-
sopal authority performed its functions in them, watching over the purity of
dogmas, and providing for the wants of discipline, the great affairs of the state
were also discussed in them in harmony with the secular power. In them. were
enacted those laws which are still an object of admiration to modern observers.
The Utopias of Rousseau are now fallen into complete disrepute among the best
publicists. Representative governments are no longer to be defended as a
means of bringing the general will into action, but as an instrument, through
the medium of which reason and good sense may be consulted, which would
otherwise remain dispersed throughout the nation. Legislative assemblies are
now represented to us, in works upon constitutional law, as the foci in which
all knowledge serving to throw light on the difficulties of public affairs may be
concentrated; they are held up to us as the representatives of all legitimate
interests, as the organ of all reasonable opinions, the voice of all just com
plaints, a channel of perpetual communication between governors and their
subjects, a measure of justice in the laws, a means of rendering the laws
respectable and venerable in the eyes of the people ; in short, as a permanent
guarantee that a government, never consulting its own interests, should study
mly public utility and expediency. At a time when we are informed in such
fine terms what these assemblies ought to be, not what they are, it will not be
uninteresting to refer to the Councils; for we see at a glance that the Councils
must in a certain manner explain the nature and spirit, and point out the
motives and aim, of political assemblies.

I am aware of the fundamental differences existing between these two assem
blies ; men who receive their powers from popular election cannot, in fact, be
placed in the same rank as those who have been appointed by the Holy Grhost
to govern the Church of Grod ; neither can the monarch, who derives his right
fo the throne from the fundamental laws of the nation, be confounded with that
rock upon which the Church of Christ is built. I grant also that, whether
with regard to the subjects discussed in the Councils, or with regard to the
persons engaged in these discussions, and to the extension of the Church over
the whole earth, theie must necessarily be a great dissimilarity between the
Councils and political assemblies, with respect to the epoch of their being
assembled, and the mode of A,heir organization and of their proceedings. But
we are not here about to imagine an ingenious parallel, and to seek with sub-
tilty lesemblances which do not exist; my only aim is to show the influence
which t! o lessons of prudence and maturity given for so long a lime by fho

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY 361

church must have exercised upon political laws and customs. If we consult
the annals of the nations of antiquity, or those of modern times, we shall dis
cover that all deliberative assemblies are composed of persons who have a right
to sit in them by a regulation stated in the laws. But to admit into them a
man of knowledge, simply because he is so, is to pay a noble tribute to merit —
to proclaim in the most solemn manner, that the care of ruling the world
belongs properly to intelligence. This the Church alone has done.

I make this observation to prove that society is indebted mainly to the
Church for the progress it has made in this respect. I will adduce on this
point a fact that has not perhaps been sufficiently attended to, 'but which clearly
shows that the Catholic Church was the first to seek out men of talent wherever
they were to be found, and unhesitatingly to allow them influence in public
affairs. I will not speak of that spirit which forms one of her distinctive char
acteristics among all other societies, which has ever led her to seek merit, and
nothing but merit, and to raise it to the highest functions — a spirit which no
one can deny her, and which has eminently contributed to her splendor and
preponderance. But it is very remarkable that the influence of this spirit has
been felt where, at first sight, it might have been least expected. In fact, it
is well known that, according to the doctrines of the Church, no private indi
vidual has any right to interfere in the decisions and deliberations of the Coun-
cHs ; hence, however learned a theologian or jurist may be, his knowledge gives
him no right whatever to take part in those august assemblies. Nevertheless,
it is well known that the Church has ever taken care to call to them men who,
whatever might be their titles, excelled most by their talents or their learning.
Who does not read with pleasure the list of learned men who, although not
Bishops, were present at the Council of Trent ?

In modern society, do not talent, wisdom, and genius carry the highest head,
command the greatest consideration and respect, and present the best claims
to the direction of public affairs, and to the exercise of a preponderating
influence ? These should know that nowhere have their claims been respected
or their dignity acknowledged so well as in the Church. What society, in
fact, has ever sought, as the Church has, to elevate them, to consult them in
the most important affairs, and to afford them an opportunity of shining in
grand assemblies ? In the Church, birth and riches are of no importance. If
you are a man of high merit, untarnished by misconduct, and at the same time
conspicuous by your abilities and your knowledge, that is enough — she will look
upon you as a great man, will always show you extreme consideration, treat
you with respect, and listen to you with deference. And since your brow,
though sprung from obscurity, is radiant with fame, it will be held worthy to
bear the mitre, the Cardinal's hat, or the tiara. To speak in the language of
the day, I may remark, that the aristocracy of knowledge owes much of its
importance to the ideas and discipline of the Church. (36)

CHAPTER LXII.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF MONARCHY IN EUROPE.

A SINGLE glance at the state of Europe in the fifteenth century enables us
to discover that such a state of things could not long exist, and that of the three
elements claiming preference, the monarchical must necessarily prevail. And
it could not be otherwise; for we have always seen that societies, after a long
period of trouble and agitation, place themselves at last under the protection
of that power which offers them the greatest security and well-being. Behold-
iug, on the one band, I hose great feudatories, so proud, so exacting, so turbulent,
4* 2 F

862 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLJCIT i .

enemies to each other, and rivals of the king as well as of the people; on the
other hand, the commons, whose existence appears under so many different
forms — whose rights, privileges, fueros and liberties present so various and
complex an aspect — whose ideas have no constant and well defined direction ; —
we conclude at once, that neither were possessed of sufficient force to struggle
against the royal power, already acting by a fixed plan and a determinate sys
tem, seizing every opportunity which might serve to forward its views. Who
is not aware of the sagacity displayed by Ferdinand the Catholic in developing
and implanting his prominent idea — that of centralizing power, giving it vigor,
and rendering its action forcible and universal ; that is, the idea of founding a
true monarchy ? And why not acknowledge in the immortal Ximenes a worthy
and more eminent continuator of this policy ? It would be erroneous to con
sider this as an evil to nations. All publicists agree that it was necessary to
give strength and stability to power, and prevent its action from becoming weak
or intermittent ; but the only representative of real power at that time was the
throne. Hence, to fortify and aggrandize royal power was of real necessity .
ill plans and efforts of man would have failed to place an obstacle in its way
But it remains, nevertheless, to be seen, whether this aggrandizement of roya
power outstepped its due bounds ; and this is the place for contrasting Pro
testantism with Catholicity, that we may ascertain which of them was culpable
if either, and to what extent. This is a very important and curious subject
but at the same time one of difficulty and delicacy. In fact, such a chang*
has taken place of late in the meaning of words, the aversion which parties
profess for each other is so profound, each one repels with such impetuosity
every thing which bears the most remote resemblance to what is esteemed by
his adversaries, that it is an arduous undertaking to render the state of the
question and the meaning of words comprehensible. I ask one thing of my
readers of all opinions ; that is, that they will suspend their judgment until
they have read the whole of what I have to adduce on this point. If they con
sent to this, and do not quarrel with the first word that shocks them — in a
word, if they have sufficient patience to hear before they judge, I am confident
that, if we do not altogether agree, which is -impossible amid such a variety uf
opinions, they will at least grant that I have taken an apparently reasonable
view of the subject, and that my conjectures are not altogether unfounded.
I shall commence, in the first place, by completely laying aside the question
whether it was advantageous or not to society that, in the greatest part of Eu
ropean monarchies, royal power should have any other limits than those natu
rally imposed upon it by the state of ideas and customs. This question ,-:ome
will answer in the affirmative, others in the negative; and I need not ohderve
to what party they respectively belong. To many people the word liberty is a
scandal, just as the term absolute power is with others synonymous with des
potism. But what is that liberty which the former repel with so much force ?
what meaning is attached to this word in their dictionaries ? They have wit
nessed the French Revolution, with its iniquities and frightful crimes, and
they have heard it continually crying out for liberty : they have witnessed
the Spanish Revolution, with its vociferations of death, and its sanguinary
excesses — its injustice, its disdain for every thing that Spaniards had been
accustomed to esteem the most valuable and sacred ; and yet they have hoard
the cries of this Revolution also for liberty. What was to be expected ? Why,
what we now witness They confounded the name of liberty with all sorts of
impieties and crimes ; and, in consequence, they hated it, they repelled it, they
fought against it sword in hand. In vain were they informed that the cortes
was an ancient institution ; they replied, that the ancient cortes was not like
that of their times. In vain were they reminded that our laws ordained the
nation's right of interference by its vote on the levying of taxes. They

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 863

replied : " We are well aware of it ; but the nation is not now represented
by those who interfere in its affairs ; they only avail tLemsehes of this pre
tended title to enslave both the king and the people." They were told thai
the representatives of the different classes had formerly the right of interven
tion in the important affairs of the state. " What class do you represent/'
they replied ; "you who degrade the monarch, insult and persecute the nobility,
abuse and plunder the clergy, despising the people, and making their customs
and their religious belief a subject for your sneers ? What, then, do you
represent ? Is it the Spanish nation, when you trample on her religion and
laws, when you excite social dissolution on all sides, and make blood flow in
torrents ? How can you call yourselves the restorers of our fundamental laws,
when we find nothing either in you or in your acts which marks the true
Spaniard; when all your theories, plans, and projects are only miserable
copies of foreign books but too well known, while you have forgotten your own
language ?"

I pray the reader will cast his eyes over the files of the journals, the bul
letins of the cortes, and other documents that remain of the two epochs of 1812
and 1820; let him also call to mind the events we have recently witnessed;
let him afterwards peruse the records and memorials of anterior epochs, — our
codes, our books, every thing, in fine, capable of throwing light upon the cha
racter, the ideas, and the customs of the Spanish people ; then let him lay hia
hand upon his heart, and, whatever be his political opinions, let him tell us,
upon his honor, if he finds the least resemblance between the past and the
present ; if he does not, at the very first glance, perceive a striking and violent
contrast between the two epochs — a chasm, in fact, to fill up which, I say it
with grief, would require heaps of fresh ruins, ashes, dead bodies, and torrents
of blood. Were we to place the question beyond the influence of the empoi
soned atmosphere of human passions and of bitter recollections, we might, it is
true, very well examine the expediency of allowing the royal authority to attain
to a growth that set it free from every kind of check or restraint, even in
affairs of the most essential importance and in the voting of the government
supplies. The question would then have merely a historico-political aspect,
could not be confounded with actual practice, and, consequently, would not
affect either the interests or the opinions of our time. However that might
be, I will not stop to consider or to notice what has been thought and said upoc
the subject, but will take up the hypothesis, that the disappearance from the
body politic, at that time, of every element save the monarchical, was a mis
fortune to the people, and an obstacle to the progress of true civilization. And
whose was the fault ? let me ask.

It is remarkable that the greatest increase of royal power in Europe dates
precisely from the commencement of Protestantism. In England, from the
time of Henry VIII., not only did monarchy prevail, but a despotism so cruel
that no vain appearances of impotent forms have availed to disguise its excesses.
In France, afte^ the Huguenot war, royal power became more absolute than
ever; in Sweden, Gustavus ascended the throne, and from that time kings
began to exercise an almost unlimited power; in Denmark, monarchy con
tinued, and became stronger ; in Germany, the kingdom of Prussia was formed
and absolute forms generally prevailed ; in Austria, the empire of Charles V
arose in all its power and splendor ; in Italy, the small republics were fast
lisappearing, and the people, under some title or another, became subject to
princes; in Spain, in fine, the ancient cortes of Casrile, Aragon, Valencia, and
Catalonia fell into disuse : that is to say, instead of seeing, by the accession
of Protestantism; rie people take one step towards representative forms, we
find, on tho contr?. y, that they rapidly advanced towards absolute government.
This is a certain, incontestable fact. Sufficient attention has not perhaps beou

£64 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY;

paid to so singular a coincidence ; but it is not the less real, and is certainlj
of a nature to suggest numerous and interesting reflections. Was this coin
cidence purely accidental ? Was there any hidden connection between Pro
testantism and the development and definitive establishment of absolutism ? 1
think there was; and I will even add, that, had Catholicism retained an
exclusive sway in Europe, the power of the throne would have been gradually
diminished — that representative forms would probably not have disappeared
altogether — that the people Avould have continued to take part in national
affairs — that we should have been much farther advanced in civilization, much
better fitted for the enjoyment of true liberty — and that this liberty would not
be associated in our minds with scenes of horror. Yes, the fatal Reformation
has given a wrong direction to European society, injured civilization, created
necessities that previously had no existence, and opened chasms which it can
not close. It destroyed many elements of good, and consequently produced a
radical change in the conditions of the political problem. This I think I can
demonstrate.

CHAPTER LXIII.

TWO KINDS OF DEMOCRACY.

THERE is in the history of Europe one leading fact contained in all its pages,
and still visible in our days, viz. the parallel march of two democracies, which,
although sometimes apparently alike, are, in reality, very different in their
nature, origin, and aim. The one is based upon the knowledge and dignity
of man, and on the right which he possesses of enjoying a certain amount of
liberty conformable to reason and justice. With ideas more or less clear, more
or less uniform, upon the real origin of society and of power, it entertains at
least very clear, precise, and fixed ones upon the real object and aim of both.
Whether the right of commanding proceeds directly and immediately from
G-od, or whether we suppose it communicated previously to society, and trans
mitted afterwards to those who govern, it always grants that power is for the
common weal, and that, if it does not direct its actions to this end, it falls into
tyranny. To privileges, honors, and distinctions of every kind, it applies its
favorite touchstone — the public good; whatever is opposed to this, is rejected
as noxious ; whatever does not tend to promote it, is repudiated as superfluous.
Convinced that knowledge and virtue are the only things of real worth, and
deserving of consideration in the distribution of the social functions, this demo
cracy requires them to be sought without ceasing, that they may be elevated to
the summit of power and of glory; it goes to seek them in the midst of the
deepest obscurity. A nobleman, proud of his titles and his heraldry, and
boasting of the glorious deeds of his ancestors, without being able to imitate
them, is, in its estimation, an object of ridicule; it will allow such a man to
enjoy his riches, that the sacred right of property may not be violated; but it
will remove from his grasp, by all lawful means, the influence he might derive
from the nobility of his blood. In fine, if it takes nobility, birth or riches into
consideration, it is not for any intrinsic worth of these advantages, but because
they are signs which lead us to expect a more accomplished education, more
knowledge and probity.

Full of generous ideas, this democracy, placing the dignity of man in tiie
highest degree, reminding man of his rights, and also of his duties, is indignant
at the very name of tyranny. It hates tyranny, condemns it, repels it, and is
perpetually employed in discovering the best means for preventing it. Wise
aud calm, as th^ inseparable companion of reason and good sense must ever be.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 265

it agrees very well with monarchy ; but we may rest assured that its desires
have generally been, that the laws of the country should, in one way or another,
place a restraint upon the excesses of kings. Aware that the rock against
which they ran the risk of being wrecked, -was the excess of contributions
levied upon the people, it.s favorite idea, which it has never abandoned, even
when it was impracticable, has been to restrain the unlimited faculties of power
with respect to contributions. Another of its predominating ideas has been to
prevent the will of man from prevailing in the formation or application of the
laws. It has ever sought to guarantee and secure in some way, that the will
should not usurp the place of reason. Such has been the force of this uni
versal desire, that it has been indelibly stamped upon European manners, and
the most absolute monarchs have been compelled to gratify it. *• Hence one
thing very worthy of remark is, that the throne has ever been surrounded by
respectable counsellors, whose existence was insured either by the laws or by
the national customs. These counsellors certainly could not preserve, in all
circumstances, the independence necessary for the accomplishment of their
object, but they did not fail to be of great service ; for their mere existence
was an eloquent protest against unjust and arbitrary regulations ; it was a noble
personification of reason and justice, pointing out the sacred limits ever to be
regarded as inviolable by the most powerful monarch. This is also the reason
why sovereigns in Europe never exercise themselves the faculty of pronouncing
judgment, differing in this respect from the sultans. The laws and customs of
Europe energetically repulse this faculty, as fatal to the people as it is to the
monarch ; and the mere recital of such an attempt would excite public indigna
tion against its author.

The meaning of all this is, that this principle, so much extolled, that it is
not the monarch but the law that commands, has been received in Europe for
many centuries ; it was in full force in all the European nations long before
modern publicists emphatically enunciated it. It will be said, perhaps, that if
this was the case in theory, it was not so in practice. I do not deny that there
were reprehensible exceptions, but the principle was generally respected. As
a case in point, let us take the most absolute reign of modern times, with the
most unlimited royal power in all its splendor, in its apogee, — the reign in
which the king could exclaim with too much pride, but yet with truth, " I am
the state" — that of Louis the Fourteenth. It lasted more than half a century,
with an astonishing variety and complication of events. How many deaths,
confiscations, and banishments took place in it, executed by the royal command,
without any judicial ordeal ! Perhaps some arbitrary acts of this time may be
cited ; but let them be compared with what was passing under equivalent
circumstances amongst the nations out of Europe : let any one recall to mind
what took place at the time of the Roman empire, and the excesses of absolute
royalty wherever Christianity did not exist, and he will see that the excesses
committed in European monarchies are scarcely worthy of being mentioned.
This is a proof ^that the distinction made between monarchical governments,
whether absolute or despotic, is not arbitrary and fictitious. Any one acquainted
with the legislation and history of Europe must- be well aware that this dis
tinction is correct, and he will be forced to smile at those boisterous declamations
in which malice or ignorance endeavors to confound the two systems of go
vernment.

This limit imposed upon power, this circle of reason and justice which we
always find traced around it, derives its origin principally from the idea:* dis
seminated by Christianity, whether it have its guarantee in ideas and manners
or in political forms. It is Christianity that has proclaimed, " Reason and
justice, knowledge and virtue, are every thing; the mere will of man, his
birth, his titles, are of no intrinsic value/' These words have penetrated

2r i

868 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

every where, from the palace of kings to the poor man's cottage ; and, from
the moment that the mind of an entire people became imbued with such ideas,
Asiatic despotism became impracticable. In fact, in the absence of ever^
political form limiting the power* of the monarch, a voice resounds in his ears
on all sides, exclaiming, " We are not thy slaves, we are thy subjects ; thou
art a king, but thou art a man, and a man who, like ourselves, must appear
one day before the Supreme Judge ; thou hast the power of making laws, but
merely for our interests ; thou canst exact tributes from us, but only such aa
are necessary for the common weal ; thou canst not judge us according to thy
caprice, but only conformably to the laws ; thou canst not seize our property
without rendering thyself more culpable than the common robber, nor make
an attempt on our lives, of thy own will, without becoming an assassin ; the
power thou hast received is not for thy comfort or pleasure, nor for the gratifi
cation of thy passions, but solely for our happiness ; thou art a« person ex
clusively devoted to the public weal; if thou forgettest this, thou art a
tyrant."

Unfortunately, however, together with this spirit of lawful independence, of
rational liberty, — together with this just, noble, and generous democracy, there
has ever been another accompanying it, and forming with it the most lively
contrast. The latter has been extremely injurious to the former, by prevent
ing it from attaining the object of its just pretensions ; erroneous in its princi
ples and perverse in its intentions, violent and unjust in its mode of acting, its
traces have been everywhere marked by a stream of blood. Instead of obtain
ing true liberty for the people, it has merely served to deprive them of that
which they already possessed ; or if it actually found them groaning under the
yoke of slavery, it has only served to rivet their chains. Allying itself on all
occasions with the basest passions, it has attracted to its standard all that was
most vile and abject in society, and gathered together the most turbulent and
ill-disposed men. By cheating its miserable followers with delusive promises,
and exciting them with the prospect of plunder and pillage, it has been a per
petual source of commotions, scandals, and bitter animosities, that have at
length produced their natural results — persecutions, proscriptions, and execu
tions. Its fundamental dogma was the rejection of all authority of every
description, to overturn which was its constant aim ; the reward it expected for
its labors was to seat itself upon a throne established amidst universal ruin, to
glut itself with the blood of thousands of victims, and to revel in the grossest
orgies during the distribution of its blood-stained spoil. In all times, in all
countries, riots, popular insurrections, and revolutions have taken place; but,
for the last seven centuries, Europe presents these scenes in so singular a
character, that it forms a most fitting subject for the reflection of philosophers.
In fact, these tendencies towards social dissolution — tendencies, the origin of
which it is not difficult to discover in the very heart of man — have not only
existed in the bosom of Europe, but have been formed into a theory ; as ideas,
they have been defended with all the obstinacy and infatuation of a sectarian
spirit ; and, wherever an opportunity occurred, reduced to practice with un
yielding pertinacity and unbridled fury. The system was made up of folly and
fanaticism, and carried out with obstinacy, a spirit of proselytism, and monstrous
icrimes. In every page of its history this truth is attested in characters of
blood. Happy our nation, had she not tried the experiment !

Europe may be compared to those men of great capacity and of active and
intrepid characters, who are either the very best or the very worst of men.
Scarcely can a siugle fact of any weight remain isolated in Europe : there is
not a truth -.-hat is not useful, nor an -error that is not fatal. Ideas have a
tendency to V 'come realized, and facts, in their turn, incessantly call in the aid
t)f ideas. li vi- tues exist, they are explained, and their foundation is sought

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 367

for in elevated theories. If crimes are met with, their vindication is attempted
on the authority of perverse theories. Nations do not rest satisfied with the
practice either of good or evil — they strive to propagate it, and are restless till
they have induced their neighbors to imitate them. Nay, there is something
beyond a mere spirit of proselytism limited to a few countries — ideas, in our
times, aim at nothing short of universal empire. The spirit of propa-
gandisin does not date from the French Revolution, nor even from the sixteenth
century; from the very dawn of civilization, from the times when the minds of
men began to evince symptoms of activity, this phenomenon is apparent, and
in a very striking manner. In the agitated Europe of the twelfth and thir
teenth centuries, we behold the Europe of the nineteenth century, just as the
imperfectly denned lineaments of the germ contain forms of the future being.

A great part of the sects which assailed the Church, dating from the tenth
century, were decidedly revolutionary ; they either proceeded from the fatal
democracy which I have just mentioned, or derived their support from it.
Unfortunately this democracy, restless, unjust and turbulent, having compro
mised the tranquillity of Europe in the centuries anterior to the sixteenth, found
in Protestantism its most fervent propagators. Among the numerous sects
into which the pretended reform was immediately divided, some opened the
way for it, and otkers adopted it as their standard. And what must have been
the result in the political organization of Europe ? 1 will say it candidly : the
disappearance of those political institutions which enabled the different classes
of the state to tako part in its affairs, was inevitable. Now, as it was verj
difficult for the European people, considering their character, ideas and customs,
to submit for ever to their new condition, as their predominant inclination
must have urged them to place bounds upon the extension of power, it was
natural that revolutions should ensue ; it was natural that future generations
should have to witness great catastrophes, such as the English Revolution of
the seventeenth century and the French Revolution of the eighteenth. There
was a time when it might have been difficult to comprehend these truths ; that
time is past. The revolutions in which for some centuries the different nations
of Europe have been successively involved, have brought within the reach of
the least intelligent that social law so frequently realized, viz. that anarchy
leads to despotism, and that despotism begets anarchy. Never, at any time,
in any nation (history and experience prove the fact), have anti-social ideas
been inculcated, the minds of the people been imbued with the spirit of insub
ordination and rebellion, without almost immediately provoking the application
of the only remedy at the command of nations in such conflicts, the establish
ment of a very strong government, which justly or unjustly, legally or not,
lifts up its iron arm over every one, and makes all heads bend under its yoke.
To clamor and tumult succeeds the most profound silence ; the people then
easily become resigned to their new condition, for reflection and instinct teach
them that although it is well to possess a certain amount of liberty, the first
want of society is self-preservation.

What was the case in Germany, after the introduction of Protestantism by
a succession of religious revolutions ? Maxims destructive of all society were
propagated, factions formed, insurrections took place; upon the field of battle
and upon the scaffolds blood flowed in torrents ; but no sooner did the instinct
of social preservation begin to operate, than, instead of popular urms- being
3stablished and taking root, every thing tended towards the opposite extreme.
And was not this the country in which the people had been flattered by the prospect
of unrestrained liberty, of a re-partition and even a community of property ; in
tine, by the promise of the most absolute equality in every thing. Yet, in this
same country, the most striking inequality prevailed, and the feudal aristocracy
preserved its full force. In other countries, in which no such hopes of liberty

H68 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

and equality had been held out, we can scarcely discover the limits whicl
separated the nobility from the people. In Germany, the nobility still retained
^heir wealth and their preponderance, were still surrounded by titles, privileges,
and distinctions of every description. In that very country, in which there wer«
such outcries against the power of kings, in which the name of king was
declared synonymous with tyrant, the most absolute monarchy was established ;
and the apostate of the Teutonic order founded that kingdom of Prussia, frcm
which representative forms are still excluded.* In Denmark, Protestantism *.w
established, and with it absolute power immediately took deep root ; in Swedea
we find, at the very same time, the power of Gustavus established.

What was the case in England ? Representative forms were not introduced
into that country by Protestantism ; they existed centuries before, as well aa
in other nations of Europe. But the monarch who founded the Anglican
Church was distinguished for his despotism, and the Parliament, which ought
to have restrained him, was most shamefully degraded. What idea can we
form of the liberty of a country whose legislators and representatives debased
themselves so far as to declare, that any one obtaining a knowledge of the
Illicit amours of the Queen is bound, under pain of high treason, to bring an
accusation against her ? What can we think of the liberty of a country, in
which the very men who ought to defend that liberty, cringe with so much
baseness to the unruly passions of the monarch, that they are not ashamed, in
order to flatter the jealousy of the sovereign, to establish that any young
female who should marry a king of England, should, under a pain of high
treason, be compelled before her marriage to reveal any stain there might be
on her virtue ? Such ignominious enactments are certainly a stronger proof of
abject servility than the declaration of that same Parliament, establishing that
the mere will of the monarch should have the force of law. Representative
forms preserved in tkat country at a time when they had disappeared from
almost every other nation of Europe, were not, however, a guarantee against
tyranny ; for the English cannot assuredly boast of the liberty they enjoyed
under the reigns of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth. Perhaps in no country in
Europe was less liberty enjoyed, in no country were the people more oppressed
under popular forms, in no country did despotism prevail to a greater extent.
If there be anything which can convince us of these truths, in case the facts
already cited should be found insufficient, it is undoubtedly the efforts made
by the English to acquire liberty. And if the efforts made to shake off the
yoke of oppression are to be regarded as a sure sign of its galling effects, we
are justified in thinking that the oppression under which England was groaning
must have been very severe, since that country has passed through so long and
terrible a revolution, in which so many tears and so much blood has been shed

When we consider what has taken place in France, we remark that religious
wars have always given an ascendency to royal power. After such long agita
tions, so many troubles and civil wars, we see the reign of Louis XIV., and
we hear that proud monarch exclaim, " / am the state" We have here the
most complete personification of the absolute power which always follows
anarchy. Have the European nations had to complain of the unlimited power
exercised by monarchs ? have they had to regret that all the representative
forms which could ensure their liberties perished under the ascendency of the
throne ? Let them blame Protestantism for it, which spreading the germs of
anarchy all over Europe, created an imperious, urgent, and inevitable necessity
for centralizing rule, for fortifying royal power : it was necessary to stop up
every source from which dissolvent principles might flow, and to keep within
narrow bounds all the elements which, by contact and vicinity, were i^ady to
ignite and produce a fatal conflagration.

* When this was written.— Tr.

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 369

flvery reflecting man will agree with me on this point. Considering the
aggrandizement of absolute power, they will discover in it nothing but the
realization , of a fact already long ago everywhere observed. Assuredly, the
monarchs of Europe cannot be compared, either by the fact of their origin or
the character of their measures, to those despots who, under different titles,
have usurped the command of society at the critical moment when it was near
its dissolution; but it may be said with reason, that the unlimited extent of
their power has been caused by a great social necessity, viz. that of one sole
and forcible authority, without which the preservation of public order was
impossible. We cannot without dismay take a view of Europe after the
appearance of Protestantism. What frightful dissolution ! What erroneous
ideas ! What relaxation of morals ! What a multitude of sects ! What ani
mosity in men's minds ! What rage, what ferocity ! Violent disputes, inter
minable debates, accusations, recriminations without end ; troubles, rebellion,
intestine and foreign wars, sanguinary battles, and atrocious punishments.
Such is the picture that Europe presents ; such are the effects of this apple of
discord thrown among men who are brethren. And what was sure to be the
result of this confusion, of this retrograde movement, by which society seemed
returning to violent means, to the tyranny of might over right ? The resul*
was sure to be what it has in fact been : the instinct of preservation, stronger
than the passions and the frenzy of man, was sure to prevail; it suggested to
Europe the only means of self-preservation; royal power, already in th«
ascendant, and verging towards its highest point, was sure to end by attaining
it in reality; there to become isolated and completely separated from the people,
and to impose silence on popular passions. What ought to have been effected
by a wise direction of ideas, was accomplished by the force of a very powerful
institution ; the vigor of the sceptre had to neutralize the impulse given to
society towards its ruin. If we consider attentively, we shall find that such is
the meaning of the event of 1680 in S-weden, when that country was subjected
to the fierce will of Charles XI. ; such the meaning of the event of 1669 in
Denmark, when that nation, wearied v\th anarchy, supplicated King Frederick
III. to declare the monarchy hereditary and absolute, which he in fact did ;
such, in fine, is the meaning of what took place in Holland in 1747, and of
the creation of an hereditary stadtholder. If we require more convincing
examples, we have the despotism of Cromwell in England after such terrible
revolutions, and that of Napoleon in France after the republic. (37)

CHAPTER LXIV.

STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE THREE SOCIAL ELEMENTS.

WHEN once these three elements of government, monarchy, aristocracy, and
iemocracy, began each to contend for the ascendency, the most certain means
of securing the victory to monarchy, to the exclusion of the other two elements,
was to drive one of these latter into acts of turbulence and outrage ; for it thus
became absolutely necessary to establish one sole, powerful, unfettered centre
of action, that would be able to awe the turbulent and to insure public order.
Now, just at this time, the position of the popular element was full of hope,
but also beset wilh dangers; and hence, to preserve the influence it had already
acquired, and to increase its ascendency and power, the greatest moderation
and circumspection were requisite. Monarchy had already acquired great
power, and, having obtained it in part by espousing the cause of the people
against the lords, it came to be regarded as the natural protector of popular
interests. It certainly had sotne claims to this title, but no less certatnlr did
47

870 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

it find in this circumstance a most favorable opportunity for extending its power
to an unlimited degree, at the expense of the rights and liberties of the people.
There existed a germ of division between the aristocracy and the commons,
which afforded the monarchs an opportunity of curtailing the rights and powers
of the lords, convinced, moreover, as they were, that any measure tending to
such an object would be well received by the multitude. But, on the other
hand, the monarch might rest assured that the lords would hail witlr delight
any act tending to humble the people, who already had raised theii heads so
high when the feudal aristocracy was to be resisted ; and, in this case, if tho
people committed any excesses, if they adopted maxims and doctrines subver
sive of public order, no one could prevent the monarch from putting a stop to
their proceedings by all possible means. The lords, who were powerful enough
to repress such disorders themselves, would very naturally be glad to leave
such a work to the monarch, fearing lest the people, in their exasperation
against them, might deprive them of their prerogatives, their honors, their
property, and even of their lives ; or from the secret satisfaction they would
naturally feel at seeing that rival power brought down which had recently
humbled themselves, and whose rivalry had been maintained through so many
and such ferocious struggles. In such an undertaking, the lords would natu
rally bring the whole weight of their influence to the support of the monarch,
thus taking advantage of the false direction given to the popular movement to
revenge themselves upon the people, whilst veiling their vengeance under the
pretext of public utility. The people, it fs true, possessed various means of
defence ; but when isolated and opposed to the throne, they found these means
too weak to afford them any hope of victory. Learning, indeed, was no longer
the exclusive patrimony of any privileged class, but knowledge had not had
time to become diffused so far as to form a public opinion strong enough to
exercise any direct influence upon the affairs of government. The art of print
ing was already producing its results, but was not yet sufficiently developed to
produce that rapid and extensive circulation of ideas which has subsequently
been attained. Notwithstanding the efforts everywhere made aj; that time to
promote the diffusion of knowledge, we need only understand correctly the
nature and character of tke knowledge of the period, to be convinced that
neither in substance nor in form was it calculated to become, to any general
extent, the property of the popular classes. Thanks to the progress of com
merce and the arts, there arose, it is true, a new description of wealth, destined
of necessity to become the patrimony of the people. But commerce and the
arts were then in their infancy, and did not possess either the extent or the
influence which, at a later period, connected them intimately with every branch
of society. Except in some few countries of very little importance, the position
of the merchant and the artizan could not secure them any great amount of
influence of itself.

Considering the course of events, and the elevation which royal power had
acquired on the ruins of. feudalism, the only means for restricting monarchical
power, until the democratic element should have acquired sufficient force to be
respected was the union of the aristocracy with the people. But such a coa
lition was not easily to be obtained, since between the aristocracy and the
people there existed so much animosity and rivalry — a rivalry which, to a cer
tain extent, was inevitable, owing to the opposition of their respective jnterests.
We must bear in mind, however, that the nobility were not the only aristocracy;
there was another much more powerful and influential than they — the clergy.
This latter class was at that time possessed of all the ascendency and influence
which both moral and material means can confer ;Jn fact, besides the religious
character, which insured the respect and veneration of the people, they were
possessed, at the same time, of abundant riches; which easily secured to tbenr

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 871

on the one hand, gratitude and influence ; and, on the other, made them feared
by the great, and respected bj monarchs. Now, here is one cf the leading
mistakes of Protestantism : to crush the power of the clergy at such a time, was
to accelerate the complete victory of absolute monarchy, to leave the people
defenceless, the monarch unrestrained, aristocracy without a bond of union,
without a vital principle ; it was to prevent the three elements — monarchy,
aristocracy, and democracy — from uniting to form a limited government,
towards which almost all the European nations appealed to be inclining. We
have already seen that it was not at that time expedient to isolate the people
for their political existence was still feeble and precarious ; and it is no less
evident that the nobility, as a means of government, ought not to have been
left to themselves. This class, possessing no other vital principle than that
derived from their titles and privileges, were incapable of resisting the attacks
continually aimed at them by the royal power. In spite of themselves, the
nobility were under the necessity of yielding to the monarch's will, of abandon
ing their inaccessible castles, to resort to the sumptuous palaces of kings, and
play the part of courtiers.

Protestantism crushed the power of the clergy, not only in the countries in
which it succeeded in implanting its errors, but also in others. In fact, where
it could not fully introduce itself, its ideas, when not in open opposition to the
Catholic faith, exercised a certain degree of influence. From that time the
power of the clergy lost ks principal support in the political influence of the
Popes, for whilst kings assumed a tone of greater boldness against the preten
sions of the Holy See, the Popes, on their side, that they might give no
pretext, no occasion for the declamations of Protestants, were obliged to act
with great circumspection in every thing relating to temporal affairs. All this
has been regarded as the progress of European civilization, — as one step
towards liberty ; however, the rapid sketch which I have just given of the
political condition of that period, clearly proves that, instead of taking the
surest way to the development of representative forms, the road to absolute
monarchy was chosen. Protestantism, interested in crushing by all possible
means the power of the Popes, exalted that of kings even in spiritual matters.
By thus concentrating in their hands the spiritual and temporal powers, it left
the throne without any sort of counterpoise. By destroying the hope of
obtaining liberty by peaceable means, it led the people to have recourse to
force, and opened the crater of those revolutions which have cost modern
Europe so many tears.

In order that the forms of political liberty should take root and attain to
perfection, they were not to be forced prematurely from the atmosphere which
gave them birth ; for in this atmosphere existed together the monarchical, aris-
tocratical, and popular elements, all strengthened and directed by the Catholic
religion ; under the influence of this same religion, these elements were being
gradually combined, politics were not to be separated from religion. Instead
of regarding the clergy as a fatal element, it was important to look upon them
as a mediator among all classes and powers, ready to calm the ardor of strife,
to place bounds against excess, to prevent the exclusive preponderance of the
monarch, the nobility, or the people. Whenever powers and interests of dif
ferent natures are to be combined, a mediator is essential, or some sort of
intervention to prevent violent shocks ; if this mediator does not exist in the
very nature of the circumstances, recourse must be had to the law .for the cre
ation of one. From this it is evident what an evil Protestantism inflicted upon
Europe ; since its first act was completely to isolate the temporal power, to
place it in rivalship and hostility to the spiritual, and to leave no media? ;r
between the monarch and the people. The lay aristocracy at once lost thei •
political influence; for they had now lost their force and bond of unior, whirl*

372 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

they derived from their connection with the ecclesiastical aristocracy.

once the nobles were reduced to mere courtiers, the power of the throne was

entirely without a counterpoise.

I have said it, and I repeat it, that the strengthening of the royal power,
even at the expense of the rights and liberties of the lords and of the commons'
tended powerfully to the maintenance of public order, and consequently to the
progress of civilization ; but, at the same time, the extreme preponderance
obtained by this power is much to be lamented ; and it may be well to reflect,
that one of the principal causes of this preponderance was the removal of the
clergy from the sphere of politics. At the commencement of the sixteenth
century, the^ question no longer was, whether those numerous castles should
be left standing, from the heights of which proud barons gave the law to their
vassals, and held themselves justified in despising the ordinances of the mon
arch ; nor whether that long list of communal liberties should be preserved,
which had no connection with each other, which were opposed to the preten
sions of the great, and at the same time embarrassed the action of the sovereign,
by preventing the formation of a central government capable of insuring order,
of protecting legitimate interests, of giving, an impulse to the movement of
civilization, which had everywhere commenced with so much activity. This
was no longer the question ; on all sides the castles were being levelled, the
great lords were descending from their fortresses, and becoming more humane
towards the people ; they were giving up their exactions, and beginning to show
respect to the power of the monarch ; and the commons, obliged to submit to
an amalgamation of the multitude of petty states, to form extensive monarchies,
were forced to part with so much of their rights and liberties as was opposed
to the system of general centralization.

The question was, to discover whether there existed any means of limiting
power, and yet securing to the people the benefits of its centralization and
augmentation; whether it was possible, without embarrassing or weakening
the action of power, to secure to the people a reasonable amount of influence
over the progress of affairs, and, above all, the right they had already acquired
of watching over the public revenues. That is, at once to prevent the sangui
nary horrors of revolutions, and the abuses and disorders of court favorites.
The people alone were incapable of preserving this influence, unless they had
been furnished with a knowledge of the public affairs ; an indispensable resource
in such a case, but of which they were in general completely destitute. I do
not mean to deny the existence of a certain kind of knowledge amongst the
commons; but we must bear in mind that the term pullic affairs, had acquired
an extensive signification ; for it was not merely applied to a municipality or a
province ; centralization becoming everywhere more general and triumphant,
caused this term to be applied to whole kingdoms, not merely considered as
isolated, but in the whole of their relations with other nations. From that
time European civilization began to assume that character of generality, which
still distinguishes it : from that time, to understand aright the private affaira
of any one kingdom, it was necessary to look abroad over the whole of Europe,
sometimes over the whole world. Men capable of such elevated views could
not be very common in society; moreover, as the most exalted part of society
was attracted by the splendor of the throne of the monarch, a focus of intelli
gence was sure to be formed there, with exclusive pretensions to the govern
ment. Compare with this centre of action and intelligence, the people alone;
Btill weak and ignorant, and the result may be easily guessed. Weakness and
ignorance never prevailed over force and intelligence. But, -what remedy was
there for this difficulty ? The preservation of the Catholic religion all over
Europe, and consequently the influence of the clergy; for it is well known that
the clergy were still considered at this epoch as the centre of learning.

Tiiose who have extolled Protestantism for having we akened the influence of

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 878

the Catholic clergy, have not sufficiently reflected upon the nature of that
influence. It would have been difficult to discover at that epoch a class of
citizens connected with the three elements of power by common interests with
each, and yet not exclusively allied to any. Monarchy had nothing to fear
from the clergy. In fact, how can we imagine that the ministers of a religion
regarding power as an emanation from Heaven would declare themselves the
enemies of royal power, which was acknowledged to be at the head of all others?
Neither had the aristocracy any thing to apprehend on the part of the clergy,
so long as they did not outstep the bounds of reason. The titles, by virtue of
which they claimed, the possession of riches, their rights to a certain degree of
consideration and of precedence were not likely to be combated by a class
whose principles and interests were necessarily favorable to every thing within
the bounds of reason, of justice, and of the laws. The democracy, comprising
the generality of the people, found support and most generous protection in the
Church. How could the Church, which had labored so much to emancipate
them from the ancient slavery, and at a later period from feudal chains, declare
herself the enemy of a class which might be considered as her creature ? If the
people experienced an amelioration in their civil condition, it was owing to the
efforts of the clergy ; if they acquired political influence, it was owing to the
amelioration of their condition — another favor obtained through the influence
of the clergy; and if the clergy had any where a sure support, it was natural
to look for it in that popular class which, continually in contact with them,
received from them their inspirations and instructions.

Besides, the Church selected her members indiscriminately from all classes.
To elevate a man to the sacred ministry she required neither titles of nobility
nor riches, and this alone was sufficient to insure intimate relations between the
clergy and the people, and to prevent the latter from regarding them with
aversion and estrangement. Hence the clergy, united to all classes, were an
element perfectly adapted to prevent the exclusive preponderance of any of
these classes, to maintain all social elements in a certain gentle and productive
fermentation, which in time would have produced and matured a natural com
bination. I do not mean to assert that there would not have arisen differences,
disputes, perhaps conflicts, inevitable occurrences so long as men shall be men ;
but who does not see that the terrible effusion of blood in the wars of Germany,
in the revolutions of England and France, would have been impossible ? It
will be said, perhaps, that the spirit of European civilization necessarily tended
to diminish the extreme inequality of classes; I grant it, and will even add,
that this tendency was conformable to the principles and maxims of the
Christian religion, continually reminding men of their equality before God, of
their common origin and destination, of the emptiness of honors and riches, and
proclaiming that virtue is the only thing solid upon earth, the only thing
capable of rendering us pleasing in the eyes of G-od. But to reform is not to
destroy ; to cure the disease, we must not kill the patient. It was deemed
better to overthrow at one blow what might have been corrected by legal means;
European civilization having been corrupted by the fatal innovations of the
sixteenth century, legitimate authority having been disregarded even in matters
within its exclusive sphere, its mild and beneficent action has been replaced by
tho disastrous expedients of violence. Three centuries of calamity have more
or less opened the eyes of nations, by teaching them how perilous it is, even
for the success of an enterprise, to confide it to the cruel hazard of the em
ployment of force ; but it is probable that if Protestantism, like an apple of
discord, had not been thrown into the middle of Europe, all these great social
and political questions would, at the present time, be much nearer being solved
in a safe, peaceable, and certain manner, if, indeed, they had not been already
solved long since. (38)

10

374

CHAPTER LXV.

POLITICAL DOCTRINES BEFORE THE APPEARANCE OF PROTESTANTISM.

IN matters appertaining to representative government, modern political science
boasts of its great progress : we hear it continually asserting that the school
in which the deputies of the Constituent Assembly imbibed their lessons was
totally ignorant of political constitutions. Now when we compare the doctrines
of the predominating school of the present day with those of the preceding
school, what difference do we discover between them ? On what points do they
differ ? Where is this boasted progress ?

The school of the eighteenth century said : " The king is the natural enemy
of the people ; his power must either be totally destroyed, or at least so far
restrained and limited, that he may only appear with his hands tied on the
summit of the social edifice, merely invested with the faculty of approving the
measures of the representatives of the people." And what says the modern
school, which boasts of its progress, of the advantage it has derived from ex
perience, and of having hit the exact point marked out by reason and good
sense ? " Monarchy," says this school, " is essential to the great European
nations ; the attempts at republicanism made in America, whatever may be
their results, require, as yet, the test of time ; besides, they were made under
circumstances very different from those in which we are placed, and conse
quently, are not to be imitated by us. The king should not be regarded as the
enemy of the people, but as their father; instead of presenting him to public
view with his hands tied, he should be represented surrounded with power,
grandeur, and even with majesty and pomp ; without which it is impossible
for the throne to fulfil the high functions with which it is invested. The king
should be inviolable — not nominally, but really and effectually, so that his
power cannot, under any pretext, be attacked. He should be placed in a sphere
beyond the whirlwind of passion and party, like a tutelar divinity, a stranger
to mean views and base passions ; he ought to be, as it were, the representative
of reason and justice." " Fools," exclaims this school to its adversaries, " can
you not see that it would be better to have no king at all than such a one as
you would have ? Your king would always be an enemy to the constitution, for
he would find this constitution always attacking, embarrassing, restricting, and
humiliating him."

We will now compare this progress with the doctrines predominating in
Europe long before the appearance of Protestantism. This comparison will
enable us to show clearly that every thing reasonable, just, and useful, con
tained in these doctrines, was already known and generally propagated in
Europe when society was under the exclusive influence of the Catholic Church.

A king is essential, says the modern school ; and, thanks to the influence of
the Catholic religion, all the great nations of Europe had a king : the king
mu&t not be regarded as the enemy , but as the father of the people ; and he was
already called the father of the people : the power of the king should be great;
that power was great : the king should be inviolable, his person sacred; his
person was sacred, and his prerogative insured to him by the Church from the
earliest ages, in an august and solemn ceremony, that of his coronation. " The
people are supreme," said the school of the last century ; " the law is the
expression of the general will, the representatives of the people are alone,
therefore, invested with legislative faculties ; the monarch cannot resist this
will. The laws are submitted to his sanction through mere formality ; if the
king refuses this sanction, the laws are to undergo another examination ; bat
jf the will of the representatives of the people still remains the same, it shall

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 876

be raised to the dignity of law ; and the monarch who, by the refusal of hia
sanction, shall show that he regards this general will as detrimental to the publif
good, sh&ll be compelled, at the expense of his dignity and independence, tc
give effect to it."

In reply to this, the modern school says : " The supremacy of the people is
either unmeaning, or has a dangerous sense ; the law should not be the expres.
sion of will, but of reason ; mere will does not constitute a law ; for this
purpose, reason, justice, and public expediency are required." These ideas
were general long before the sixteenth century, not only amongst ec1 seated
men, but even among the most simple and ignorant classes. A doctor oi the
thirteenth century admirably expressed it in his habitual laconic language :
" It is a rule dictated by reason, and having the common weal for its aim."
" Would you," continued the modern school, " have royal power a truth, you
must assign it the first place among legislative powers ; you must entrust it
with an absolute veto. In the ancient cortes, in the ancient states-general and
parliaments, the king did occupy this place among the legislative powers;
nothing was done without his consent ; he possessed an absolute veto."

"Away with classes!" exclaims the Constituent Assembly; "away with
distinctions ! The king face to face with the people, directly and immediately;
the rest is an attempt against imprescriptible rights." " You are rash," replies
bhe modern school; "if there are no distinctions, they must be created. If
there are not in society classes forming in themselves a second legislative body
a mediator between the king and the people, there must be artificial ones ;
through the medium of the law must be created what does not exist in society;
if reality is wanting, recourse must be had to fiction." Now these classes ex
isted in ancient society, they took part in public affairs, they were organized
as active instruments, they formed the first legislative bodies. I ask now,
whether this parallel does not show, as clear as the light of day, that what ia
now termed progress in matters of government, is, in fact, a true return towards
what was every where taught and practised under the influence of the Catholio
religion before the appearance of Protestantism ? In addressing myself to men
endowed with the least intelligence upon social and political questions, I may
assuredly dispense with the differences which must necessarily result from the
two epochs. I grant that the course of events would of itself have caused
important modifications ; political institutions were to be accommodated to the
fresh wants to be satisfied. But I maintain, at the same time, that, so far as
circumstances permitted, European civilization was advancing on the right
road to a better state, containing within itself the means necessary for reforming
without destroying. But for this purpose a spontaneous development of events
was necessary to bear in mind that the mere action of man is of little avail,
that sudden attempts are dangerous ; that the great productions of society are
like those of nature, both requiring an indispensable element, time.

There is one fact which appears to me to have been too little reflected upon,
although including the explanation of some strange phenomena of the last three
centurfes. This fact is, that Protestantism has prevented civilization from
becoming homogeneous, in spite of a strong tendency urging all the nations of
Europe to homogeneity. The civilization of the nations without doubt receives
its nature and its characteristics from the principles that have given it life and
movement ; now these principles being the same, or very nearly so, in all the
aations of Europe, these nations must have borne a close resemblance to each
other. History and philosophy agree on this point ; therefore, so long as the
European nations did not receive the inculcation of any germ of division, their
civil and political institutions were developed with a very remarkable simi
larity. True, certain differences were observable in them which were the
inevitable consequence i of a variety of circumstances; but we see that thej

376 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

were becoming more and more alike and forming Europe into one vast whole,
jf which we can scarcely form a correct idea, accustomed as we are to ideas of
disunion. This homogeneity would have arrived at its perfection through the
effect of the rapidity which the increase and prosperity of commerce and the
arts gave to intellectual and material communications; the art of printing
would have contributed to it more than anything else, for the ebb and flow of
ideas would have dispersed the inequalities separating the nations one from
another. »

But unfortunately, Protestantism appeared and separated the European
people into two great families, which, since their division, have professed a
mortal hatred towards each other. This hatred has been the cause of furious
wars, in which torrents of blood have been shed. One thing yet more fatal
than these catastrophies was the germ of civil, political, and literary schism,
introduced into the bosom of Europe by the absence of religious unity. Civil
and political institutions, and all the branches of learning, had appeared and
prospered in Europe under the influence of religion ] the schism was religious j
it affected even the root, and extended to the branches. Thus arose among
the various nations those brazen walls which kept them separate ; the spirit of
suspicion and mistrust was everywhere spread; things which before would
have been deemed innocent or without importance, from that time were looked
upon as eminently dangerous.

What uneasiness, disquietude, and agitation must have been the result of
these fatal complications ! We may say that in this detestable germ is con
tained the history of the calamities with which Europe was afflicted during the
last three centuries. To what may we attribute the Anabaptist wars in Ger
many, those of the empire, and the Thirty-years war ; those of the Huguenots
in Francej and the bloody scenes of the League ; and that profound source of
division, that uninterrupted series of discord, which beginning with the
Huguenots, was continued by the Jansenists, and then by philosophers, termi
nating in the Convention ? Had England not contained in her bosom that
nest of sects engendered by Protestantism, would she have had to suffer the
disasters of a revolution which lasted so many years ? Had Henry VIII. not
seceded from the Catholic Church, Great Britain would not have passed two-
thirds of the sixteenth century in the most atrocious religious persecutions,
and under the most brutal despotism ; she would not have been drowned during
the greater part of the seventeenth in torrents of blood, shed by sectarian fana
ticism. Had it not been for Protestantism, would England have been in the fatai
position in which she is placed by the Irish question, scarcely leaving her a
choice between a dismemberment of the empire and a terrible revolution ?
Would not nations of brethren have found the means of coming to an amicable
understanding, if, during the last three centuries, religious discords had not
separated them by a lake of blood ? Those offensive and defensive con
federations between nation and nation, which divided Europe into two parties,
as inimical to each other as the Christians to the Mussulmans, that traditional
hatred between the North and the South, that profound separation between
Protestant and Catholic Germany, between Spain and England, between th.at
uountry and France, were sure to have an extraordinary effect in retarding
communications between European nations ; and what would have been obtained
much sooner by moral means, could only be obtained by material ones. Steam
tends to convert Europe into one vast city ; if men who were one day to live
under the same roof hated one another for three centuries, what was the cause
of it? If people s hearts had been united long before in mutual affection,
would not the happy moment in which they were to join hands have been
hastened ?

877

CHAPTER LXVI.

POLITICAL DOCTRINES IN SPAIN.

MY explanation of this matter would be incomplete, were 1 tc Uave the fol
lowing difficulty unresolved : " In Spain, Catholicity has prevailed exclusively,
and under it an absolute monarchy was established, a sufficient indication that
Catholic doctrines are inimical to political liberty." The great majority of
men never look deeply into the real nature of things, nor pay due attention to
the true meaning of* words. Present them with something in strong relief that
will make a vivid impression on their imagination, and they take facts just as
they appear at the first glance, thoughtlessly confounding causality with coinci
dence. It cannot be denied that the empire of the Catholic religion coincided
in Spain with the final preponderance of absolute monarchy j but the question
is, Was the Catholic religion the true cause of this preponderance? Was it she
that overturned the ancient cortes, to establish the throne of absolute monarchs
on the ruins of popular institutions ?

Before we commence our examination into the cause that destroyed the in
fluence of the nation on public affairs, it may be well to remind the reader
that in Denmark, Sweden, and Germany, absolutism was established and up
held in juxtaposition with Protestantism. Hence the argument of coincidence
is very little worth, as, owing to the exact identity of circumstances in the two
cases, it could just as well be proved that Protestantism leads to absolutism.
I will just observe here, that in my endeavors to demonstrate in the foregoing
chapters that the pseudo-Reformation tended to the overthrow of political
liberty, I. have not rested my arguments upon coincidences only, however careful
I may have been to point them out to the reader. I have said that Protestant
ism, by diffusing dissolvent doctrines, had occasioned a necessity for an exten
sion of temporal power ; that by destroying the political influence of the clergy
and the Popes, it had destroyed the equilibrium between the social classes, left
no counterpoise to the throne, and further augmented the power of the
monarch, by granting him ecclesiastical supremacy in Protestant countries, and
exaggerating his prerogatives in Catholic nations.

But we will dismiss these general considerations, and fix our attention upon
Spain. This nation has the misfortune to be one of those that are least known ;
its history is not properly studied, nor are sound views taken of its present
condition. Its troubles, its rebellions, its civil wars, proclaim that it has not
yet received its true system of government, which proves that the nation to be
governed is but imperfectly understood. Its history is, if possible, still less
perfectly understood. The present influence of events already very remote,
works secretly and almost imperceptibly; and hence the eye of the observer
is satisfied with a superficial view of affairs, and he forms his opinions toe
hastily — opinions which too often, in consequence, take the place of facts
and reality. In treating of the causes that have deprived Spain of her
political liberty, almost all authors fix their attention principally or exclu
sively upon Castile, giving monarchs infinitely more credit for sagacity than
the course of events would seem to justify. They generally select the war
jf the Communeros as their point of view, and, according to certain writers,
but for the defeat at Villalar, the liberties of Spain would have been forever
secure. I admit that the war of the Communeros affords an excellent point of
view for the study of this matter ; in fact, the field of Villalar was in some
measure witness to the conclusion of the drama. Castile should be regarded
as the centre of events ; and it is here that the Spanish monarchs gave proof
of great sagacity in the manner in which they brought the enterprise to a
dose Nevertheless, I do not deem it just to give an exclusive prefeience to ona
48 2 G 2

878 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

of these considerations, and it does appeal to me that the real sU :e of the
question is generally misconceived : effects are taken for causes, accessories foi
principals.

In my opinion, the ruin of free institutions resulted from the following
causes : — 1st, the premature and immoderately extensive levelopment of these
institutions; 2dly, the formation of the Spanish nation out of a successive
reunion of very heterogeneous parts, all possessing institutions extremely
popular; 3dly, the establishment of the centre of power in the middle of the
provinces where these forms were most restricted, and where the authority of
the crown was the greatest ; 4thly, the extreme abundance of wealth, the power
and the splendor which the Spanish people saw everywhere around them, and
which lulled them to sleep in the arms of prosperity ; 5thly, the exclusively
military position of the Spanish monarchs, whose armies were everywhere vic
torious, their military power and prestige being at their height precisely at the
critical time when the quarrel had to be decided. I will take a rapid view of
these causes, although the nature of this work does not permit me to devote to
them the space which the gravity and importance of the subject demand. The
reader will pardon me this political digression on account of the close con
nection existing between this subject and the religious question.

As regards popular forms of government. Spain has been in advance of all
monarchical nations. This is an indubitable fact. In Spain, these forma
received a premature and extreme development; and this contributed to their
ruin, as a child sickens and dies, if, in its tender years, its growth is too rapid,
or its intellect too precocious. This active spirit of liberty, this multitude of
fueros and of privileges, these impediments everywhere placed in the way of
power, checking the rapidity and energy of its action — this great development
of the popular element, in its very nature restless and turbulent, existing
simultaneously with the wealth, the power, and the pride of the aristocracy,
very naturally gave rise to many commotions. Elements so numerous, so
various, and so opposite to each other, which, moreover, had not time to be
combined so as to form a peaceable and harmonious whole, were not likely to
work tranquilly together. Order is the prime necessity of society • it is essen
tial to the growth of the ideas, the manners, and the laws of a nation.
Wherever there exists a germ of continual disorder, how deep soever it may
have struck its roots, it is sure to be extirpated, or at least crushed, so as no
longer to keep public tranquillity in perpetual danger. The municipal and
political organization of Spain had this inconvenience, and hence an imperative
necessity for its modification. But the ideas and the manners of the time were
such, that matters could not be expected to stop at a simple modification. The
system of constituencies, which so easily creates numerous a-ssemblies, either
to enact new fundamental codes or to reform the old ones, was not then under
stood as it is in our days ; neither were men's ideas at that time so generalized
as to place them above all that exclusively and particularly relates to a people,
at a point of elevation whence they could no longer observe every petty local
object, but had their attention wholly engrossed by mankind, society, the nation,
or the government. It was not so at that time : a charter of liberty granted
by a king to a city or a town ; an immunity wrested from a feudal lord by his
armed vassals; some privilege obtained in reward of warlike achievements, or
sometimes granted as a recompense for the bravery of a man's ancestors; a
concession to the cortes, made by the monarch in exchange fcr the grant of a
contribution, or, as it was then termed, of a service, — a law or custom, the
antiquity of which lay hidden in the depths of the past, or confounded with
the infancy of monarchy : such, to give a few instances, were the titles of which
they were proud, and which they maintained with jealous ardor

Liberty n^w-a-days is more vague, and sometimes less positive, owing to the

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 879

generalizatior and elevation which men's ideas have assumed; but then it is
Far less liable to destruction. Speaking a language well understood by the
people, and appearing as the common cause of all nations, it awakens universal
sympathies, and is in a position to found more extensive associations as a gua
rantee against the attacks of power. The words liberty, equality, rights of
man, intervention of the people in public affairs, ministerial responsibility,
public opinion, liberty of the press, toleration, and other similar ones, do
undoubtedly contain a great diversity of meanings, which it would be difficult
ti determine and to classify when we come to make a specific application of
them ; and yet these words present to the mind certain ideas which, although
complicated and confused, have a false appearance of clearness and simplicity.
On the other hand, these words represent certain striking objects that dazzle
the mind by their vivid and flattering colors, and hence they cannot be uttered
without exciting a lively interest; they are understood by the masses, and
hence every self-constituted champion of the ideas they convey is at once
regarded as a defender of the rights of all mankind. But imagine yourself
living among the people of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and your
position will be found very different. Take for your subject the franchises of
Catalonia or of Castile, and address yourself to the Aragonese, who were so
intractable on £he subject of their fueros, and you will produce no effect — will
not succeed in awakening either their zeal or their interest ; a charter that does
not contain the name of one of their towns or cities is, in their eyes, a thing of
no importance, and foreign to their wishes. This inconvenience, originating in
the ideas of the times, which were naturally confined to local circumstances,
became very great in Spain, where, under the same sceptre, there was formed
an amalgamation of people differing most widely in their manners, in their
municipal and political organization, and divided, moreover, by rivalries and
animosities. In such a state of things it was comparatively easy to curtail the
liberties of one province without giving umbrage to the others, or exciting their
apprehensions for their own liberties. If, at the period of the insurrections of
the Communeros in Castile against Charles V , there had existed that commu
nication of ideas and sentiments, and those lively sympathies, which at the
present time unite people together, the defeat of Villalar would have been a
simple defeat and nothing more ; the cry of alarm, resounding throughout Ara-
gon and Castile, would certainly have given more trouble to the young and
ill-advised monarch. But such was not the case ; all the efforts of the people
were isolated, and consequently barren of results. The royal power, proceed
ing upon a fixed and steady plan, was able to beat down piecemeal these
scattered forces, and the result was not doubtful. In 1521, Padilla, Bravo,
and Maldonado perished on the scaffold; in 1591, D. Diego de Heredia, D.
Juan de Luna, and the Justiciar j himself, D. Antonio de Lanuza, met the same
fate ; when, in 1640, the Catalonians rose in insurrection for the defence of
their rights, notwithstanding the manifestos they issued to attract supporters,
they found no one to assist them. There were then no flying sheets, coming
every morning tio fix the attention of the people upon all sorts of questions, and
to stir up alarm at the least appearance of danger to their liberties. The peo-
ple, warmly attached to their customs and usages, satisfied with the nominal
confirmations which their monarchs were daily giving to their fueros, proud
also of the respect shown to their ancient liberties, were little aware that they
were confronted by a sagacious adversary, who never resorted to force but to
effect a decisive blow, yet constantly held his powerful arm ready to crush
them. An attentive study of the history of Spain will show that the concen
tration of the whole governing power in the hands of the monarch, to the
exclusion, as far as was possible, of popular influence, dates from the reign ot
Ferdinand and Isabella. Nor is this surprising; for there was then a

380 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

necessity for such a course, and it could be more •easily adopted. There was 4
greater necessity; for, from that time, the action of government began to
extend from one common center over the whole of Spain, the various portions
of which differed so widely in their laws, their manners, and their customs ;
hence the central action naturally felt more sensibly the embarrassment occa
sioned by so great a diversity of cortes, of municipalities, of codes, and of
privileges; and, as every government wishes its action to be rapid and effica
cious, the idea of simplifying, uniting, and centralizing their power naturally
took possession of the kings of Spain. It is, in fact, easy to understand that
a monarch at the head of numerous armies, with magnificent fleets at his dis
posal, who had, on a hundred occasions, humbled his most powerful foes, and
won the respect of foreign nations, would not like to be continually going to
preside over the cortes in Castile, in Aragon, in Valencia, and in Catalonia.
It would undoubtedly cost him dear to be constantly repeating the oath binding
him to protect the rights and liberties of his subjects, and listening to the per
petual strain re-echoed in his ears by the procuradorcs of Castile, and the
brazos of Aragon, Valencia, and Catalonia. It was hard for him to be obliged
humbly to solicit from the cortes assistance for the expenses of the state, and
particularly for almost continual wars. If he submitted to this, it was only
from the dread of those resolute men, real lions in the battle-field when fighting
in defence of their religion, their country, and their king, and who would have
fought with no less intrepidity in their streets and houses, had an attempt been
made to despoil them of those rights and franchises which they inherited from
their forefathers.

The union of the crowns of Aragon and Castile alone so far prepared the
way for the ruin of popular institutions, that it followed almost necessarily.
From that time, in fact, the throne had obtained too great a preponderance for
the fueros of the kingdoms recently united to oppose it with success. To ima
gine the existence at that period of a political power capable of resisting the
crown, we must suppose all the assemblies held from time to time in the
different kingdoms under the name of cortes united into one grand national
representative body, with a power analogous to that of the king ; we must sup
pose this central assembly actuated by a zeal equal to that of the ancient
assemblies for the preservation of their fueros and privileges, ready to sacrifice
all their rivalries to the public good, and advancing towards their object with a
firm step, in one compact mass, and never giving an advantage to their adver
sary. In other words, we must suppose what was utterly impossible at that
period ; impossible, on account of the ideas, the habits, and the rivalries of the
people ; impossible, at a time when the people were incapable of comprehending
the question in so lofty a sense ; impossible, owing to the resistance which it
would have met with from the monarchs ; to the embarrassment and compli
cation, arising from the municipal, social, and political organization. In a
word, it was something impossible to effect or even to conceive.

Every circumstance was in favor of the aggrandizement of the royal power
The monarch being no longer merely king of Aragon or of Castile, but of Spain,
the ancient kingdoms dwindled into insignificance before the majesty and the
splandor of the throne, and sank by degrees to the rank which alone suited
them, that of provinces. From that moment the action of the monarch became
more extensive and complicated, and consequently he could not come so fre
quently into contact with his vassals. The celebration of the cortes in each of
the recently united kingdoms, would have occasioned long delays; for the king
was oftentimes engaged at another part of the empire. When sedition was to
be chastised, abuses to be checked, or excesses to be repressed, he was no
longer obliged to have recourse to the forces of the particular kingdom in which
th-ise things occurred, as he could employ the arms of Castile to subdue insur-

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 381

recnoa in the kingdom of Aragon, and those of Aragon to put dowk the rebels
of Castile. Grenada lay at his feet ; Italy yielded to one of his victorious
captains; in his fleet was Columbus, who had just discovered a .new world;
under these circumstances, it was in vain to listen for the murmurs of the
cortes and of ayuntamientos, — these were no longer heard, they had totally
disappeared.

Had the national manners had a peaceable tendency, had not Spain been
habituated to war, democratic institutions would probably have been preserved
with less difficulty. Had the attention of the people been fixed exclusively upon
their municipal and political affairs, they would have better understood their
real interests ; kings themselves would not have been so ready to rush into war,
and the throne would in some degree have lost the prestige it obtained from
the splendor and success of its armies; the administration would not have been
imbued with that blunt harshness for which military habits are always more
or less remarkable; and the ancient fueros would thus have more easily retained
some consideration. But precisely at that period Spain was the most warlike
nation in the world ; it was in its element on the battle-field ; seven centuries
of combats had made it a nation of soldiers. Its recent victories over the
Moors ; the exploits of its armies in Italy ; the discoveries of Columbus ; every
thing, in fine, contributed to its exaltation, and to inspire it with that spirit of
chivalry which, for so long a time, was one of its distinguishing characteristics
It was necessary for the king to be a captain ; and he was certain to captivate
the minds of Spaniards, so long as he won renown by brilliant feats of arms.
Now, arms are the bane of popular institutions. After a victory on the field
of battle, the order and discipline of the camp are usually transferred to the

From the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, the throne rose to^ such a height
of power that liberal institutions were almost lost sight of. The people and
the grandees, it is true, re-appeared upon the scene after the death of Isabella ;
but this was entirely owing to the misunderstanding between Ferdinand the
Catholic and Philip le Bel, which impaired the unity, and consequently the
strength of the throne ; and hence, as soon as these circumstances disappeared,
the throne again resumed its full preponderance, and that not only during the
last days of Ferdinand, but even under the regency of Ximenes. The men of
Castile, exasperated by the excesses of the Flemish, and encouraged perhaps
by the hope, that the rule of a young monarch would be, as it usually is, only
feeble, again raised their voices ; their remonstrances and complaints speedily
ended in commotions and in open insurrection. Notwithstanding many cir
cumstances highly favorable to the Communeros, and the probability that
their conduct would be followed by all the provinces of the monarchy, we find
that the insurrection, although considerable, did not assume either the import
ance or extent of a national movement ; a great portion of the Peninsula pre
served a strict neutrality, and the rest inclined to the cause of monarchy.
I am not mistaken, this fact indicates that the throne had already obtained an
immense prestige, and was regarded as the highest and most powerful institu
tion. The entire reign of Charles V. was extremely well calculated to perfect
this beginning. Commenced under the auspices of the battle of Villalar, this
reign continued through an uninterrupted series of wars, in which the treasures
and the blood of Spain were spent with incredible profusion in all the countries
of Europe, Africa, and America, The nation was not allowed time even to
think of its affairs : almost always deprived of the presence of its king, it had
become a province at the diposal of the Emperor of Germany, the ruler of
Europe. True, the cortes of 1538 boldly gave Charles a severe lecture instead
of the succor he demanded. But it was already too late ; the clergy and the
mobility were expelled from the cortes, and the representation of Castile wail

882 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

restricted for the future to the procuradores alone ; that is, it was doomed to bt
no more than the shadow of what it had been — a mere instrument of the
royal will.

Much has been said against Philip II. ; but, in my opinion, this monarch
merely kept his place, and allowed things to take their natural course. The
crisis was already past; the question already decided; the Spanish nation
could not regain its lost influence, save by the regenerating action of centuries.
Still, we must not imagine that absolute power was so fully and completely
established as to leave not a vestige of ancient liberty ; but this liberty could
do nothing from its asylum in Aragon and Catalonia against the giant that
held it in check from the midst of a country entirely subject to his sway, from
the capital of Castile. The monarchs might probably, by one bold and heavy
blow, have struck down every thing that opposed them ; but whatever proba
bilities of success they had in the vast means at their disposal, they were very
careful not to make the attempt, but left the inhabitants of Navarre, the sub
jects of the crown of Aragon, in the tranquil enjoyment of their franchises,
rights, and privileges. At the same time, they were careful to prevent the
contagion spreading to the other provinces. By means of partial attacks, and
more especially by leading the people to allow their ancient liberties to fall
into desuetude, they gradually diminished their zeal for them, and insensibly
brought them to a habit of tamely bending under the action of a central
power. (39)

CHAPTER LXVII.

POLITICAL LIBERTY AND RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE.

IN the sketch I have here drawn, the rigorous accuracy of which no one can
question, we have not discovered any thing like oppression in Catholicity, nor
any alliance between the clergy and the throne for the destruction of liberty :
what we have discovered is merely the regular and natural order of things, —
a successive development of events contained in each other, as the plant .3
contained in the germ. As for the Inquisition, I think I have said enough re
specting it in the chapters that treat of it : in this place I will merely observe.
that it was not a political instrument in the hands of kings, ready to be used
at their beck. Religion was its object; and as we have seen, far from losing
sight of this object to suit the wishes of the sovereign, it unhesitatingly con
demned the doctrines that would have unjustly extended the powers of the
monarch. Shall I be told, that the Inquisition was in its very nature intoler
ant, and consequently opposed to the growth of liberty ? I answer, that toler
ation, as now understood, had at that time no existence in any European
country. Besides, it was under the direct and full influence of religious in
tolerance that the people were emancipated, municipalities organized, the system
of large representative assemblies established, which, under different names,
and more or less directly, interfered in public aifairs.

Men's ideas were not yet so far perverted as to lead them to believe that
religion was favorable and conducive to the oppression of the people ; on the
contrary, we observe in the hearts of these people a vehement desire for liberty
and progress, whilst at the same time they clung with enthusiasm to a faith, in
the sight of which it appeared to them just and salutary to refuse toleration to
any doctrine at variance with the teaching of the Church of Home. Unity of
faith does not fetter the people — does not impede their movements in any direc-
titm — as well, indeed, might it be said, that the mariner is fettered by the com-
that giiides him in safety through the wide expanse of waters. Wa.s the

'V

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 888

tnoient unity of European civilization wanting in grandeur, in variety, or ii
beauty ? Did Catholic unity, presiding over the destinies of society, arrest its
progress, even in the ages of barbarism ? Let us fix our eyes upon the grand
and delightful spectacle exhibited in the centuries preceding the sixteenth, and
pause a moment to reflect; we shall all the better understand in what manner
Protestantism has given a wrong direction to the course of civilization.

The immense agitation occasioned by the gigantic enterprise of the Crusades
shows in what a state of fermentation were the elements deposited in the bosom
of society. The shock excited them to activity — union augmented their force
— every where, and in every sense, was to be seen a vigorous and active move
ment, a sure presage of the high degree of civilization and refinement which
Europe was about to attain. The arts and sciences, as if called into life by
some powerful voice, reappeared, loudly assorting their claim to protection and
an honorable reception. On the feudal castles, those heirlooms of the man
ners of the period of con'quest, a ray of light suddenly gleamed, that illumin
ated with the rapidity of lightning all climates and all people. Those masses
of men, who had hitherto bent in painful toil for the benefit of their masters,
now lifted up their heads, and, with bold hearts and enfranchised lips, demanded
a share in social advantages. Addressing each other with a look of intelli
gence, they combined together, and insisted in common that the law should be
substituted for caprice. Then towns sprang up, increased in size and import
ance, and were surrounded with ramparts; municipal institutions arose, and
began to develop themselves; kings, till then the sport of the pride, ambition
or stubbornness of the feudal lords, seized upon an opportunity so favorable,
and made common cause with the people. Threatened with destruction, feud
alism entered valiantly into the contest, but in vain ; and, restrained by a power
even more irresistible than the weapons of its adversaries, and, as if oppressed
by the air it breathed, it felt its action impeded, its energies enfeebled, and,
despairing of victory, it gave itself up to the enjoyment to be found in the
patronage of the arts.

To the coat of mail now succeeded elegance of dress ; to the powerful shield,
the pompous escutcheon ; to the bearing and address of the warrior, the man
ners of the courtier : — thus was the whole power of feudalism undermined ; the
popular element was left completely at liberty to develop itself; and the powers
of monarchs became every day more extensive. Royalty thus strengthened,
municipal institutions in full vigor, and feudalism undermined, the remnants
of barbarism and oppression still existing in the laws fell one by one beneath
the attacks of so many adversaries ; and, for the first time in the world's history,
there was seen a considerable number of great nations presenting the peaceful
spectacle of many millions of men living in social union, and enjoying together
the rights of men and of citizens. Until this period, public tranquillity, and
even the very existence of society, had to be secured by carefully excluding
from the working of the political machine a great number of individuals by
means of slavery — a system that proved at once the intrinsic inferiority and
weakness of the 'governments of antiquity. The Christian religion, with the
courage inspired by the consciousness of strength, and with an ardent love for
humanity, had never doubted that she held in her hands other means of re
straining men than a recourse to degradation and violence, and had, in fact,
resolved the problem in a manner the most noble and generous. She had said
to society : " Dost thou dread this immense multitude, that have no sufficient
titles to thy confidence ? I will stand security for them. Thou enslavest them ;
thou puttest chains arourd their necks; I will subdue their hearts. Leave
them free ; and this multitude, before which thou tremblest as before^
wild beasts, will become a class of men serviceable to themselves
This voice had been heard, and all men were freed from the yok<

884 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

all entered upon this noble struggle, which was to place society in equilibrium^
without destroying or shaking its foundations. We have already said above,
that there existed powerful adversaries. Shocks more or less violent were
inevitable ; but there was no cause for anticipating any serious catastrophe,
unless some fatal combination of circumstances arose to overthrow the only
power capable of moderating the inflamed, and sometimes exasperated, passions
of men — to impose silence upon that powerful voice, ever ready to say to the
combatants, That is enough. That voice — the voice of Christianity — might
have been heard with greater or less docility; but it would always have sufficed
to calm down the fury of the passions, to moderate the fierceness of their con
flicts, and thus to prevent scenes of bloodshed.

If we take a glance at Europe at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of
the sixteenth centuries, with a view to discover the social elements, whose
struggle seemed likely to disturb public tranquillity, we shall find the power
of the throne already far superior to that of the lofds and of the people ; we
shall see it endeavoring to please its rivals, lending its aid to one for the sub
jugation of the others : but already this power was evidently indestructible.
Held more or less in check by the proud remnants of feudalism, and by the
ever-growing and encroaching power of .the people, monarchy nevertheless
maintained its position as a central force for the protection of society against
violence and excess. This tendency was so strong, that we every where meet
with the same phenomenon, manifested with more or less distinctness, and with
characters of greater or less identity. The nations of Europe were great both,
in numbers and extent; the abolition of slavery gave a sanction to the prin
ciple, that man ought to live free in the midst of society, enjoying its most
essential advantages, and with sufficient room to enable him to take a more or
less elevated rank, according to the means he employs to gain it. Thus society
had said to each individual : " I acknowledge thee as a man and a citizen ; from
this moment I guarantee to thee the possession of these titles. If them desirest
to lead a quiet life in the bosom of thy family — labor and be careful ; no one
shall wrest from thee the rewards of thy labors, nor trammel the free exercise
of thy faculties. Dost thou aspire to the possession of wealth — consider how
others have acquired it, and display a similar activity and intelligence. Art
thou ambitious of fame, of rising to an elevated rank, to splendid titles — the
sciences and the military profession are before thee. If thou hast inherited an
illustrious name, thou mayest still increase its lustre ; if thou art not in pos
session of such a name, thou art free to acquire one."

Such was the condition of the social problem at the end of the fifteenth
century. Every thing was made public, all the great means of action were
openly developing themselves with rapidity ; the art of printing already trans
mitted men's thoughts from one end of the world to the other with the speed
of lightning, and insured their preservation for the benefit of future genera-
tions. The frequent intercourse between nations, the revival of literature and
the arts, the cultivation of the sciences, the inclination for travelling and com
merce, the discovery of a new passage to the East Indies, the discovery of
America, the preference given to political negotiations for effecting the arrange
ments of international relations, — every thing combined to give to the minds
of men that strong impulse, that shock which at once arouses and develops all
their faculties, and gives new life. It is difficult to understand by what process
of reasoning, in the face of facts so positive and certain, — facts that stand sc
prominently forward in every page of history, any man could ever seriously
maintain that Protestantisn aided human progress. If previous to Luther's
reform society had been found stationary, and still submerged in the chaos
into which it had been plunged by the irruptions of the barbarians ; if the people
had not succeeded, previously to that reform, in forming themselves into great

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH OATHOLICITl 886

nations, and in providing themselves with systems of government more or less
perfectly organized, but all unquestionably superior to any that had hitherto
existed, — the assertion might carry with it a degree of plausibility, or, at all
events, it would not stand, as it unfortunately does, in direct opposition to
the most authentic and notorious facts. But what, on the contrary, was the
actual state of Europe at the time of Luther's appearance ? The administration
of justice, exercised with mo/e or less perfection, already possessed a highly
moral, rational, and equitable system of legislation for the guidance of its
decisions ; the people had in great part shaken off the yoke of feudalism, and
had acquired abundant resources for the preservation and defence of their
liberties ; the executive had made immense progress, owing to the establish
ment, extension, and amelioration of municipalities ; the royal authority,
enlarged, fortified, and consolidated, formed in the midst of society a
central force powerful to work good, to prevent evil, to restrain the passions, to
preserve the balance of interests, to prevent ruinous social contests, and to
watch over the general welfare of society by constant protection and effectual
encouragement ; in fine, at that period nations were seen to fix a look of great
foresight and sagacity on the rock upon which the vessel of society is in danger
of being wrecked, whenever the power of royalty is left without any sort of
counterpoise. Such was already the condition of Europe before the religious
revolution of the sixteenth century.

I promptly concede that great progress has been made since that period in
all matters of a social, political and administrative nature ; but does it follow
that this progress is owing to the Protestant Reformation ? To prove that it is,
it would be necessary to produce two societies absolutely similar in position
and circumstances, but separated by a long space of time, that would
render all reciprocal influence between them impossible, and subjected, one
to the influence of the Catholic, the other to the Protestant principle ; then
each of the two religions might come forward and say to the world, " This is
my work." But it is absurd to compare, as is often done, times so widely dif
ferent, circumstances so utterly dissimilar and exceptional with ordinary cases ;
it should also be remembered, that, in every thing, the first step is always the
most difficult, and the greatest merit is always due to invention ; in a word,
after so many other violations of the rules of logic, our opponents should not
obstinately persist in deducing from one single fact all other facts, simply
because the latter happen to be posterior to the former, otherwise they will
fall under suspicion of insincerity in their search after truth, and of a wish to
falsify history.

The organization of European society, such as Protestantism found it, was,
assuredly not perfect, but it was, at all events, as perfect as was possible. Unless
Providence had vouchsafed to govern the world by prodigies, Europe, at this
period, could not have attained to a more advantageous position. The elements
of progress, of happiness, of civilization and refinement, were in her bosom ; they
were numerous and powerful ; time was developing them by degrees in a man
ner truly wonderful ; and as mournful experience is every day lessening the
prestige and credit of destructive doctrines, the time is perhaps not far distant,
when philosophers, examining dispassionately this period of history, will agree
that society had even then received the most fortunate impulse. It will be seen
that Protestantism, by giving a wrong direction to the march of society, only pre
cipitated it upon a perilous route, where it has been on the brink of ruin ; and
would perhaps have been ruined altogether, had .not the hand of the Most High
been stronger than the feeble arm of man. Protestants boast of having rendered
great service to society by having destroyed in some countries, and impaired
in others, the power of the Popes. As regards the Papal supremacy in rela
tion to matters of faith, what 1 have elsewhere said will suffice to d^
49 2 H

880 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the disastrous consequences of the exercise of private judgment ; as to disciiv
line, I am unwilling to enter upon questions that would indefinitely extend the
limits of this work. I will merely ask my opponents, whether they deem it pru
dent to leave a society co-extensive with the world \vithout a legislator, without a
judge, without an arbitrator, without a counsellor, without a chief?

Temporal power. — This term has long been the bugbear of kings — the
watchword of the anti-Catholic partj — a snare into which many upright men
have fallen — a butt for the shafts of discontented statesmen, disappointed
writers, and snarling canonists; and nothing more natural, seeing that the
subject afforded them an opportunity of pouring out their resentments, and of
giving currency to their suspicious doctrines, well assured that, by affecting
zeal for the power of the monarch, they would find, in case of danger, a ready
asylum in the palaces of kings. The present is not the place for the discus
sion of a question that has been the subject of so many vehement and learned
disputes; and it would be the more inopportune, as, in the existing state of
things, assuredly no power apprehends the least temporal usurpation on the
part of the Holy See, which, whatever its enemies may say, has evinced at all
times, and even humanly speaking, more prudence, tact, patience, and wisdom
than any other power upon earth ; and amidst the extreme difficulties of modern
times, has taken up a position that enables it to yield to the various exigencies
of the times without any compromise of its high dignity, without any deviation
from its sublime obligations. It is certain that the temporal power of the
Popes had risen in the course of time to such a height, that the successor of St.
Peter had become a universal counsellor, arbitrator, and judge, from whose
sentence it was dangerous to appeal, even in purely political matters. The general
movement throughout Europe had somewhat weakened this power ; but yet, at
the moment when Protestantism made its appearance, it still had such an as
cendency over the minds of men, it commanded so much veneration and respect,
and was possessed of such vast means for defending its rights, enforcing its
pretensions, supporting its decisions, and making its counsels respected, that
the most powerful monarchs of Europe considered it a very serious matter to
have the Court of Rome opposed to them in any affair whatever ; and conse
quently they eagerly sought on all occasions, to secure its favor and friendship.
Rome had thus become a general centre of negotiation, and no affair of impor
tance could escape its influence.

Such have been the outcries raised against the colossal power, against this
pretended usurpation of rights, that one might suppose the Popes to have been
a succession of deep conspirators, who, by their intrigues and artifices, aimed
at nothing short of universal monarchy. As our opponents plume themselves
on their spirit of observation and historical analysis, I felt it necessary to
observe, that the temporal power of the Popes was strengthened and extended
at a time when no other power was as yet really constituted. To call that
power usurpation therefore, is not merely an inaccuracy — it is an anachronism.
In the general confusion brorght upon all European society by the irruptions
of the barbarians, in that strange medley of races, laws, manners, and tradi
tions, there remained only one solid foundation for the structure of the edifice
:>f civilization and refinement, only one luminous body to shine upon the chaos,
only one element capable of giving life to the germ of regeneration that lay
buried in blood-stained ruins — Christianity, predominant over and annihilating
the remains of other religions, nrose, in this age of desolation, like a solitary
column in the center of a ruiuec city, or like a bright beacon amid darkness.

Barbarians, and proud of thei* triumphs as they were, the conquering people
bowed their heads beneath the pastoral skiff that governs the flock of Jesua
Christ. Tne spiritual pastors, a body of men quite ne~v to these barbarians,
ind speaking a lofty and divine laueuace. obtained ovei the chiefs of the fer;>

PROTESTANTISM COMPART D WITH CATHOLICITY. 88T

ciaus bordes from the north a complete and permanent ascendency, which the
Bourse of ages could not destroy. Such was the foundation of the temporal
power in the Church ; and it will be easily conceived that at? the Pope towered
above all the other pastors in the ecclesiastical edifice, like a superb cupola
above the other parts of a magnificent temple, his temporal power must have
risen far higher than that of ordinary bishops ; and must also have had a deeper,
nnre solid, and more lasting foundation. All the principles of legislation, all
the foundations of society, all the elements of intellectual culture, all that
remained of the arts and sciences, all was in the hands of religion ; and all very
naturally sought protection from the pontifical throne, the only power acting
with order, concert, and regularity, and the only one that offered any guarantee
for stability and permanence. Wars succeeded to wars, convulsions to convul
sions, the forms of society were continually changing; but the one great,
general, and dominant fact, the stability and influence of religion, remained
still the same : and it is ridiculous in any man to declaim against a pheno'menon
so natural, so inevitable, and, above all, so advantageous, designating it, " A
succession of usurpations of temporal power."

Power, ere it can be usurped, must exist; and where, I pray, did temporal
power then exist ? Was it in kings ? — the sport, and frequently the victims
of the haughty barons ? In the feudal lords ? — continually engaged in contests
amongst themselves, with kings, and with the people ? In fine, was it in the
people ? — a troop of slaves, who, thanks to the efforts of religion, were slowly
working out their freedom ? The people, it is tru-?, united against the lords —
they raised their voices to demand protection from *he monarch, or to solicit
the aid of the Church against the vexations and outrages inflicted on them by
both ; still, however, they as yet formed but an unorganized embryo of society,
without any fixed rule, without government, and without laws. Could we
honestly compare modern times with these ? Could we apply to these bygone
ages restrictions and distinctions of authority that are admissible only in a state
of society in which the elements of life and civilization have been developed,
in which solid and permanent foundations have been laid, in which, conse
quently, the functions of social authority could be, and have in effect been,
regulated, after a minute analysis of the limits of their respective jurisdictions ?
To reason otherwise, would be to seek order in chaos, smoothness on the sur
face of a tempest-tossed ocean. We should not forget, either, a general and
unvarying fact, founded on. the very nature of things, — a fact, moreover, to
which the history of all times and all countries is continually calling o;ir atten
tion, and which has received a striking confirmation from the revolutions of
modern times, — viz. that whenever society is deeply diseased, there is always
at hand a principle of life to stay the progress of the malady. A contest takes
place — collisions occur one after another — they become more frequent and more
violent; but ultimately the principle of order prevails over that of disorder, and
continues long afterwards to predominate in society. This principle may be
more or less just, more or less rational, more or less violent, more or less ade
quate to attain its object; but whatever it be in these respects, it always
prevails in the end, unless, during the struggle, another, a better and more
powerful principle takes its place.

Now, in the middle ages, this principle was the Christian Church. She alone
could be this principle, for she had truth in her doctrines, justice in her laws,
and regularity and prudence in her government. She was the only element of
life that existed a* this period — the only depository of the grand idea upon
which the reorganization of society depended ; and this idea was not vague and
abstract, but positive and practicable, for it proceeded from the lips of Him
whose word calls forth worlds out of nothing, and makes light to shine forth in
the midst of darkness. When once the subKme doctrines of th^ Church nad

$88 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

penetrated into the heart of society, her pure, fraternal, and consoling morality
necessarily influenced its manners. Forms of government also, and systems
of legislation were, in like manner, more or less affected by her mild and pow
erful influence. These are facts — undeniable facts. Now, the Roman Pontiffs
were the center of this happy preponderance which religion so legitimately
obtained and so justly deserved ; hence it is clear that the power of the Holy
See very naturally rose above all other powers.

After having contemplated this sublime picture, drawn from the plain and
authentic records of history, why dwell on the defects or the vices of some few
individuals ? Why drag to light the excesses, the errors, the disorders ever
incident to humanity ? Why maliciously seek out facts through a long suc
cession of obscure ages, collecting them together and placing them in a light
most calculated to make an impression, and to mislead the ignorant? Why,
in fine, urge, exaggerate, disfigure, and paint these facts in the darkest possible
colors ? To do so, is to betray a very shallow understanding of the philosophy
of history, a spirit of great partiality, low views, grovelling sentiments, and
miserable spleen. It should be loudly proclaimed to the whole world, and a
thousand times repeated, that it may never be forgotten, that limits which have
no existence cannot be respected — that to create power is not to usurp it — that
to make laws is not to violate them — that to reduce to order the chaos in which
society is overwhelmed is not to disturb society. Now this was the work of
the Church — this is what was done by the Popes. (40)

CHAPTER LXVIII.

UNITY IN FAITH NOT ADVERSE TO POLITICAL LIBERTY.

THE supposed incompatibility of unity in faith with political liberty is an
invention of the irreligious philosophy of the last century. Whatever political
opinions be adopted, it is of extreme importance that we be on our guard
against such a doctrine. We must not forget that the Catholic religion occu
pies a sphere far* above all forms of government — she does not reject from her
bosom either the citizen of the United States, or the inhabitant of Russia, but
embraces all men with equal tenderness, commanding all to obey the legitimate
governments of their respective countries. She considers them all as children
of the same father, participators in the same redemption, heirs to the same
glory. It is very important to bear in mind that irreligion allies itself to liberty
or to despotism, according as its interests incline; lavish of its applause when
an infuriated populace are burning temples and massacring the ministers of the
altar, it is ever ready to flatter monarchs, to exaggerate their power beyond
measure, whenever they win its favor by despoiling the clergy, subverting dis
cipline, and insulting the Pope. Caring little what instruments it employs,
provided it accomplishes its work, it is royalist when in a position to sway the
minds of kings, to expel the Jesuits from France, from Spain, from Portugal,
to pursue them to the four quarters of the globe without allowing them either
respite or repose; liberal in the midst of popular assemblies that exact sacri
legious oaths from the clergy, and send into exile or to the scaffold the minis
ters of religion who remain faithful to their duty.

The man who cannot see that what 1 have advanced is strictly true, must
have forgotten history, and paid little attention to very recent occurrences.
With religion' and morality, all forms of government are good; without them,
none can be good. A-n absolute monarch, imbued with religious ideas, sur
rounded by counsellors of sound doctrines, and reigning over a people amongst
whom the same doctrines prevail, may make his subjects happy, and will be sure

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 889

to do so as far as circumstances of time and place permit. A wicked monarch,
yr 3ne surrounded by wicked counsellors, will do mischief in proportion to the
extent, of his powers ; he will be even more to be dreaded than revolution itself,
because better able to arrange his plans, and to carry them out more rapidly,
with fewer obstacles, a greater appearance of legality, more pretensions to pub
lic utility, and consequently with more certainty of success and of permanent
results. Revolutions have undoubtedly done great injury to the Church; but
persecuting monarchs have done equally as much. A freak of Henry VIII.
established Protestantism in England; the cupidity of certain other princes
produced a like result in the nations of the north ; and in our own days, 9
decree of the Autocrat of Russia drives millions of souls into schism. It fol
lows that an unmixed monarchy, if it be not religious, is not desirable; for
irreligion, immoral in its nature, naturally tends to injustice, and consequently
to tyranny. If irreligion be seated on an absolute throne, or if she hold pos
session of the mind of its occupant, her powers are unlimited ; and, for my part,
T know nothing more horrible than the omnipotence of wickedness.

In recent times, European democracy has signalized itself lamentably by ita
attacks upon religion ; a circumstance which, far from favoring its cause, has
injured it extremely. We can indeed form an idea of a government more or
less free, when society is virtuous, moral, and religious ; but not when these
conditions are wanting. In the latter case, the only form of government that
remains is despotism, the rule of force, for force alone can govern men who are
without conscience and without God. If we attentively consider the points of
difference between the revolution of the United States and that of France, we
shall find that one of the principal points of difference consists in this, that the
American revolution was essentially democratic, that of France essentially im
pious. In the manifestos by which the former was inaugurated, the name of
God, of Providence, is every where seen ; the men engaged in the perilous
enterprise of shaking off the yoke of Great Britain, far from blaspheming the
Almighty, invoke his assistance, convinced that the cause of independence was
the cause of reason and of justice. The French began by deifying the leaders
of irreligion, overthrowing altars, watering with the blood of priests the tem
ples, the streets, and the scaffolds — the only emblem of revolution recognized
by the people is Atheism hand in hand with liberty. This folly has borne its
fruits — it communicated its fatal contagion to other revolutions in recent times
-—the new order of things has been inaugurated with sacrilegious crimes ; and
the proclamation of the rights of man was begun by the profanation of the
temples of Him from whom all rights emanate.

Modern demagogues, it is true, have only imitated their predecessors the
Protestants, the Hussites, the Albigenses; with this difference, however, that in
Mir days irreligion has manifested itself openly, side by side with its companion,
the democracy of blood and baseness; whilst the democracy of former times
was allied with sectarian fanaticism. The dissolving doctrines of Protest
antism rendered a' stronger power necessary, precipitated the overthrow of
ancient liberties, and obliged authority to hold itself continually on the alert,
and ready to strike. When the influence of Catholicity had been enfeebled,
the void had to be filled up by a system of espionage and force. Do not for
get this, you who make war upon religion in the name of liberty; do not forget
that like causes produce like effects. Where moral influences do not exist,
their absence must be supplied by physical force : if you take from the people
the sweet yoke of religion, you leave governments no other resource than the
vigilance of police, and the force of bayonets. Reflect, and choose. Before
the advent of Protestantism, European civilization, under the aegis of the Ca
tholic religion, was evidently tending towards that general harmony, the al>
wnce of which has rendered necessary an excessive employment of force. Unity

2 ir 2

880 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

of faith disappeared, opening the way to an unrestrained liberty of opinion and
religious discord } the influence of the clergy was in some countries destroyed,
in others weakened : thus was the equilibrium between different -.lasses put an
end to, and the class naturally destined to fill the oifice of mediator rendered
powerless. By abridging the power of the Popes, both people and governments
were let loose from that gentle curb which restrained without oppressing, and
corrected without degrading ; kings and people were arrayed against each other,
without any body of men possessed of authority to interpose between them in
3ase of a conflict; without a single judge, who, the friend of both parties, and
disinterested in the quarrel, might have settled their differences with imparti
ality, governments began to place their reliance upon standing armies, and the
people upon insurrections.

And it is of no avail to allege that in countries where Catholicity prevailed,
a political phenomenon arose similar to that which we observe in Protestant
nations ; for I maintain that amongst Catholics themselves events did not
follow the coarse which they naturally would have followed, had not the fata)
Reformation intervened. To attain its complete development, European civi-
lizatiou required the unity from which it" had sprung ; it could not by any other
means establish harmony amongst the diverse elements which it sheltered in its
bosom Its homogeneity was gone the moment unity of faith disappeared.
From that hour no nation could adequately effect its organization without tak
ing into account, not only its own internal wants, but also the principles that
prevailed in other countries, against the influence of which it had to be on ita
guard. Do you suppose, for instance, that the policy of the Spanish govern
ment, constituted as it was the protector of Catholicity against powerful Pro
testant nations, was not powerfully influenced by the peculiar and very dan
gerous position of the country ?

I think I have shown that the Church has never been opposed to the legiti
mate development of any form of government; that she has taken them all
under her protection, and consequently that to assert that she is the enemy of
popular institutions is a calumny. I have also placed it equally beyond a
doubt, that the sects hostile to the Catholic Church, by encouraging a demo
cracy either irreligious or blinded by fanaticism, so far from aiding in the
establishment of just and rational liberty, have, in fact, left the people no
alternative between unbridled licentiousness and unrestrained despotism. The
lesson thus furnished by history is confirmed by experience ; and the future
will serve only to corroborate its truth. The more religious and moral men
are, the more deserving they are of liberty ; for they have then less need of
external restraints, having a most powerful one in their own consciences. An
irreligious and immoral people stand in need of some authoritv to keep them
in order, otherwise they will be constantly abusing their rights, and will con
sequently deserve to lose them. St. Augustine perfectly understood these
truths, and explains briefly and beautifully the conditions necessary for all
forms of government. The holy Doctor shows that popular forms are good
where the people are moral and conscientious ; where they are corrupt, they
require either an oligarchy or an unmixed monarchy.

I have no doubt that an interesting passage, in the form of a dialogue, that
we meet with in his first book on Free Will, chap, vi., will be read with
pleasure.

" Augustine. You would not maintain, for instance, that men or people are
so constituted by nature as to be absolutely eternal, and subject neither to
destruction nor change ? — Evodius. Who can doubt that they are changeable,
and subject to the influence of time? — Augustine. If the people are serious
and temperate ; and if, moreover, they have such a concern for the public good
that each one would prefer the public interest to his own, is it not true that

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 391

would be advisable to enact that such a people should choose their own authoritiet
for the administration of their a/airs? — Evodius. Certainly. — Augustine.
But, in case these same people become so corrupt that the citizens p efer their
own to the public good ; if they sell their votes; if, corrupted by ambitious men,
they intrust the government of the state to men as criminal and corrupt as them
selves ; is it not true that, in such a case, if there be amongst them a man of
integrity, and possessing sufficient power for the purpose, he will do well to
take'from these people the power of conferring honors, and concentrate it in
the hands of a small number of upright men, or even in the hands of one
man ? — Evodius. Undoubtedly. — A ugustine. Yet, since these laws appear
very much opposed to each other, the one granting the people the right of
conferring honors, the other depriving them of that right ; since, moreover,
they cannot both be in force at once, are we to affirm that one of these laics u
imjust, or that it should not have been enacted? — Evodius. By no means."*

The whole question is here comprised in a few words : Can monarchy, aris
tocracy, and democracy, be one and all legitimate and proper ? Yes. By what
considerations are we to be guided in our decision as to which of these forma
is legitimate and proper in any given case ? By the consideration of existing
rights, and of the condition of the people to whom such form is to be applied.
Can a form once good become bad ? Certainly it may j for all human things
are subject to change. These reflections, as solid as they are simple, will pre
vent all excessive enthusiasm in favor of any particular form of government.
This is not a mere question of theory, but one of prudence also. Now, pru
dence does not decide before having attentively considered and weighed all cir
cumstances. But there is one predominant idea in this doctrine of St. Augus
tine : this idea I have already indicated, viz. that great virtue and disinterest
edness are required under a free government. Those who are laboring to
establish political liberty on the ruins of all religious belief would do well to
reflect upon the words of the illustrious doctor.

How would you have people exercise extensive rights, if you disqualify them
by perverting their ideas and corrupting their morals ? You say that under
representative forms of government reason and justice are secured by means
of elections; and yet you labor to banish this reason and justice from the
bosom of that society in which you talk of securing th?,m. You sow the wind,
and reap the whirlwind ; instead of models of wisdom and prudence, you offer
the people scandalous scenes. Do not say that we are condemning the age,
and that it progresses in spite of us : we reject nothing that is good ; but per
versity and corruption we must reprobate. The age progresses — true; but
neither you nor we know whither. Catholics know one thing — a thing which
it needs not a prophet to tell, viz. that a good social condition cannot be formed
out of bad men ; that immoral men are bad ; that where there is no religion,
morality cannot take root. Firm in our faith, we shall leave you to try, if
you choose, a thousand forms of government, to apply your palliatives to your
own social patient, to impose upon him with deceitful words; his frequent

* Aug. Quid ipsi homines et populi, ejusne generis rerum =unt, ut interire mutarive non pos-
sint, aeternique omnino shit ? — Evod. Mutabile plane atque tempori obnoxium hoc genus esse
quis dubitet V — Aug. Ergo, si populus sit bene moderatus et gravis, comrnunisque urilitatis di
hgentissimus custos, in quo unusqui>que minoris rein privatain quam publicam pemlat, nonne
recte lex fertur, qua huic ipsi populo liceat creare sibi magistrates, per quos sua res, id est ]>ub-
lica, admiuistretur V — Evod. Recte prorsus. — Aug. Porro, si paulatim depravatus idem populus
rem privatam reipublkte praet'erat, atque liabeat venale sutfragium, corruptusque ab eis qui
honores amant, regimen in se flagitiosis conscelerati.sque committal, nonne item recte, si quis
tune extiterit vir bonus, qui plurimum possit, adimat huic populo potestatem dandi honores, et
in paucorum bonorum vel etiam unius redigal arbitrium V — Evod. Et id recte.— Any. Cum
ergo duae istae leges ita sibi videantur esse contrariae, ut uua earum honorum d.H.dJian. pohi o
tribaat potestatem, auferat alterd, et cum ista secunda ita lata sit, ut nullo mriT?_v»">*» x v •
civitate simul esse possint, num dicemus aliquam earum injuslun esse et 1'erri n\ v. \\.\> a». *i «••
-Evod. Nullo modo

892 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

convulsions — his continued restlessness — are evidences of your incapacity; and
well is it for your patient that he still feels this anxiety : it is a sure sign that
you have not entirely succeeded in securing his confidence. If e^ er you do
Becure it — if ever he fall asleep quietly in your arms — " all flesh will then have
corrupted its way;" and it may also be feared lest God should resolve to sweep
man from the face of the earth.

CHAPTER LXIX.

OF INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF CATHOLICITY.

IT has been abundantly proved in the course of this work, that the pseudo-
Reformation has not in any way contributed to the perfection either of indi
viduals or of society ; from which we may naturally infer that the case is the
same as regards the development of the intellect. I am unwilling, however,
to let this truth stand merely as a corollary, and I believe it to be susceptible
of a special elucidation. We may freely examine what advantage Protest
antism has conferred upon the various branches of human learning, without any
fear of the result as regards Catholicity. When we are to examine objects
naturally embracing a great many different relations, it is not enough merely
to pronounce certain conspicuous names, or to cite with emphasis one or two
facts. This is not the way to place a question in its proper light ; and to treat
it adequately, much more is required. A discussion, either confined within
limits too narrow to admit of its full development, or allowed an indefinite
range, carries with it, in the eyes of an observer of only slight penetration, an
air of universality, elevation, and boldness, whilst in reality it is all uncertainty
and vagueness, and is liable to be involved in endless contradictions.

To investigate this question satisfactorily, we must, it seems to me, grasp
the Catholic and Protestant principles respectively, subject them to a most
rigid scrutiny, and seize upon every point that appears favorable or inimical
to the development of the human mind. Further, we should survey, in its
widest range, the history of the intellect ; pausing here and there at the epochs
where the influence of the principle whose tendencies and effects we are study
ing has been most effectively exerted ; then, rejecting anomalous exceptions,
is proving nothing either one way or the other, and facts too insignificant and
isolated to afi'ect in any way the course of events, the mind, sufficiently elevated,
and observing attentively, and with a sincere desire to know the truth, will be
enabled to discover how far its philosophical deductions are in accordance with
facts; and thus will it complete the solution of the problem.

One of the fundamental principles of Catholicity, one of its distinctive
characteristics, is the submission of the intellect to authority in matters of
faith. This is the point against which the attacks of Protestants have ever
been and still are directed : arid this- is quite natural, seeing that Protestants
profess resistance to authority as a fundamental and constituent principle.
From this fatal source flow all their other errors. If there be in Catholicity
any thing capable of arresting the march of the mind or of lowering its flight,
it must unquestionably be the principle of submission to authority. With this
principle must rest all the blame in this respect, if indeed the Catholic religion
be chargeable with any.

Submission of the intellect to authority. These words, it cannot be denied,
do, unless we have seized upon their true meaning, and ascertained the precise
objects to which this submission is applicable, at first sight, convey an idea of
antagonism to intellectual development. If you cherish an ardent affection for
the dignity of our nature ; if you are an enthusiastic advocate of scientific

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 398

progress, and behold with delight the brilliant efforts of a bold, vigoi jus, and
accomplished genius ; you will discover something repulsive in a principle
which appears to invoke slavery, since it checks the flight of the mind, clips the
wings of the intellect, and casts it into the dust. But if you examine this
principle in its essence, apply it to the various branches of learning, and observe
what are the points of contact which it offers with the methods adopted for
the cultivation of the mind, will you discover any foundation for these suspi
cious and apprehensions ? What truth will you find in the reproaches of which.
Catholicity has been made the object ? How vain and puerile will appear all
the declamation published on this subject!

We will now enter fully into the examination of this difficulty ; we will take
the Catholic principle, and analyze it with the eye of impartial philosophy.
With this principle before us, we will survey the whole field of science, and
consult the testimony of the greatest men. If we find that it has ever been
opposed to the genuine development of any one branch of learning; if, on visit
ing the tombs where repose the most illustrious, they tell us that the principle
of submission to authority chained down their intellects, obscured their imagi
nations, and withered their hearts, — we will then acknowledge that Protestants
are right in the reproaches which they are constantly directing against thf
Catholic religion on this subject. God, man, society, nature, the entire crea
tion — such arc the objects on which our minds can be occupied; beyond the
sphere of these objects we cannot reach, for they embrace infinity — there is
nothing beyond them. Well, then, the Catholic principle opposes no obstacle
to the mind's progress. Whether as regards God or man, society or nature, it
imposes no shackles, plaoes no obstacle in the way of the human mind ; instead
of checking this progress, it rather serves as a lofty beacon, which, far from
interfering with the mariner's liberty, guides him in safety amid the obscurity
of night.

How does the Catholic principle oppose the freedom of the human mind in
anything relating to the Divinity ? Protestants surely will not tell us that
there is anything at all wrong in the idea which the Catholic religion gives of
G-od. Agreeing with us on the idea of a being eternal, immutable, infinite,
the Creator of heaven and earth, just, holy, full of goodness, a re warder of the
good, and a punisher of the wicked, they admit this to be the only reasonable
idea of G-od that can be presented to the mind of man. To this idea the
Catholic religion unites an incomprehensible, profound, and ineffable mystery,
veiled from tne sight of weak mortals, — the august mystery of the Trinity ; but
on this point Protestants cannot reproach us, unless they are prepared to avow
themselves Socinians. The Lutherans, the Calvinists, the Anglicans, and many
other sects, condemn, as well as we do, those who deny this august mystery.
We may remark nere, that Calvin had Michael Servetus burned at Geneva foi
his heretical doctrines on the Trinity. I am well aware of the ravages thai
Socinianism has made among the separated Churches, where the spirit and the
right of private judgment m matters of faith have converted Christians into
unbelieving philosophers; but, notwithstanding this, the mystery of the Trinity
was long respected by the leading Protestant sects, and is so yet, externally at
least, by the greater part of them.

In any case, I cannot see how this mystery shackles human reason in its
contemplation of the Divinity. Does it pre/ent it from going forth into immen
sity ? What limit does it fix to the infinite ocean of light and being implied
in the word God? Does it in the' least obscure this splendor? When the
mind of man, soaring above the regions of creauon, and detaching itself from
the body that would bear it down, ab^iHons itseli to ibe delights of sublime
meditation on the infinite Being, Create of heaven and taith, does this augusi
mystery stop \IK in his heavenward fii^-'u? Ask tiie in au»3erable volumes
50 '

894 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

written on the Divinity, eloquent and irrefragable testimonies of liberty enjoyed
by the human mind wlierever Catholicity prevails. The doctrines of Catho
licity relative to the Divinity may be considered under two aspect** ; either as
having reference to mysteries above our comprehension, or as touching what is
within the reach of reason. As regards mysteries, their abode is in a region
so sublime, they appertain to an order of things so superior to any created
thought, that the mind, even after the most extensive, most profound, and, at
the same time, most free investigations, is unable, without the aid of revelation,
to form even the most remote idea of these ineffable wonders. How can things
that never meet, which are of a totally distinct order, and which are an immense
distance apart, interfere with each other ? The intellect can fix upon one of
them by means of meditation, can lose itself in contemplating it, without even
thinking of the other. Can the moon's orbit come into contact with the
remotest of the fixed stars ?

Do you fear that the revelation of a mystery may limit the sphere of your
reason's operations ? Are you apprehensive lest, in wandering through immen
sity, you may be smothered in the narrowness of your reason ? Was space
wanted for the genius of Descartes, of G-assendi, of Mallebranche ? Did these
men complain that their intellects were limited, imprisoned ? Why, indeed,
should they complain (I speak not of them only, but of all the great minds of
modern times who have treated of the Divinity), when they cannot but own
that they are indebted to Catholicity for the most splendid and sublime ideas
that enrich their writings ? The philosophers of antiquity, in their treatises
on the Divinity, are at an immense distance below the least eminent of our
metaphysical theologians. What would Plato himself be compared to Lewis
of Granada, Louis de Leon, Feuelon, or Bossuet ? Before Christianity appeared
upon earth, before the faith of the Chair of Peter had taken possession of the
world, the primitive ideas on the Divinity having been effaced, the human mind
wandered amongst a thousand errors, a thousand monstrous fancies ; feeling
the necessity of a God, man substituted for the Supreme Being the creation of
his own imagination. But ever since the ineffable splendor, descending from
the bosom of the Father of light, has shone upon the whole earth, ideas of the
Divinity have remained so fixed, clear, and simple, and at the same time so
lofty and sublime, that human reason has obtained a wider range ; the veil
which concealed the origin of the universe has been withdrawn ; the world's
destiny has been marked out, and man has received the key that explains the
wonders which fill and surround him. Protestants have felt the force of this
truth; their aversion for every thing Catholic was almost fanatical; yet, gener
ally speaking, they may be said to have 'respected the idea of the Divinity. On
this point, of all others, the spirit of innovation has been felt the least. How,
indeed, could it be otherwise ? The God of the Catholics was too great to be
replaced by any other. Newton and Leibnitz, embracing heaven and earth in
their speculations, could say nothing new of the Author of so many wonders,
nothing but what had already been taught by the Catholic religion.

Well had it been for Protestants if, whilst in the midst of their wanderings
they preserved this precious treasure, they had faithfully followed the example
of their predecessors, and had rejected that monstrous philosophy which
threatens us with the revival of all errors, ancient and modern, beginning with
t.he substitution of a monstrous pantheism for the sublime Deity of Chris
tianity. Let those Protestants who are friends of truth, jealous of the honor
of their communion, devoted to their country's welfare, and interested in the
future prospects of mankind, be warned in time. If pantheism should prevailj
it will not be the spiritualist but the naturalist philosophers who will triumph,
The German philosophers may in vain seek refuge in abstraction and enigmas
to vain condemn the sensualist philosophy of tk e last century ; a God con

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 891

founded with nature is not God, a God identified with every thing is nothing,
pantheism is a deification of the universe, that is a denial of God.

What sorrowful reflections suggest themselves to us when we consider the
direction now taken by the minds of men in different parts of Europe, and more
especially in G-ermany ! Catholics long since told them they would begin with
resistance to authority by denying a dogma, but would end by a denial of all,
and fall into atheism ; and the course of ideas during the last three centuries
,as fully confirmed the truth of the prediction. Strange, that German philo
sophy should aim at producing a reaction against the materialist school, and
with all its spiritualism end in pantheism ! Providence, it would seem, has
ordained that the soil which has produced so many errors should be barren of
truth. Out of the Church all is unsteadiness and confusion ; materialism end
ing in atheism, wild idealism and fantastic spiritualism resulting in pantheism !
Verily, God still abhors pride, and repeats the terrible chastisement of the con
fusion of tongues. Catholicity triumphs the while ; but mourns in the midst
of her triumphs. I do not see either how it can be that Catholicity impedes
the operation of the intellect as regards the study of man. What does the
Church require of us on this point? What does she teach on the subject?
How far extends the circle embracing the doctrines we are forbidden to call in
question '/

Philosophers are divided into two schools, the materialists and the spir
itualists. The former assert that the human soul is only a portion of matter,
which, by a certain modification, produces in us what we call thought and will ;
the latter maintains that the energy accompanying thought and will is incom
patible with the inertness of matter; that what is divisible, composed of divers
parts, and consequently of divers entities, could not harmonize with the simple
unity essential to a being that thinks, wills, reasons, with itself upon every
thing, and possesses the profound consciousness of individuality. For these
reasons they assert that the contrary opinion is false and absurd; and they
ground their opinion upon a variety of considerations. The Catholic Church
intervenes in the dispute, and says : " The soul of man is not corporeal, it is a
spirit; you cannot be both a Catholic and a materialist." But ask the Catholic
Church by what systems you are to explain the ideas, the sensations, the acts
of the will, and human feelings, — and she will tell you that on these matters
you are perfectly free to hold what you consider most in accordance with rea
son ; that faith does not descend to particular questions appertaining to the
affairs of this world, which God himself delivered to the consideration of men.
Before the light of the Gospel shone upon the world, the schools of philosophy
were in the most profound ignorance on the subject of our origin and our des
tiny; none of the philosophers could explain the profound contradictions that
are found in man ; none of them succeeded in pointing out the caua^ of that
strange mixture of greatness and littleness, of goodness and malice, of knowl
edge and ignorance, of excellence and baseness. But religion came forth, and
said : " Man is the work of God ; his destiny is to be for evermore united with
God ; for him the* earth is a place of exile only ; man is no longer what he was
whei he came forth from the hands of his Creator; the whole human race is
subjest-^d to the consequences of a great fall." Now I would defy all philo
sophers, ancient and modern, to show wherein the obligation of believing these
things militates in the slightest degree against the progress of true philosophy.

So far, indeed, are the doctrines of Catholicity from checking philosophical
progress, that they are, on the contrary, a most fruitful source of this progress
in every respect. If we wish to make progress in any of the sciences, it is no
slight advantage for the intellect to have a safe and firm axis around which it
may rjvolve; it is a fortunate thing to be enabled to avoid at the very outset
vn the intellectual race, a multitude of questions which would entangle us i*»

396 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

inextricable labyrinths, or from which we could not escape without falling into
most lamentable absurdities ; in a word, when we approach the investigation
of these questions, we ought to consider ourselves happy in finding them
resolved beforehand in their most important points, and in knowing where the
truth lies, and where the danger of falling^iuto error. The philosopher's posi
tion is then that of a man who, sure of the existence of a mine in a certain
spot, does not waste his time in -searching after it, but, knowing his» ground,
all his researches and labors are profitable from the first. This is the cause of
the vast advantage which in these matters modern philosophers possess over
those of antiquity : thp ancients had to .grope in the dark ; the moderns, pre
ceded by brilliant lights, advance with a firm and sure step, and march straight
to their destination. They may boast incessantly that they set aside revelation,
that they hold it in disdain, perhaps that they even openly attack it. Even in
this case religion enlightens them, and often guides their steps ; for there a
a thousand splendid ideas for which they are indebted to religion, and which
they cannot erase from their minds ; ideas which they have found in books,
learned in catechisms, and imbibed with their milk; ideas which they hear
uttered by every one around them, which are spread everywhere, and which
impregnate with their vivifying and beneficent influence the atmosphere they
breathe. In repudiating religion, these same moderns are carrying ingratitude
to great lengths \ for at the very moment they insult her, they are profiting by
her favors.

This is not the place to enter into details on this matter, or numerous proofs
might easily be adduced in support of the foregoing observations ; a comparison
between the first works of modern philosophy that came to hand and the works
of the ancients would be decisive ; but such a labor would still be incomplete
for those who are not versed in these matters ; and for those who are so, it
would be superfluous. I leave the question with entire confidence to the per
spicacity and impartiality of my readers ; it will, I think, be acknowledged that
whenever our modern philosophers have spoken of man with truth and dignity,
their language has borne the impress of Christian ideas. Such is the influence
of Catholicity upon those sciences which, confined to a purely speculative order,
allow the genius of the philosopher the widest range and the greatest freedom
possible ; but if, as regards those sciences, the influence of Catholicity, instead
of checking the mind in its flight, only enlarges its range, increases its sub
limity, its daring, and at the same time its security, by preventing it from
running astray, what shall we say of its influence on the study of ethics ? Has
the whole body of philosophers together ever discovered any thing beyond what
is contained in the Gospel ? What doctrine excels in purity, in sanctity, in
sublimity that taught by the Catholic religion ? On this point we will do jus
tice to the philosophers, even to those most hostile to the Christian religion.
They have attacked its doctrines, and smiled at the divinity of its origin ; but
have always evinced a profound respect for its morality. I know not what
secret influence has constrained them into an avowal that must certainly have
cost them dear. "Yes," they invariably say, "it cannot be denied that the
morality of Catholicity is excellent."

There are certain doctrines of Catholicity whicn cannot be said to appertain
directly either to God, to man, or to morality, in the sense generally given to
this word. The Catholic religion is a revealed religion, of an order far supe
rior to any thing that the human mind is capable of conceiving. Its object is
to guide us to a destiny that we could neither attain nor even imagine by our
own strength, and it is based upon this principle, that human nature, corrupted
Dy the fall, requires to be restored and purified ; evidently, therefore, it should
contain certain doctrines explanatory of the mode in which this work of resto
ration and purification is to be effected, whether in a general or particulai

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 897

sense; and at the same time pointing out the means which God has chosen to
lead man to happiness. Such are the doctrines of the Incarnation., of Redemp
tion, of Grace, and of the Sacraments.

These dogmas embrace a wide field; the relations in which they stand to
God and to man are very extensive ; the doctrines of the Catholic Church are,
and always have been, unchangeable. Well then ! extensive as they are, they
afford net a single point that can be said to have a tendency to embarrass the
free action of the intellect in investigations of any kind. The cause of this fact
is the same as that I have already indicated. Those who have attentively com
pared the sciences of philosophy and theology may have remarked that theology
in the sublime questions mentioned above, occupies a sphere so distinct and
supereminent as scarcely to preserve a single point of contact with that in which
philosophy moves. They are two vast and sublime orbits, occupying in the
depths of space positions very distant from each other. Man sometimes tries
to make them approximate, and would be glad if a ray of terrestrial light could
penetrate into the region of incomprehensible mysteries ; but he scarcely knows
how to begin this, and we hear him avow, with a profound sense of his own
weakness, that he is speaking only conventionally and by analogy, merely with
a view to make himself better understood. The Church allows such attempts,
owing to the good intentions they evince ; sometimes she even prompts and
encourages them, desiring, as far as possible, to accommodate what is incom.
prehensible in her doctrines to the feeble capacities of men.

After all their reasonings on the attributes of the Divinity and the relations
of man to God, have philosophers discovered any thing incompatible with
these doctrines of Catholicity ? Have revealed truths stood in their way as a
stumbling-block to their investigations ? When Descartes, in the seventeenth
century, effected a revolution in philosophy, a singular incident occurred that
will throw a strong light on this subject. The Catholic doctrine respecting the
august mystery of the Eucharist is known, and also in what the dogma of
transubstantiation consists. Many theologians, the reader is also probably
aware, in order to explain the supernatural phenomenon which takes place
after the consummation of the miracle, had recourse to the doctrine of acci
dents, which they distinguished from the substance. Now the theory of Des
cartes, and of almost all other modern philosophers, was incompatible with thif*
explanation, for they denied the existence of accidents distinct from the sub
stance. It consequently appeared at first sight that a difficulty would here
arise for the Catholic doctrine, and that the Church would have to oppose this
system of philosophy. And did it so happen ? Not at all. Upon a careful
investigation of the matter, it was seen that the Catholic dogma belonged to a
region infinitely above that uncertain one in which the philosophic doctrine
was discovered, however closely they might have seemed to approximate. In
vain theologians discussed the matter, indulged in mutual recriminations, drew
from the new doctrine all sorts of inferences, in order to represent it as dan
gerous. The Church, always superior to the thoughts of men, kept aloof from
these disputes, maintaining that grave, majestic, and impassive attitude so well
becoming her to whom Jesus Christ confided the sacred deposit of His doctrine.
Such is the liberty accorded by the Church to the genius of philosophers, that
it is free in every sense. The Church has no need to be continually imposing
re si rictions and conditions ; the sacred doctrines of which she is the depository
dwelling in so elevated a region that the mind of man can scarcely ever meet
them, at least so long as his investigations do not wander frod the track of
true philosophy.

But this human reason, at once so powerful and so feeble, sometimes be
comes puffed up with arrogance and pride, and in the name of liberty and in
dependence claims a right to blaspheme the Almighty, to deny man's free will

398 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the immortality and spirituality of his soul, her sublime origin and her heavenly
destiny. At such a time we avow, and we glory in the avowal, the Church
does raise her voice, not to oppress or tyrannize over the human mind, but to
defend the rights of the Supreme Being and the dignity of human nature ;
then, indeed, we behold her opposing, with unyielding firmness, that senseless
liberty which consists in the fatal right of uttering all sorts of extravagances.
This liberty Catholics neither possess nor desire, knowing that in thesq matters,
as in others, there is a sacred line of demarcation between liberty and licen-
jiousness. Happy slavery, that keeps us from atheism, materialism, and from
doubting whether our souls come from God, whether they tend towards Him,
and whether there exists for unhappy mortals, after the sufferings that weigh
upon them in this life, a life of eternal happiness purchased by the merits of a
God-man ! As for the sciences which have society for their object, I think I
need not vindicate the Catholic religion from the reproach of having in this
respect oppressed the human mind. The long train of reflections in which [
have set forth her doctrines and her influence, as regards the nature and extent
of power, and the civil and political liberty of nations, proves to a demonstra
tion that the Catholic religion, without descending to the arena in which the
passions of men strive and contend, teaches a doctrine most favorable to true
civilization and to the rightly-understood liberties of the people.

I will also touch briefly upon the relations of the Catholic principle with the
study of the natural sciences. Assuredly it is not easy to see in what way
this principle can be injurious to the progress of the human mind in this de
partment of knowledge. I have said, it is not easy ; I might have said impos
sible, and that for a very simple reason, founded upon a fact within the reach
of every man ; viz. the extreme reserve which the Catholic religion evinces in
every thing relating to purely natural science. One might suppose that God
had designed, on this matter, to read us a severe lesson on our excessive curi
osity : you have only to read the Bible to be convinced of the truth of what I
have advanced. I do not mean that nature is never noticed in the Bible ; that
divine book presents her to us in her grandest, noblest, and most sublime as
pect ; as a living whole, in fact, together with all her relations and her sub
lime destiny, but without any kind of analysis or decomposition. In these
sacred pages the painter's pencil and the poet's fancy will meet with magni
ficent models ; but the inquisitive philosopher will look in vain for the hints
he is in quest of. The Holy Spirit did not aim at making naturalists, but
virtuous men ; hence, in describing the creation, He represents it solely in a
light the best adapted to excite in us feelings of admiration and gratitude to
wards the Author of so many wonders and benefits. Nature, as she appears in
the sacred text, has not much to gratify the curiosity of the philosopher \ but
then she delights and ennobles the imagination — she moves and penetrates the
heart.

CHAPTER LXX.

HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OP INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT.

FROM the rapid view we have taken of the several branches of learning in
their relations to the authority of the Church, it is clear to a demonstration,
that the alleged enslavement of the intellect amongst Catholics is nothing but
a mere bugbear : in no respect does our faith either arrest 01 retard the progress
of learning. Since, however, it not unfrequently happens that, in arguments
apparently the most solid, a flaw is discovered when they are brought to the
test of facts, it will be well to corroborate our assertion by historical testimony ;

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WiTH CATHOLICITY. 390

fully assured as we are, that the result must be favorable to the ?ause of
trath. We will begin at the beginning.

M. Gruizot maintains that the contest between the Church and the advocatei
of the freedom of thought originated in the middle ages. Noticing the efforts
of John Erigena, Roscelin, Abelard, and the alarm they excited in the Church,
he observes : " This was the great event that occurred at the end of the eleventh,
and at the beginning of the twelfth centuries, at a time when the Church was
under theocratic and monastic influence. Lt was then that, for the first time,
a serious struggle was commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers/'
(Hisf Generate de la Civilisation en Europe. Le$on 6.) The entire scope of
M. Guizot's work shows that, in his judgment, the best-founded ftproaeh that
could be cast upon the Catholic Church was, that she checked the freedom of
thought. According to him, this is the point upon which the advantage of the
Protestant system over Catholicity is the least controvertible. His object being
the complete development of this idea, in treating of the religious revolution
of the sixteenth century it was requisite for him to deposit it as a seed in his
preliminary lectures j as otherwise the fact of the Reformation would have ap
peared isolated, and shorn of its importance. Besides, it was necessary that the
resistance of Protestants to the Catholic Church should have a meaning j that
it should carry with it the appearance of a noble and generous thought ; that
it should be regarded as the proclamation of the freedom of the human mind.
To attain this end, the Church, on the one hand, must be represented as assert
ing claims in the middle ages to which she had not previously pretended ; and,
on the other, those writers who resisted these alleged pretensions of the Church
must be held up as men of extraordinary penetration.

Now, such 'is precisely the thread of M. Guizot's discourse; and we hence
infer his efforts to prepare beforehand the triumph of his opinions. His plan,
however, is ill-concerted ; for he appears to have overlooked the most palpablt
facts in the history of the Church ; and not even to have known what were the
doctrines of the three champions, whose names he invokes with so much com
placency. That no one may accuse me of making inconsiderate assertions, 1
will here quote his words literally : " Thus every thing," says he, " seemed
turning to the advantage of the Church, of her unity, and of her power. But
whilst the Papacy was grasping at the government of the world, whilst the
monasteries were undergoing a moral reformation, a few powerful but isolated
individuals claimed for human reason the right of being something in man, the
right to interfere in the formation of his opinions. Most of them refrained
from attacking received opinions, or religious belief ; they merely said that
reason had a right to prove them ; and that it was not enough that they were
af Armed by authority. John Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard were the inter
preters, through whom individual reason began to lay claim to her inheritance
— the first authors of that movement of liberty, which was associated with the
reform movement of Hildebrand and St. Bernard If we seek the dominant
feature of this movement, we shall find that it was not a change of opinion, a
revolt against the system of public belief ; it was simply the right of reason -
ing claimed for reason." (Hist. Generate de la Civilisation en Europe.
Leyon 6.)

We will pass over the author's singular parallel between the efforts of John
Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard, and those of the great reformers, Hildebrand
or St. Gregory VII., and St. Bernard. These latter sought to reform the
Church by legitimate means, to render the clergy more venerable by making
them more virtuous, and to win greater respect for authority by sanctifying
the persons entrusted with its exercise : the others, according to M. Guizot,
resisted this authority in matters of faith \ that is, they aimed at its over
throw, and for this purpose laid the axe to the roct ; the former were reformers

*00 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

the latter devastators : and yet we are told that their efforts were directed U
one and the same object, had one and the same tendency. Verily, the philo
sophy of history were a sorry thing, if it could allow of such a confusion of
ideas ! What progress can be made in this branch of knowledge, Ij men who
have so strange a way of dealing with facts ? But, I repeat, let us take leave
of these aberrations, and fix our attention specially on two points : the worth
of these three writers, so much vaunted, and the idea we are told to entertain
of their resistance to authority. Doubtless the najnes of John Erigena and
Roscelin are already pronounced with respect by those persons who would fain
be thought well versed in the philosophy of history, without having ever read
history, and who are obliged to content themselves with those easy lessons that
are learned in an hour, and studied in an evening. With persons of this de
scription, it is enough to have heard these names pronounced with emphasis, to
have seen them coupled with epithets, such as powerful men, advocates of
human reason, interpreters of individual reason, to make them fancy that learn
ing is no less indebted to Erigena and Roscelin than to Descartes or Bacon.

Without bearing in mind the remarks I have already made on the pecu
liarity of M. Guizot's position, it would not be easy to conjecture why he
should seek to represent as new and extraordinary, what was, in fact, neither
new nor -incommon ; how he could say that the Church first began the contest
against liberty of thought, when she put down Erigena, Roscelin, and Abelard.
He brings forward these three writers, as though their influence had been para
mount; whereas they had no more influence than other sectarians, who abounded
in preceding centuries. Who and what really was this John Erigena ? A
writer but imperfectly versed in theological science ; but who, puffed up by the
favor shown him by Charles the Bold, broached certain errors on the subject
of the Eucharist, predestination and grace. In all that, I see only a man
departing from the doctrine of the Church ; and in Nicholas the First attempt-
ing to stop him in his career, I see only a Pope fulfilling his duty. What is
there in all this either new or extraordinary ? Does not the whole history of
the Church, from the time of the Apostles, exhibit an unbroken succession of
similar facts ?

I repeat, it is impossible to conceive for what purpose the name of Erigena
is brought forward. His errors produced no result of importance ; and the age
in which he lived cannot be considered as having exercised any great influence
on the intellectual development of subsequent times. He lived in the ninth
century. Now, this century had no share in the movement of those that fol
lowed ; indeed, it is well known that the tenth century was the darkest period
of ignorance during the middle ages ; and that the intellectual movement com
menced only at the close of the tenth, and at the opening of the eleventh
century. Erigena and Roscelin are separated by two centuries. As for Ros
celin and Abelard, it is easier to understand why their names are cited. Every
one knows the noise that Abelard made in the world by his doctrines, and
perhaps still more by his adventures. Roscelin may also command attention
by his errors, and especially as the master of Abelard.

To give an idea of the spirit that guided these men, and of the opinion we
are to form of their intentions, we must enter into some details touching their
lives and their doctrines. Roscelin was one of the most crafty men of his time.
A subtle dialectician and warm partizan of the sect of the Nominalists, he sub
stituted his own opinions for the teaching of the Church ; and ended by falling
into the gravest errors on the sacred mystery of the Trinity. History has
recorded a fact, that proves incontestably the notorious dishonesty of the man—
his want of probity and of modesty At the time that Roscelin was propagating
his errors, St. Anselm, who v < afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, was
jving, but at thai time abbot »• Tk ck. Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 401

who died some time before, had left behind him the highest reputation for virtue
and sound doctrine. Roscelin thought that the authority of so high a name
would give currency and consideration to his errors; and, resorting to the
foulest calumny, he affirmed that his opinions were the same as those of Arch
bishop Lanfranc, and Anselm, abbot of Beck. To this calumny Lanfranc could
not reply, as he was already in the tomb ; but the abbot of Beck vigorously
repelled so unjust an imputation; and at the same time vindicated the reputa
tion of Lanfranc, who had been his master. The works of St. Anselm leave
no doubt as to the nature of Roscelin's errors. We find them recorded with
the greatest precision. In fact, it were difficult to say why M. Guizot has
conferred so much importance upon this man, or why he should be adduced as
one of the principal champions of the freedom of thought. There is nothing
in Roscelin to distinguish him from other heretics. He is a man who employs
artifices and subtleties, and falls into error ; but nothing is more common in the
history of the Church ; and it certainly cannot be considered matter of aston
ishment.

Abelard is more deserving of notice : his name has become so famous that no
one is unacquainted with his sad adventures. A disciple of Roscelin, and as
well skilled as his master in the dialectics of the age, endowed with great
talents, and eager to parade them on the principal theatres of literature, Abe-
lard earned a reputation never attained by the dialectician of Compiegne. Hii
errors on points of very great importance produced much mischief in the Church,
and drew upon himself many sorrows. But it is not true, as M. Guizot will
have it, that his doctrines met with less reproof than his method ; neither is it
true that he and his master Roscelin had no intention of effecting a radical
change in matters of doctrine. Evidence of a most unexceptionable kind for
tunately places the matter beyond all doubt, and proves that it was not Ros
celin's method, but his error on the Trinity, for which he was condemned. Nor
have we less certainty in the case of Abelard ; for the various errors taken from
his works are preserved in the form of articles.

We learn from St. Bernard, that on the Trinity, Abelard held the opinions
of Arius — on the Incarnation, those of Nestorius — on grace, those of Pelagius.
All this did not merely tend to a radical change of doctrine, but actually was
one. I do not know that Abelard ever protested against the truth of the&c
accusations; and even if he had, we all know how to estimate such a protest
It is certain that, in the famous Assembly of Sens — convoked at the request
of Abelard himself — he had not a word to say in reply to the sainted abbot of
Clairvaux, who reproached him with his errors ; and laying before him the very
words of his propositions, extracted from his writings, urged him either to
defend or abjure them. Abelard, confronted with so formidable an adversary,
was so embarrassed that he could only say, in reply, that he appealed to Rome.
The Council of Sens, out of respect for the Holy See, abstained from condemn
ing the person of the innovator, but did not fail te condemn his errors ; and
this condemnation was approved by the Sovereign Pontiff, and extended to hia
person also. Now', from the articles containing the errors of Abelard, it does
not appear that his dominant idea was to proclaim the liberty of thought, fife
has, it is true, an overweening confidence in his own subtleties; but, beyond
this, his only fault is an erroneous and dogmatizing spirit on points of" the
greatest importance; a fault which he had in common with all the heretics who
preceded him.

All this M. Gruizot ought to have known ; how he can have overlooked it I

cannot imagine, nor why he attaches to these authors an importance which they

really do not deserve. Perhaps he was anxious to furnish Protestants with some

illustrious predecessors, when he laid such stress on the names of Roscelin and

» Abelard. These two, afta- all, were not deficient in ability or in erudition,

61 2? 2

402 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

and they lived precisely during the early period of the intellectual movement
Probably M. Guizot thought, that to bring these two innovators upon the scene
would answer his purpose extremely well, as showing that, from the very dawn
of intellectual development, men of the greatest fame had raised thair voices in
favor of freedom of thought. After all, had M. Guizot succeeded in proving
that John Erigena, Iloscelin, and Abelard aimed at nothing more than the
assertion of the right of private examination in matters of faith, it wo'ild not
follow that these innovators had not sought to effect a radical change in mat
ters of doctrine. In fact, what can be more radical as regards matters of faith
than that which strikes at authority, the root of all certainty ? Neither would
it follow, that in condemning the errors of these men the Church had taken
alarm merely at their method; for if this method was to consist in withdrawing
the intellect from the yoke of authority, even in matters of faith, it was itself a
very grievous error, combated at all times by the Catholic Church, which never
would consent to have her authority called in question on points of faith.

And yet, if these innovators had entered into the contest chiefly for the pur
pose of contending against authority in matters of faith, M. Guizot would have
had some reason to notice their proceedings as constituting a new era ; but,
strange to say, their propositions do not appear to have been drawn up with a
view to advocate the independence of thought, nor against authority in matters
of faith ; it was not for such an attempt, but for other errors, that the Church
condemned them. Where, then, are the accuracy and historical truth which
we should expect from such a man as M. Guizot? How could he venture, in
addressing a numerous audience, thus to substitute his own thoughts for facts ?
The fact is, he well knew that these were matters generally treated very super
ficially ; that to gain the sympathy of superficial men it would suffice to speak
in pompous terms of the liberty of thought, to pronounce certain names pro
bably heard by many for the first time, such as Erigena abd Roscelin, and
especially to mention the unfortunate lover of Heloi'se.

M. Guizot, unable to conceal from himself that his observations upon this
period were somewhat feeble, tries to apply a remedy by inserting a passage
from the Introduction to the Theology of Abelard, which, in my opinion, is very
far from answering the purpose of the publicist. His object, in fact, is to show
that from that very period a vigorous spirit of resistance to the authority of the
Church in matters of faith had sprung up, and that the human mind was even
then longing to burst asunder the fetters in which it had been held. He would
have us believe that Abelard, yielding to the importunities of his own disciples,
had the courge to throw off the yoke of authority; and that his writings were,
to a certain extent, the expression of a necessity long felt, of an idea with
which many minds had long been agitated. The following is the passage
referred to : " If we seek the dominant feature of this movement, we shall
find that it was not a change of opinion, a revolt against the system of public
belief ; it was simply the right of reasoning claimed for reason/'

We have already seen how utterly devoid of truth is this assertion of the
publicist. The very attack upon authority was itself a radical change in opin
ions, and a revolution in received doctrines; for the authority of the Church
was in itself a dogma, and formed the basis of all religious belief, as experience
has satisfactorily shown, since the appearance of Protestantism at the commence
ment of the sixteenth century. But let us allow the historian to proceed :
„" The disciples of Abelard, as he himself tells us in his Introduction to Theo-
loyy, required of him philosophical arguments, and such as would satisfy reason,
requesting him to teach them not merely to repeat his instructions, but to un
derstand them also ; for no one can believe what he does not understand, and
it is ridiculous to preach to others things that neither the teacher nor his pupilf
understand. * What object can the study of philosophy have but that of ,

PROTESTANTISM OOMPAEED WITH CATHOLICITY. 408

Leading the Diind tc the contemplation of God, to whom all things are to be
referred ? Why are the faithful allowed to read works treating of worldly
affairs and the books of the Gentiles, except to prepare them to understand the
sacred Scriptures, and to 'furnish them with the skill necessary for their de
fence i For this purpose alone we should avail ourselves of all our

reasoning powers, lest, on questions so difficult and complicated as those that
form the object of Christian faith, the subtilty of our opponents should too
readily injure the purity of our faith/ "

It cannot be denied, that in Abelard's time a lively curiosity aroused men's
minds to employ all their powers to be able to give a reason for what they be
lieved j but it is not true that the Church threw any obstacle in the way of
this movement, considering it as a scientific method, and so long as it did not
. overstep legitimate bounds, and attack or undermine the articles of faith. It
is impossible to take a more unfavorable view of the Church than M. Guizot
has here taken of her; nor could any one more completely overlook, I will
even say distort, facts.

" The importance of this first attempt at liberty," says he, " of this revival
of the spirit of inquiry, was soon felt. The Church, though engaged in effect
ing her own reform, took the alarm nevertheless, and at once declared war
against the reformers, whose new methods menaced her with more evils than
their doctrines."

Thus is the Church represented as conspiring against the progress of thought,
repressing with a strong arm the first attempts of the mind to advance in the
path of science, and laying aside questions of doctrine to contend against
methods ; and all this, we are told, as if it were something new and wonderful.
" For," says M. Guizot, " this was the great event which occurred at the end
of the eleventh and beginning of the twelfth centuries, at a time when the
Church was under theocratic and monastic influence. It was now that, for the
first time, a serious struggle commenced between the clergy and the freethinkers.
The quarrels of Abelard and St. Bernard, the Councils of Soissons and Sens,
in which Abelard was condemned, merely give expression to this event, \\hich
has occupied so large a space in the history of modern civilization."

Still the same confusion of ideas. I have said already, and must repeat here
that the Church has condemned no method ; it was not a method, but error, that
the Church condemned, unless by a method be meant an assault upon the
articles of faith, under pretence of breaking the fetters of authority, which is

new pretensions ; her conduct has always been the same ever since the time of
the Apostles, and is the same still. The moment a doctrine is propagated that
appears in the least degree dangerous, the Church examines it, compares it with
the sacred depor.it of truth confided to her ; if the doctrine is not inconsistent
with divine truth, she allows it free circulation, for she is not ignorant that
God has given tip the world to the controversies of men ; but if it is opposed to
the faith, its condemnation is irremissible, without concern or regret. Were
the Church to act otherwise, she would contradict herself, and cease to be what
she is, the jealous depository of divine truth. If she allowed her infallible
authority to be questioned, that moment she would forget one of her most
sacred obligations, and would lose all claim on our belief; for, in betraying an
indifference for truth, she would prove herself to be no longer a religion de
scended from heaven, but a mere delusion.

Precisely at the time of which M. Guizot speaks, we observe a fact which
proves that the Church allows free scope to the exercise of thought. The high
reputation which St. Anselm sustained during his whole career, and the great

404 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICIT1 .

esteem in which he was held by the Sovereign Pontiffs of his time, are well
known ; yet St. Anselm philosophised with great freedom. In the introductioc
to his Monologue, he tells us that some persons entreated him to explain thing?
by reason alone, without the aid of the sacred Scriptures. The Saint was not
afraid to comply with their request, and he accordingly wrote the little work
we have just named. In other parts of his works, too, St. Anselm adopts the
same method. Very few persons concern themselves now-a-days about ancient
writers, and doubtless very few have read the works of the holy Doctor of
whom we are speaking. They display, however, such perspicuity of thought,
such solid reasoning, and above all such a discreet and temperate judgment,
that we are surprised to find the human mind, at the very commencement of
the intellectual movement, attaining to so high an elevation. In him we find
the greatest freedom of thought combined with the respect due to the authoritv
of the Church ; and far from impairing the vigor of his ideas, this respect
augments their force and perspicuity. From his works we learn that Abelard
was not the only one who taught, not merely to repeat his lectures, but also to
understand them; for St. Anselm, some years previous, followed the same
method with a clearness and solidity far beyond what could be expected at that
time. We there discover, also, that in the bosom of the Catholic Church men
carried the operations of reason to the greatest possible extent, though always
within the bounds prescribed by its own weakness, and with reverential regard
to the sacred veil that shrouds august mysteries.

The works of St. Auselm prove that Abelard was not exactly the man to
teach the world that the end of philosophical studies is to lead the mind to the
contemplation of Grod, to whom all things should be referred ; and that we
should avail ourselves of all our reasoning powers, lest on questions so difficult
and complicated as those that form the object of Christian faith, the subtilties
of our opponents should too readily injure the purity of our faith. But from
the Saint's profound submission to the authority of the Church, from the can
dor and ingenuousness with which he acknowledges the limits of the human
mind, we see that he was persuaded that it is not impossible to believe what we,
do not comprehend ; and, in fact, there is a wide difference between the convic
tion that a thing exists, and a clear knowledge of the nature of the thing in
the existence of which we believe.

CHAPTER LXXI.

RELIGION AND THE HUMAN MIND IN EUROPE.

As we are to examine what was, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the
conduct of the Church in reference to innovators, we will avail ourselves of the
excellent opportunity afforded by this epoch for noticing tlie progress of the
human mind. It has been said that in Europe intellectual development was
exclusively theological. This is true, and necessarily so , all the faculties of
man receive their development according to the circumstances that surround
him j and as his health, his temperament, his strength, his color even, and hia
stature depend upon climate, food, mode of life, and other circumstances affect
ing him, so in like manner his moral and intellectual faculties bear the stamp
of the principles which predominate in the family and society of which he
forms a constituent part. Now, in Europe, religion was the predominating
element ; in every thing religion made herself heard and felt ; nowhere was
there a principle of life or action discoverable unconnected with religion. It
was quite natural, therefore, that in Europe all the faculties of man should
navt> their development in a religious sense. A little attention will show ua

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 405

that this was the case not with the intellect only, but likewise with the heart,
with the passions even, and with the whole moral man; just as, in whatever
direction we go in Europe, we meet at every step with some monument of reli
gion ; so whatever faculty we examine in the individual European, we find
upon it the impress of religion.

And the case was the same with families and society as with individuals ;
religion was equally predominant in both. Wherever man has progressed
towards a state of perfection, we observe a similar phenomenon ; and it is an
invariable fact in the history of the human race, that no society ever entered
on the road to civilization, save under the direction and impulse of religious
principles True or false, rational or absurd, wherever man is on the road to
improvement, these principles are found. Some nations, indeed, may well
excite our pity at the monstrous superstitions into which they have fallen ; but
we still must acknowledge, that, under these very superstitions, lay concealed
germs of good that did not fail to produce considerable benefits. The Egyp
tians, Phoenicians, Greeks, and Romans were all extremely superstitious ; yet
the progress they made in civilization and intellectual culture was such, that
their monuments and memorials strike us even yet with admiration. It is easy
to smile at an extravagant observance or a senseless dogma ; but we should
remember that the growth and preservation of certain moral principles cannot
be otherwise secured than under the protecting shade of religious belief. Now,
these principles are most indispensably necessary to prevent individuals from
being monstrously changed, and to maintain the social and family ties unbroken.
Much has been said against the immorality tolerated, permitted, and sometimes
even taught by certain forms of religion ; and certainly nothing is more lament
able than to behold man thus led astray by that which ought to be his best
guide. Let us, however, look for a reality beneath these shadows, which
appear at first so gloomy, and we shall soon discover some rays of light that
may lead us to regard false religions, not indeed with indulgence, but with less
horror than those infamous systems which make matter self-existent, and
pleasure the only divinity.

To preserve the idea of moral good and evil, an idea without meaning except
in the supposition that there exists a divine power, is itself an inestimable
advantage. Now this advantage adheres inseparably to every form of religion,
even to those that make the most absurd and most criminal applications of
the idea of good and evil. Doubtless, the people of antiquity, and those of
our own time who have not received the light of Christianity, have gone most
deplorably astray; but, in the midst of their very wanderings, there always
remains a certain degree of light ; and this light, however dimly it shines,
however faint and feeble its rays, is incomparably better than the thick dark
ness of atheism. Between the nations of antiquity and those of Europe there
is this very remarkable difference, that the former passed from a state of infancy
to a state of civilization; while the latter advanced to this, in passing from that
undefinable state which, in Europe, was the result of the invasion of the bar
barians, of the confused mixture of a young with a decrepit society, of rude
and ferocious nations with others that were civilized, cultivated, or rather
effeminate. Hence, amongst the ancients the imagination was developed before
the intellect, whilst amongst Europeans the intellect came before the imagina
tion. With the former, poetry came first; with the latter, what is termed dia
lectics and metaphysics.

What is the reason of so striking a difference ? When a people are yet in
their infancy, either an infancy properly so called, or having lived long in
ignorance, in a state similar to that of an infant people, we find them rich in
sensations, but very poor in ideas. Nature, with her majesty, her wonders,
and her mysteries, affects such a people the most ; their language is grand,

406 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

picturesque, and highly poetical ; their passions are not refined, but, on th«
other hand, they are very energetic a ad violent. Now an intellect that inge
nuously seeks the light, loves truth in its purity and simplicity, confesses and
embraces it readily, lending itself neither to subtilties, artifices, nor disputes.
The least thing that makes a vivid impression upon the senses or the imagina
tion of such a people fills them with surprise and wonder ; you cannot inspire
them with enthusiasm without setting before them something heroic and sublime.

On the first glance at the state of the people of Europe in the Middle ages,
we perceive in them a certain resemblance to an infant people, but, at the same
time, a very striking difference on several points. Their passions are very
strong, they are pleased beyond every thing with the wonderful and the extra
ordinary, and, for want of realities, their imagination conjures up gigantic
phantoms. The profession of arms is their favorite occupation ; they rush
eagerly into the most perilous adventures, and meet them with incredible
courage. All this indicates a development of the feelings of sensibility and
imagination, inasmuch as they produce intrepidity and valor; but, strange to
say, together with these dispositions, we find a singular taste for things the
most purely intellectual ; with the most lively, ardent, and picturesque reality,
we find associated a taste for the coldest and barest abstractions. A knight,
with the cross on his shoulder, gorgeously clad, covered with trophies, beaming
with glory won in a hundred combats; a subtile dialectician, disputing on the
system of the Nominalists, and urging his subtilely devised abstractions till he
becomes unintelligible; — these are certainly two characters very dissimilar,
and yet they exist together in the same society; both have their prestige,
receive the greatest homage, and are followed by enthusiastic admirers. Even
when we have taken into account the singular position of the European nations
at that period, it is not easy to assign a cause for this anomaly We can easily
understand how the people of Europe, emerging, for the most part, from the
forests of the North, and engaged for a long time either in intestine wars or in
conflicts with vanquished tribes, should have preserved, together with their
warlike habits, a strong and lively imagination and violent passions ; but it is
not so easy to account for their taste for an order of ideas purely metaphysical
and dialectical. When, however, we come to look deeply into the matter, we
discover that this apparent anomaly had its origin in the very nature of things.
How is it that a people in their infancy have so much imagination and sensi
bility ? Because the objects by which these faculties are naturally excited
abound around them ; because individuals, being continually exposed to the
influence of external things, these objects operate upon them more forcibly.
Man first feels and imagines ; later he understands and reflects : this is the
natural order in which his faculties begin to operate. Hence, with every peo
ple the development of the imagination and of the passions precedes that of the
intellect; the passions and the imagination finding their object and aliment
before the intellect. This accounts, also, for the fact that the poetical always
precedes the philosophical era. From this it follows, that nations in their
infancy think little, as they want ideas ; and this is the chief distinctive mark
between them and the people of Europe at the period we are speaking of. In
fact, ideas at that time abounded in HJurope ; and hence the purely intellectual
was held in such repute even amidst the most profound ignorance. Hence,
also, the intellect strove to shine even before its time appeared to have arrived.
Sound ideas respecting God, respecting man and society, were already every
where disseminated, thanks to the incessant teaching of Christianity; and as
there still remained numerous traces of the wisdom of antiquity, both Christian
and Pagan, the consequence was, that every man possessed of a little learning
had, in fact, a great fund of ideas.

It is clear, bo evr, that notwithstanding these advantages, the minds of

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 407

men oould not, amidst the chaos of erudition and philosophy that then pre
sented itself, escape the confusion naturally resulting from the \ude-spread
ignorance, occasioned by a long succession of revolutions. They could not
possess sufficient discrimination and judgment to pursue all at once, and with
success, the study of the Bible, of the writings of the holy Fathers, of the
civil and canon law, of the works of Aristotle, and of the Arabian commen
taries. Yet these were all studied at the same time ; on all these, disputes
were zealously maintained ; and the errors and extravagances which in such
a state of things were inevitable were accompanied by the presumption that
is invariably inherent in ignorance. To succeed in explaining certain passages
of the Bible, of the Fathers, of the codes, and of the works of philosophers,
great preparatory labors were necessary, as the experience of subsequent ages
has proved. It was necessary to study languages, to examine archives and
monuments, to collect together from all parts an immense mass of materials j
then, to reduce these to order, to compare them together, and to discriminate
between them ; in a word, it was necessary to possess a rich fund of learning,
enlightened by the torch of criticism. Now all this was then wanting, and
co.uld only be attained in the course of ages. The consequence was inevitable,
considering the mania that existed for explaining every thing. If a difficulty
arose, and the facts and knowledge requisite for its solution were wanting, they
adopted a roundabout way ; instead of seeking the support derivable from facts,
the disputants took their stand upon an idea ; substituting some subtle abstrac
tion for solid reasoning j where they found it impossible to form a body of
sound doctrine, they threw together a confused mass of ideas and words. Who
could repress a smile, or not feel pity for Abelard, for instance, promising his
disciples to explain to them the prophet Ezechiel, with very little time for pre
paration, and actually fulfilling his promise ? I would ask the reader whether,
in the middle of the thirteenth century, an explanation of Ezechiel, given with
only a slight preparation, could have been successsful or interesting ?

The study of dialectics and metaphysics was embraced with so much ardor
that in a short time these branches of knowledge superseded all others. The
consequences were prejudicial to the minds of men ; their attention being wholly
engrossed by this object of their choice, the pursuit of more solid learning was
regarded with indifference — history was neglected, literature unnoticed, in a
word, the mind was only half developed. Every thing appertaining to the
imagination and the feelings was sacrificed to the cultivation of the intellect;
not, indeed, in its most useful operations, — the formation of a clear and perfect
perception, of a mature judgment, of a habit of sound and accurate reasoning,
— but in those which are astute, subtle, and extravagant.

Those who would reproach the Church for her conduct at that period in re
ference to innovators have a very imperfect understanding of the actual condi
tion of Europe as regards science and religion. Wt have already seen that the
intellectual development was religious ; consequently, even when it deviated
from the right path, it still retained this character, and the oddest subtilties
were applied to mysteries the most sublime. Almost all the heretics of the
time were renowned dialecticians, and their errors arose from an excess of
subtilty. .Roscelin, one of the leading dialecticians of his time, was the
founder, or at least one of the leaders of the sect of the Nominalists. Abelard
was celebrated for the readiness of his talents, his skill in disputation, and his
address in explaining every thing to suit his thesis. The abuse of his intel
lect led him into the errors which we have already spoken of — errors which
he would have avoided, had he not proudly yielded himself up to his own vain
thoughts. The mania for subtilising every thing drew Gilbert de la Poiree
into the most lamentable errors on the subject of the Divinity; Amaury, an
other celebrated philosopher, after the fashion of the time, took up so warmly

408 PEOTE8TANTI8M COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY

the question of Aristotle's primordial matter, that he ended by declaring mat*
ter to be God. The Church strenuously opposed these errors, which arose in
great numbers in minds led astray by vain arguments, and puffed up with fool
ish pride. It would argue a strange misconception of the true interests of
science, to suppose that the Church's resistance to these raving innovators was
not most favorable to intellectual progress.

These headstrong men, eager in the pursuit of knowledge> and captivated
by the first chimera presented to their imagination, stood greatly in need of
some discreet authority to restrain them within the bounds of reason and
moderation. The intellect had scarcely taken the first steps in the career of
knowledge, and yet fancied it already knew every thing, " pretending to know
all things except the nescio, I know not," as St. Bernard reproaches the vain
Abelard. Why should we not, for the good of humanity, and the credit of
the human intellect, approve the condemnation pronounced by the Church
against the errors of Gilbert, which aimed at nothing less than the overthrow
of the ideas that we have of God ? If Amaury and his disciple David de
Dinant are smitten by the sentence of the Church, it is because they destroy
the idea of the Divinity by confounding the Creator with primordial matter.
Was it for the advantage of Europe that its intellectual movement should be
commenced by precipitating itself at the very outset into the abyss of pan
theism ?

Had the human intellect followed in its development the way marked out
for it by the Church, European civilization would have gained at least two
centuries ; the fourteenth century would have been as far advanced as the six
teenth was. To convince ourselves of the truth of this assertion, we have only
to compare writings with writings, and men with men ; the men most firmly
attached to the faith of the Church attained to such eminence that they left
the age in which they lived far behind them. Roscelin's antagonist was St.
Anselm ; the latter always remained faithful to the authority of the Church j
the former rebelled against her : and who, let met ask, would have the hardi
hood to compare the dialectician of Compiegne with the learned Archbishop
of Canterbury ? How vast the difference between the profound and skilful
metaphysician who composed the Monologue and the Prosologue, and the fri
volous leader of the disputes of the Nominalists ! Have the subtilties and
cavillings of Roscelin any weight whatever against the lofty thoughts of th«
man who, in the eleventh century, to prove the existence of God, could reject
nil vain and captious reasonings, concentrate himself within himself, consult
.iis own ideas, compare them with their object, and demonstrate the existence
of God from the very idea of God, thus anticipating Descartes by five
hundred years ? Who best understood the true interests of science ? Show
me how the intellect of St. Anselm was degraded or shackled by the influence
of the formidable authority of the Church, by any usurpation on the part of
Popes of the rights of the human mind. And can Abelard himself be com
pared, either as a man, or as a writer, with his Catholic adversary, St. Ber
nard ? Abelard was a perfect master of all the subtilties of the schools ; noisy
disputes were his amusement ; he was intoxicated with the applause of his
disciples, who were dazzled by their master's talents and courage, and still more
by the learned follies of the age ', yet what has become of his works ? Who
reads them ? Who ever thinks of finding in them a single page of sound rea
soning, the description of a single great event, or a picture of the manners of
the time, in other words, the least matter of interest to science or history ?
On the contrary, what man of learning has not often sought this in the im
mortal works of St. Bernard ?

It is impossible to find a more sublime personification of the Church com
bating against the heretics of his time than the illustrious Ala Dot of Clairvaux,

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 40$

Contending against all innovators, and speaking, if we may use the term, in
the name of the Catholic faith. No one could more worthily represent the
ideas and sentiments which the Church endeavored to diffuse amongst man
kind, nor more faithfully delineate the course through which Catholicity would
have led the human mind. Let us pause for a moment in the presence of this
"•igantic mind, which attained to an eminence far beyond any of its contem
poraries. This extraordinary man fills the world with his name — upheaves it
bv his words — sways it by his influence ; in the midst of darkness he is its
light ; he forms, as it were, a mysterious link, connecting the two epochs of
St. Jerome and St. Augustine, of Bossuet and Bourdaloue. In the midst of
a general relaxation and corruption of morals, by the strictest observances and
the most perfect purity he is proof against every assault. Ignorance prevails
throughout all classes ; he studies night and day to enlighten his mind. A
false and counterfeit erudition usurps the place of true knowledge ; he knows
its unsouudness, disdains and despises it ; and his eagle eye discovers at a glance
that the star of truth moves at an immense distance from this false reflection,
from this crude mass of subtilties and follies, which the men of his time termed
philosophy. If at that period there existed any useful learning, it was to be
sought in the Bible, and in the writings of the holy Fathers ; to the study of
these, therefore, St. Bernard devotes himself unremittingly. Far from con
sulting the vain babblers who are arguing and declaiming in the shools, St.
Bernard seeks his inspirations in the silence of the cloister, or in the august
sanctuary of the temple ; if he goes out, it is to contemplate the great book
of nature, to study eternal truths in the solitude of the desert, and, as he him
self has expressed it, " in forests of beech-trees."

Thus did this great man, rising superior to the prejudices of his time, avoid
the evil produced in his contemporaries by the method then prevailing By
this method the imagination and the feelings were stifled; the judgment
warped ; the intellect sharpened to excess ; and learning converted into a laby
rinth of confusion. Read the works of the sainted Abbot of Clairvaux, and
you will find that all his faculties go, as it were, hand in hand. If you look
for imagination, you will find the finest coloring, faithful portraits, and splen
did descriptions. If you want feeling, you will learn how skilfully he finds
his way into the heart, captivates, subdues, and fashions it to his will. Now
he strikes a salutary fear into the hardened sinner, tracing with great force the
formidable picture of the divine justice and the eternal vengeance ; then he
consoles and sustains the man who is sinking under worldly adversity, the as
saults of his passions, the recollection of his transgressions, or an exaggerated
fear of the divine justice. Do you want pathos? Listen to his colloquies with
Jesus and Mary ; hear him speaking of the blessed Virgin with such enrap
turing sweetness, that he seems to exhaust all the epithets that the liveliest
hope and the most pure and tender love can suggest. Would you have vigor
and vehemence of style, and that irresistible torrent of eloquence which no
thing can resist, .which carries the mind beyond itself, fires it with enthusiasm,
compels it to enter upon the most arduous paths, and *to undertake the most
heroic enterprises ? See him with his burning words inflaming the zeal of the
people, nobles, and kings ; moving them to quit their homes, to take up arms,
and to unite in numerous armies that pour into Asia to rescue the Holy Sepulchre.
This extraordinary man is every where met with, every where heard. Entirely
free from ambition, he possesses, nevertheless, a leading influence in the great
affairs of Europe : though fond of solitude and retirement, he is continually
obliged to quit the obscurity of the cloister to assist in the councils of kings
and popes. He never flatters, never betrays the truth, never dissembles the
sacred ardor which burns within his breast; and yet he is every where lis
tened to with profound respect; his stern voice is heard in the cottages of th*

s K

410 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

poor an 1 in the palaces of kings ; he admonishes with terrible severity tht
most obscure monk and the Sovereign Pontiff.

In the midst of so much ardor and activity, his mind loses none of its
clearness or precision. His exposition of a point of doctrine is remarkable
for ease and lucidity ; his demonstrations are vigorous and conclusive ; his rea
soning is conducted with a force of logic that presses close upon his adversary,
and leaves him no means of escape : in defence, his quickness and address are
surprising. In his answers he is clear and precise ; in repartee, quick and
penetrating; and without dealing in the subtilties of the schools, he displays
wonderful tact in disentangling truth from error, sound reason from artifice and
fraud. Here is a man formed entirely and exclusively under the influence of
Catholicity ; a man who never strayed from the pale of the Church, who never
dreamed of setting his intellect free from the yoke of authority ; and yet he
rises like a mighty pyramid above all the men of his time.

To the eternal honor of the Catholic Church, and utterly to disprove the
accusation brought against her, of exerting an influence hostile to the freedom
of the human mind, I must observe that St. Bernard was not the only man who
rose superior to the age, and pointed out the way to genuine progress. It is
unquestionably certain, that the most distinguished men of that period, those
least influenced by the evils that so long kept the human mind in pursuit of
mere vanities and shadows, were precisely the men most devotedly attached to
Catholicity. These men set an example of what was necessary to be done for
the advancement of learning ; an example that for a long time had, it is true,
but few followers, but which found some in subsequent ages : now it is to be
observed that' the progress of learning was due to the credit obtained by this
method — I speak of the study of antiquity.

The sacred sciences were the chief object of attention at this period; as the
intellect was theologically developed, dialectics and metaphysics were studied
with a view to their application to theology. With Roscelin, Abelard, Gilbert
de la Poiree, and Amaury, the phrase was : " Let us reason, subtilise, and
apply our systems to all sorts of questions ; let our reason be our rule and
guide, without which knowledge is impossible." With St. Bernard, St. An-
selm, Hugh and Richard de St. Victor, Peter Lombard, on the contrary, it was :
" Let us see what antiquity teaches ; let us study the works of the holy Fa
thers ; let us analyse and compare their texts ; we cannot place our dependence
exclusively on arguments, which are sometime dangerous and sometimes futile."
Which of these two judgments has been actually confirmed ? Which of these
methods was adopted when real progress was to be made ? Was not recourse
had to an unremitting study of ancient works ? Was it not found necessary
to throw aside the cavils of the dialecticians ? Protestants themselves boast
of having taken this way; their theologians consider it an honor to be versed
in antiquity ; and would be offended if treated as mere dialecticians. On which
side, then, was reason ? With the heretics, or with the Church ? Who best
understood the method most favorable to intellectual progress ? The heretical
dialectician, or the orthodox doctor ? To these questions there can only be one
reply. These are not mere opinions — they are facts ; not an empty theory,
but the actual history of learning, as known by all the world, and as represented
to us in irrefragable documents. Unless prepossessed by the authority of M.
Quizot, the reader certainly cannot complain that I have eschewed questions of
history, or claimed his belief on my own bare word.

Unhappily, mankind seemed doomed never to find the true road without
going a long way round ; thus the intellect, taking the very worst way of all,
went in pursuit of subtilties and cavils, forsaking the beaten track oi reason
and good sense. At the beginning of the twelfth century the evil had reached
to such a height, that to apply a remedy was no slight undertaking; n< is it

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 411

easy to say how far matters might have gone, nor what evils would have ensued
in various ways, had not Providence, who never abandons the care of the moral,
any more than of the physical universe, raised up an extraordinary genius, who,
rising to an immense height above the men of his age, reduced the chaos to
order. Out of the undigested mass, by retrenching here, adding there, clas
sifying and explaining, this man collected a fund of real learning. Persons ac
quainted with the history of learning at that time will readily understand that
I speak of St. Thomas Aquinas. Rightly to appreciate the extraordinary
merit of this great Doctor, we must view him in connection with the times and
circumstances of which we are treating. Beholding in St. Thomas Aquinas
one of the most luminous, most comprehensive, and most penetrating intellects
that have ever adorned the human race, we are almost tempted to think that
his appearance in the thirteenth century was inopportune ; we regret that h«j
did not live in a more recent age, to enter the lists with the most illustrious
men of whom modern Europe can boast. But, upon further reflection, we find
that the human mind owes so much to him, we see so clearly the reason why
his appearance at the time when Europe received his lectures was most oppor
tune, that we have no other feeling left than one of profound admiration of
the designs of Providence.

What was the philosophy of his time ? Amidst the strange compound of
Greek and Arabian philosophy and of Christian ideas, what would have become
of dialectics, metaphysics, and morality ? We have already seen what sort of
fruit began to grow out of such combinations, favored by a degree of ignorance
unable to distinguish the real nature of things, and encouraged by pride that
pretended to a knowledge of every thing. And yet the evil was only begin
ning ; its further development would have been attended with symptoms still
more alarming. Fortunately, this great man appeared ; the first touch of his
powerful hand advanced learning two or three centuries. He could not root
out the evil, but at least he applied a remedy ; owing to his indisputable supe
riority, his method and his learning soon won their way everywhere. He
became, as it were, the centre of a grand system, round which all other scho
lastic writers were forced to revolve ; he thus prevented a multitude of errors
that without his intervention would have been almost inevitable. He found
the schools in a state of complete anarchy; he reduced them to order; and on
account of his angelic intellect, and his eminent sanctity, was looked up to as
their sublime dictator. This is the view I take of the mission of St. Thomas ;
it will be viewed in the same light by all those who study his works, and do
not content themselves with a hasty perusal of a biographical article respect
ing him.

Now this man was a Catholic, and the Catholic Church venerates him upon
her altars, and I do not see that his mind was shackled by authority in mat
ters of faith ; it goes abroad freely amongst all the branches of knowledge ; he
unites in his person such extensive and profound acquirements as to appear a
prodigy for the a'ge in which he lived. We observe in St. Thomas, notwith
standing the purely scholastic method which he adopted, the same characteristic
that we discover in all the eminent Catholic writers of the times. He reasons
much ; but it is easy to see that he does not trust entirely to his reason, but
proceeds with that wise diffidence which is an unequivocal sign of real learning.
He avails himself of the doctrines of Aristotle ; but evidently would have made
less use of them, and more of the Fathers, but for his leading idea, which was,
to make the philosophy of his time subservient to the defence of religion. The
reader must not suppose that his metaphysics and moral philosophy are a con
geries of inexplicable enigmas, as a knowledge of the period at which he wrote
might lead us to apprehend. Nothing of the kind ; and any one who entertains
•<ueh an idea has evidently not spent much time in tlv studv of his writings-

*12 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

His metaphysical works, it must be acknowledged, make us perfectly acquainted
with the dominant ideas of the time ; but it is equally undeniable, that in every
page we meet with the most luminous passages on the most complicated ques
tions of ideology, ontology, cosmology, and psychology ; so much so, that we
almost imagine we are reading the works of a philosopher who wrote after the
fullest development of the sciences had been attained

What his political ideas were, we have already seen; were it necessary, and
did the nature of the present work permit, I might here produce many frag
ments from his Treatise on Laics and on Justice, distinguished for such solid
principles, such lofty views, so profound a knowledge of the nature of society,
that they would occupy an honorable position amongst the best works on legis
lation written in modern times. His treatises on virtues and vices, whether
considered generally, or in detail, exhaust the subject, and defy all subsequent
writers tp produce a single idea of any importance that has not been already
either developed, or at least suggested in them. Above all, his works are
remarkable for moderation and extreme reserve in doctrinal expositions, in
which respect they are eminently conformable to the spirit of Catholicity ; and
assuredly if all writers had followed in his footsteps, the field of science would
have presented us with an assembly of sages, and would not have been con
verted into a blood-stained arena for furious combatants. Such is his modesty,
that he does not relate a single incident in his life, private or public ; from
him we hear nothing but the language of enlightened reason, calmly dispensing
its treasures : the man, with his fame, his misfortunes, his labors, and all his
vain pretensions, with which other writers are wont to weary us, never appears
for an instant. (41)

CHAPTER LXXII.

ON THE PROGRESS OP THE HUMAN MIND FROM THE ELEVENTH CENTURY TO
THE PRESENT TIME.

L THINK I have satisfactorily vindicated the Catholic Church from the
reproaches cast upon her by her enemies, for her conduct during the eleventh
and twelfth centuries in reference to the development of the human mind. Let
us now take a rapid survey of the march of intellect up to our own times, and
see what titles Protestantism can produce to the gratitude of the friends of pro
gress in human knowledge.

If I mistake not, the following are the phases through which the human
mind has passed, since the revival of learning in the eleventh century. First
came the epoch of subtilties, with its heaps of crude erudition ; then the age of
criticism, with appropriate attempts at grave controversies on the meaning of
records and monuments; and finally came the reflecting age, and the inaugura
tion of the philosophical period. The eleventh and succeeding centuries, to
the sixteenth, were characterized by a fondness for dialectics and erudite
trifles ; criticism and controversy formed the distinctive characteristics of the
sixteenth, and part of the seventeenth centuries; the philosophical spirit began
to prevail towards the middle of the seventeenth, and continued to our own
time. Now of what advantage was Protestantism to learning ? None ; Pro-
testantism found learning already accumulated — this I can easily prove —
Erasmus and Louis Vives shone in the time of Luther.

Did Protestantism promote the study of criticism ? Yes ; just as an epidemic
that decimates nations aids the progress of the medicinal art. But we must
not suppose that the taste for this kind of literary labor would not have been
iissfTD mated without the aid of the pseud vReforrnation. As monuments cam*

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 418

to light, as a knowledge of languages became more general, as ihe public
acquired clearer and more correct notions of history, people would naturally
set themselves to discriminate between the apocryphal and the authentic. The
necessary documents were at hand, and were studied unremittingly ; for this
was the favorite taste of the epoch. Under such circumstances, how is it pos
sible there should have existed no desire to examine to what author, and to
what age, such documents severally belonged ; to investigate how far ignorance
or dishonesty had falsified them, had taken from, or added to them ? On this
subject, I need only relate what took place relative to the famous decretals of
Isidore Mercator. These decretals had been received, without opposition,
during the centuries anterior to the fifteenth, owing to the want of antiquarian
and critical research ; but the moment that knowledge and facts began to accu
mulate, the edifice of imposture gave way. As early as the fifteenth century,
Cardinal Cusa challenged the authenticity of certain decretals that had beeu
supposed to be anterior to Pope Siricius ; and the reflections of the learned
Cardinal led the way to other attacks of a similar kind. A serious discussion
arose, in which Protestants naturally took part ; but it would unquestionably
have been engaged in all the same, if Catholic writers had been left entirely
to themselves. When the learned came to read the codes of Theodosius and
Justinian, the works of antiquity, and collections of ecclesiastical records, thev
could not possibly fail to observe that the spurious decretals contained sen
tences and fragments belonging to an era posterior to the time to which they
were referred; and when once such doubts had arisen, error was sure to be
promptly exposed.

We may say of controversy, what we have just said of criticism. There
would have been no want of controversy, even if the unity of the faith had
never been violated. In support of this assertion, the recollection of what
occurred amongst the different schools of Catholics is quite conclusive. These
schools were engaged in controversy amongst themselves, in the presence even
of the common opponent : and we may rest assured that, if their attention had
not been partially diverted by that enemy, their polemical discussions would
have been maintained only with the greater energy and warmth. Protestants
have no more the advantage over Catholics, as regards controversy than as
regards criticism. However true it be that some of our theologians did not
see the necessity of opposing the enemy with arms superior to those taken from
the arsenal of Aristotelian philosophy, it is quite certain that a great number
of them took up a sufficiently lofty position, and were thoroughly impressed
with the importance of the crisis, and urged the introduction of very great
modifications into the course of theological studies. Bellarmin, Melchior Cano;
Petau, and many others, were no way inferior to the most skilful Protestants,
whatever may have been the boasted- scientific merits of the defenders of error.

The knowledge of the learned languages must have contributed in an extra
ordinary degree to the progress of critical and controversial learning. Now I
do not see that Catholics were behind others in the knowledge of Latin, Greek,
and Hebrew. Anthony de Nebrija, Erasmus, Louis Vives, Lawrence Villa,
Leonardus Aretinus, Cardinal Bembo, Sadolet, Poggio, Melchior Cano, and
many others, too numerous to mention ; were they, I ask, trained in Protest
antism? Did not the Popes, moreover, take the lead in this literary movement?
Who patronized the learned with greater liberality ? Who supplied them with
more abundant resources ? Who incurred greater expenses in the purchase of
the best manuscripts ? Nor let it be forgotten, that such wag the taste for pure
Latinity, that some among the learned objected to read the Vulgate, for fear
of acquiring inelegant phrases.

As regards Greek, we need only bear in mind the causes thxt led to its dif
fusion in Europe, to be convinced that the progress made in th ) knowledge oJ

§14 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

this language owes nothing whatever to the pseudo-Reformation. It is well
known that, after the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, the literary
remains of that unfortunate nation were brought to the coasts of Italy. In
Italy the study of Greek was first seriously commenced ; from Italy it spread
to France, and to the other European states. Half a century before the
appearance of Protestantism, this language was taught in Paris by the Italian
Gregory de Tiferno. At the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the six-
teenth centuries, Germany itself could boast of the celebrated John Reuchlin,
who taught Greek with great applause, first at Orleans and Poictiers, and after
wards at Ingolstadt. Reuchlin, being on one occasion at Rome, so felicitously
explained, and read with so pure an accent, a passage from Thucydides, in the
presence of Argyropilus, that the latter, filled with admiration, exclaimed :
" Grcecia nostra exilio transvolavit Alpes ; our exiled Greece has crossed the
Alps."

Respecting Hebrew, I will transcribe a passage from the Abbe Goujet:
" Protestants," -says he, " would fain have it thought that they effected the
revival of this language in Europe ; but they are forced to acknowledge, that
whatever they know of Hebrew they owe to the Catholics, who were their
teachers, and the sources whence, even to this day, is obtained all that is most
valuable in Oriental literature. John Reuchlin, who lived the greater part of
his time in the fifteenth century, was unquestionably a Catholic, and one of the
most skilful Hebrew scholars, and was also the first Christian who reduced the
teaching of that language to a system. John Weissel of Groningen had taught
him the elements of this language, and had himself pupils in whom he had
awakened a love for this study. In like manner, it was by the exertions of
Picus de Mirandula, who was a strict Catholic, that a taste for the study of
Hebrew was revived in the West. At the time of the Council of Trent, most
of the heretics who then knew that language had learned it in the bosom of the
Church they had forsaken ; and their vain subtilties respecting the meaning of
the sacred text excited the faithful to still greater assiduity in the study of a
language so well calculated to insure their own triumph and the defeat of their
opponents. In devoting themselves to this branch of study, moreover, they
were only following out the intentions of Pope Clement V., who, as early as
the beginning of the fourteenth century, had ordained that Greek, and Hebrew,
and even Arabic and Chaldean, should be publicly taught, for the benefit of
foreigners, at Rome, at Paris, at Oxford, at Bologna, and at Salamanca. The
design of this Pope, who so well knew the advantages resulting from well-con-
ducSd studies, was, to augment the learning of the Church by the study of
languages, and to raise up doctors capable of defending her against every form
of error. By means of these languages, and more especially of Hebrew, he
intended to renew the study of the sacred books, that the latter, when read in
the original, might appear more worthy of the Holy Spirit who inspired them,
and by their combined grandeur and simplicity, when better known, awaken
greater reverence for them ; and that, without derogating from the respect due
to the Latin version, it might be felt that an intimate acquaintance with the
originals was peculiarly serviceable in confirming the faith of believers, and
confuting heretics." (L'Abbe Goujet, Discours sur le renouvellemcnt det
Etudes, et principalement des Etudes fcclesiastiques depuis le quatorzieme sttcle.)

One of the causes which contributed the most to the development of the
human mind was the creation of great centres of instruction, collecting the
most illustrious talents and learning, and diffusing rays of light in all direc
tions. I know not how men could forget that this idea was not due to the pre-
terded Reformation, seeing that most of the universities of Europe W3re estab
lished long before the birth of Luther. That of Oxford was established in 89 5j ;
Cambridge in 1280 ; that of Prague, in Bohemia, in 1358 ; that of Louvain, iv

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 415

Belgium) in 1425 ; that of Vienna, in Austria, in 1365 ; that of Ingolstadt, in
Germany, in 1372 ; that of Leipsic in 1408 ; that of Basle, in Switzerland, in
1469 ; that of Salamanca in 1200 ; that of Alcala in 1517. It would be super
fluous to notice the antiquity of the universities of Paris, of Bologna, of Fer
rara, and of a great many others, which attained the highest renown long before
the advent of Protestantism. The Popes, it is well known, took an active part
in the establishment of universities, granting them privileges, and bestowing
upon them the highest honors and distinctions. How can any one, then, ven
ture to assert, that Home has opposed the progress of learning and the sciences,
in order to keep the people in darkness and ignorance ? As if Divine Provi
dence had intended to confound these future calumniators of His Church,
Protestantism made its appearance precisely at the time when, under the
auspices of a renowned Pope, the progress in the science, in literature and the
arts was most active. Posterity, judging of our disputes with impartiality,
will undoubtedly pass a severe sentence upon those pretended philosophers,
who are constantly endeavoring to prove from history, that Catholicity haa
impeded the progress of the human mind, and that scientific progress has been
all owing to the cry of liberty raised in central Germany. Yes ; sensible men
in future ages, like those of our own times, will form a correct judgment upon
this subject, when they reflect that Luther began to propagate his errors in the
dye of Leo X.

Certainly, the court of Rome could not at that time be reproached with
obscurantism. Rome was at the head of all progress, which she urged onwards
with the most active zeal, the most ardent enthusiasm ; so much so, indeed,
that if she were censurable at all — if there were in her conduct any thing of
which history should disapprove — it was rather that her march was too quick
than too slow. Had another St. Bernard addressed Leo X., he would assuredly
not have blamed him for abusing his authority to impede the march of the
human intellect and the progress of learning. " The Reformation," says M.
de Chateaubriand, " deeply imbued with the spirit of its founder — a coarse
and jealous monk — declared itself the enemy of the arts. By prohibiting the
exercise of the imaginative faculties, it clipped the wings of genius, and made
her plod on foot. It raised an outcry against certain alms destined for the
erection of the basilica of St. Peter for the use of the Christian world. Would
the Greeks have refused the assistance solicited from their piety for the build
ing of a temple to Minerva ? Had the Reformation been completely successful
from the beginning, it would have established, for a time at least, another
species of barbarism : viewing as superstition the pomp of divine worship j as
idolatry the chefs-d'oeuvre of sculpture, of architecture, and of painting, its ten
dency was to annihilate lofty eloquence and sublime poetry — to degrade taste,
by repudiating its models — to introduce a dry, cold, and captious formality into
the operations of the mind — to substitute in society affectation and materialism
in lieu of ingenuousness and intellectuality, and to make machinery take the
place of manual and mental operations. These are truths confirmed by every
day experience.

" Amongst the various branches of the reformed religion, their approxima-
tion to the beautiful and sublime is always found to be proportioned to the
amount of Catholic truth they have retained. In England, where an eccle
siastical hierarchy has been upheld, literature has had its classic era. Luther
anism preserves some sparks of imagination, which Calvinism ai^Tg at utterly
extinguishing; and so on, till we come to Quakerism, which would reduce
social life to unpolished manners and the practice of trades. Shakspeare, in
all probability, was a Catholic ; Milton has evidently imitated some parts of
the poems of St. Avitus and Masenius ; Klopstock has lorrowed very largely
from the faith of Rome. In our own days, in Germany the high imaginative

416 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH .CATHOLICITY.

powers have been put forth only when the spirit of Protestantism lad begnt
to decline. It was in treating Catholic subjects that the genius of Goethe and
Schiller was manifested ; Rousseau and Madame de Stael are, indeed, illus
trious exceptions to this rule ; but were they Protestants after the model of
the first disciples of Calvin ? At this very day, painters, architects, and sculp
tors, of all the conflicting creeds, go to seek inspiration at Rome, where they
find universal toleration. Europe, nay, the whole world, is covered with monu
ments of the Catholic religion. To it we are indebted for that Gothic archi
tecture, which rivals in its details, and eclipses in its magnificence, the monu
ments of Greece. It is now three centuries since Protestantism arose. — it ia
powerful in England, in Germany, in America, — it is professed by millions of
men, — and what has it erected ? It can show only the ruins it has made ; on
which perhaps, it has planted gardens or built factories. Rebelling against thu
authority of tradition, the experience of centuries, and the venerable wisdom
of ages, Protestantism let go its hold on the past, and planted a society with
out roots. Acknowledging for their founder a German monk of the sixteenth
century, the reformers renounced the wonderful genealogy that unites Catho
lics, through a succession of great and holy men, with Jesus Christ Himself,
and, through Him, with the patriarchs and the earliest of mankind. The Pro
testant era, from the first hours of its existence, refused all relationship with
the era of that Leo who protected the civilized world against Attila, and also
with the era of that other Leo, at whose coming barbarism vanished, and
society, now no longer in need of defence, put on the ornaments of civiliza
tion." (Etud. Histor., Frangois I.)

It is' much to be regretted that the author of such noble sentiments, who so
accurately describes the effects of Protestantism on literature and the arts,
should have said, that " the Reformation was, properly speaking, philosophic
truth, under the guise of Christianity, attacking religious truth/' (Etud.
Histor., Preface.) What is the meaning of these words ? We shall best un
derstand them from the illustrious author's own explanation. " Religious
truth/' says he, " is the knowledge of one God manifested in a form of worship.
Philosophic truth is the .threefold knowledge of things intellectual, moral, and
natural." (Etud. Histor., Exposition.) It is difficult to imagine how any
one who admits the truth of the Catholic religion, and, as a necessary conse
quence, the falsehood of Protestantism, can define the latter to be, philoso
phic truth at war with religious truth. In the natural, as well as in the super
natural, order of things, in philosophy as in religion, all truths come from
God, all end in Him. There cannot, therefore, be any antagonism between
truths of one order and truths of another order; between religious and true
philosophy, between nature and grace, no antagonism is possible. Truth is
that which is ; for truth resides in beings themselves ; we should rather say,
it consists of beings themselves such as they exist, such as they are in their
substance ; and hence it is quite incorrect to say that philosophic truth has
ever stood in antagonism to religious truth.

According to the same author " Philosophic truth is neither more nor less
than the independence of the human mind ; its tendency being to make dis
coveries, and lead to perfection in the three sciences that come within its sphere,
viz. the intellectual, the moral, and the natural. But philosophic truth," he
continues, " looking forwards to the future, has stood in opposition to religious;
truth, which adheres to the past, owing to the immovable nature of the eternal
principle upon which it is founded." (Etud Histor., Exposition.) With all
the respect due to the immortal author of the Gertie du Christ ianisme and of
the Martyrs, I must take the liberty to observe, that we find here a lamentable
jonfusion of ideas. The philosophic truth of which M. de Chateaubriand here
lreats, must be either science itself, considered as an aggregate of truths, or a

PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY. 417

general knowledge, in which truth and error are commingled ; or, in fine, the
whole body of men of learning, considered as constituting a very influential
class in society. In the first case, it is impossible for philosophic truth to be
in antagonism to religious truth, — that is, to Catholicity -} in the second case,
the alleged opposition is nothing extraordinary, for error being in this case
mixed up with truth, will on some points be found to be opposed to Catholic
faith ; and, finally, as regards the third hypothesis, it is unfortunately too true,
that many men, distinguished by their talents and erudition, have been opposed
to Catholicity; but, on the other hand, as great a number of men equally
eminent have triumphantly maintained the truth of Catholicity ; hence it would
be extremely illogical to affirm that philosophic truth, even in this sense, is op
posed to religious truth.

It is not my wish to give an unfavorable interpretation to the words of the
illustrious writer ; I rather incline to think, tLat, in his mind, philosophic truth
is nothing but a spirit of independence considered in a general, vague, and un
defined sense, and not as applied to any object in particular. This is the only
way to reconcile assertions so different ; for it is quite clear, that, after he had
so severely condemned the Protestant Reformation, the writer could not pro
ceed to admit that this same Reformation carried with it philosophic truth,
properly so called, wherein it became opposed to Catholic doctrines. But, in
this case, the language of the illustrious author is unquestionably wanting in
precision j this, however, need not surprise us, as, upon reflection, we shall find
that, in treating historico-philosophical subjects, precision is not to be expected
from writers whose genius has been wont to soar into the highest regions on
the wings of a sublime poetry.

It was not either in Germany or in England, but in Catholic France, that
the philosophical movement advanced with the greatest freedom and daring
Descartes, the founder of a new era in philosophy, that superseded the Aris
totelian, and gave a fresh impulse to the study of logic, of physics, and meta
physics, was a Frenchman and a Catholic. The greater part of his most dis
tinguished followers were also in communion with the Roman Church. Philo
sophy, then, in the highest sense of the word, owes nothing to Protestantism.
Before Leibnitz, Germany could scarcely reckon a single philosopher of any note ;
and the English shools that attained to an} thing like celebrity arose after
Descartes' time. We shall find, upon reflection, that France was the centre of
the philosophical movement from the end of the sixteenth century ; and at
that period all the Protestant countries were so backward in this kind of study,
that the active progress of philosophy amongst the Catholics was scarcely no
ticed by them. In like manner, it was in the bosom of the Catholic Church
that the taste arose for profound meditations on the secrets of the heart, and
on the relations of the human mind to God and nature, and that sublime ab
straction which concentrates man's faculties, sets him free from the body, and
elevates him to those exalted regions that appear destined to be visited ex
clusively by celestial, spirits. Is not mysticism, in its pursest, most refined,
and most elevated form, found in our Catholic writers of the golden age ? Since
that time, what has been published that may not be met with in the works of
St. Teresa, in those of St. John of the Cross, in the venerable Avila, in Louis
de Grenada, and in Louis de Leon ?

And rascal, that man of thought, one of the most vigorous geniuses of tho
seventeenth century, who was unhappily deceived for some time by a hypocri
tical and canting sect, was he a Protestant ? Was it not he who laid the basis
of that philosophico-religious school, whose investigations, directed at one time
to the deepest questions of religion, at another to those of nature, or to the
mysteries of the human heart, have surrounded truth with a flood of light ?
Do not the apologists of Christianity, whether Protestants or Catholics, when
53

<18 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

engaged in combating indifference or incredulity, avail themselves by prefer-
ence of his Penseesf Authors who have written on the philosophy of history
have perhaps surpassed all others in their eagerness to vilify the Church as the
enemy of enlightenment, whilst they represent Protestantism as the great bul
wark of the rights of the mind. Now, gratitude alone should have induced
them to proceed more circumspectly ; they should not forget that the real
founder of the philosophy of history was a Catholic, and that the first and
best work ever written on this subject came from the pen of a Catholic Bishop.
It \fasBossuet, in his immortal Diwours sur I' Histoire Universelle, who first
taught our modern thinkers to take a lofty survey of the human race ; to em
brace at one view all the events that have marked the course of ages, contem
plating them in all their vastness and intimate connection, with all their phases,
effects, and causes, and to draw from them salutary lessons for the instruction
both of princes and people. Now, Bossuet was a Catholic, and, moreover, one
of the most trenchant adversaries of the Protestant Reformation. His fame
is heightened too by another work, in which he completely overthrows the doc
trines of the innovators, by proving their continual variations, and demonstrat
ing that theirs must be the way of error, seeing that variation is incompatible
with truth. We may ask the abettors of Protestantism, if the Eagle of Meaux
feels in his flight the fetters of the Catholic religion, when, glancing at the
origin and destiny of mankind, at the fall of our first parents and its conse
quences, on the revolutions of the East and West, he traces with such wonder
ful sublimity the designs of Divine Providence ?

As regards the literary movement, I might almost consider myself relieved
from all necessity of combating the reproaches cast upon Catholicity by its
enemies. What, in fact, was the literature of all the Protestant countries
together, at the time when Italy produced those orators and poets, who, in suc
ceeding ages, have been universally received as models '! Various descriptions
of literature were already quite common in Catholic countries, that were not
even known in England or Germany ; and when, at a later period, an attempt
was made to fill up the hiatus, no better means could be found for the purpose
than to take for models the Spanish writers, who had been subject to Catholic
obscurantism and ike fires of the Inquisition.

Neither the mind, the heart, nor the imagination of man owes any thing to
Protestantism. Before the Reformation these were all iu graceful and vigorous
progress ; after the Reformation, this progress continued in the bosom of the
Catholic Church as successfully as before. Catholicity displays a bright array
of illustrious men crowned with the glories they have won amidst the unani
mous plaudits of all civilized nations. Whatever has been said of the tendency
of our religion to enslave and hoodwink the mind, is but calumny. No ; that
which is born of light, cannot produce darkness ; that which is the work of
truth itself, need not fly from the sun's rays to conceal itself in the bowels of
the earth. The daughter of heaven may walk in the brightness of day, may
dare discussion, may gather around her all the brightest intellects; well assured
that the more closely and attentively they see and contemplate her, the mow
pure, the more beauteous and enrapturing j?ill she appear

419

CHAPTER LXXIII.

SUMMARY. DECLARATION OF THE AUTHOR.

HAVING reached the end of my difficult enterprise, let me be allowed to take
a retrospective view of the vast space over which I have but just passed, likt
the traveller who rests after his labor. The fear of seeing religious schism
introduced into my country ; the sight of the efforts which were made to incul
cate Protestant errors amongst us; the perusal of certain writings, wherein it
was stated that the pretended Reformation had been favorable to the progress
of nations, — such were the motives which inspired me with the idea of under
taking this work. My object was, to show that neither individuals nor society
owe any thing to Protestantism, either in a religious, social, political, or lite
rary point of view. I undertook to examine what history tells us, and what
philosophy teaches us, on this point. I was not ignorant of the immense extent
of the questions which I had to enter upon ; I was far from nattering myself
that I was able to clear them up in a becoming manner; nevertheless I set forth
upon my journey, with that courage which is inspired by the love of truth, and
the confidence that one is defending its cause.

When considering the birth of Protestantism, I have endeavored to take as
lofty a view as possible. I have rendered to men that justice which is due to
them ; I have attributed a large portion of the evil to the wretched condition
of mankind, to the weakness of our minds, and to that inheritance of perverse-
ness and ignorance which has been transmitted to us by the fall of our first
parent. Luther, Calvin, and Zuinglius have disappeared from my eyes ; placed
in the immense picture of events, they have been viewed by me as small
imperceptible figures, whose individuality was far from deserving the import
ance which was given to them at other periods. Honest in my convictions,
and unreserved in my words,- I have acknowledged with candor, but with sor
row, that there existed certain abuses, and that these abuses were taken as
pretexts when it was wished to break the unity of the faith. I have allowed
that a portion of the blame shall also fall upon men ; but I have also pointed
out, that the more you here lay stress upon the weakness and wickedness of
man, the more do you illustrate the providence of Him who has promised to
be with His Church till the consummation of ages.

By the aid of reasoning and irrefragable experience, I have proved that the
fundamental dogmas of Protestantism show little knowledge of the human
mind, and were a fruitful source of errors and catastrophes. Then, turning
my attention to the development of European civilization, I have made a con
tinued comparison between Protestantism and Catholicity ; and I believe that'
I may assert, that I have not hazarded any proposition of importance without
having supported it by the evidence of historical facts. I have found it neces
sary to take a survey of all ages, dating from the commencement of Chris
tianity, and to observe the different phases under which civilization has
appeared ; without this, it would have been impossible to give a complete vin
dication of the Catholic religion.

The reader may have observed that the prevailing idea of the work is this :
" Before Protestantism European civilization had reached all the development
which was possible for it ; Protestantism perverted the course of civilization,
and produced immense evils in modern society ; the progress which has been
made since Protestantism, has been made not by it, but in spite of it." I have
only consulted history, and I have taken extreme care not to pervert it; I have
borne in mind this passage of holy writ : " Has God, then, need of thy false
hood ?" The documents to which I refer are there ; they are to be found in aU
libraries, readj to answer; read theus and judge for yourselves.

420 PROTESTANTISM COMPARED WITH CATHOLICITY.

I am not aware, in the multitude of questions which have presented them
selves to me, and which it has been indispensable for me to examine, that I
have resolved any in a manner not in conformity with the dogmas of the reli
gion which I was desirous of defending. I am not aware that, in any passage
of my book, I have laid down erroneous propositions, or expressed myself in
ill-sounding terms. Before publishing my work, I submitted it to the exami
nation of ecclesiastical authority ; and without hesitation, I complied with the
slightest hint on its part, purifying, correcting, and modifying what haH been
pointed out as worthy of purification, correction, or modification. Notwith
standing that, I submit my whole work to the judgment of the Catholic,
Apostolic, and Roman Church ; as soon as the Sovereign Pontiff, the Vicar
of Jesus Christ upon earth, shall pronounce sentence against any one of my
opinions, I will hasten to declare that I consider that opinion erroneous, and
aease to profess it.

NOTES.

Norm 1, p. 26.

istory of the Variations is one of those
*rorks which exhaust their subject, and which
do not admit of reply or addition. If this im
mortal chef-d'oeuvre be read with attention, the
3ause of Protestantism, with respect to faith, is
forever decided : there is no middle way left
between Catholicity and infidelity. Gibbon
read it in his youth, and he became a Catholic,
abandoning the Protestant religion in which
he had been brought up. When, at a later
period, he left the Catholic Church, he did not
become a Protestant, but an unbeliever. My
readers will perhaps like to learn from the
mouth of this famous writer what he thought
of the work of Bossuet, and the effect which
was produced on him by its perusal. These
are his words : " In the History of the Varia
tions, an attack equally vigorous and well-
directed," says he, " Bossuet shows, by a happy
mixture of reasoning and narration, the errors,
mistakes, uncertainties, and contradictions of
our first reformers, whose variations, as he
learnedly maintains, bear the marks of error;
while the uninterrupted unity of the Catholic
Church is a sign and testimony of infallible
truth. I read, approved, and believed." (Gib
bon's Memoirs.)

NOTB 2, p. 27.

It has been wished to represent Luther to us
as a man of lofty ideas, of noble and generous
feelings, and as a defender of the rights of the
human race. Yet he himself has left us in his
writings the most striking testimony of the
violence of his character, of his disgusting
rudeness, and his savage intolerance. Henry
VIIL, king of England, undertook to refute
the book of Luther called De Captivitate Baby-
lonica ; and behold the latter, irritated by such
boldness, writes to the king, and calls him
sacrilegious, mad, senseless, the grossest of all
pigs and of all asses. It is evident that Luther
paid but little regard to royalty ; he did the
same with respect to literary merit. Erasmus,
who was perhaps the most learned man of his
age, or who at least surpassed all others in the
variety of his knowledge, in the refinement and
eclat of his mind, was not better treated by the
furious innovator, in spite of all the indulgence
for which the latter was indebted to him. As
soon as Luther saw that Erasmus did not think
proper to be enrolled in the new sect, he at
tacked him with so much violence, that the
latter complained of it, saying, " that in his
old age he was compelled to contend against a
tavaye beast, a furious wild boar." Luther
lid not confine himself to mere words; he
proceeded to acts. It was at his instigation
that Carlostad was exiled from the states of

the Duke of Saxony, and was reduced to such
misery, that he was compelled to carry wood,
and do other similar things, to gain his liveli
hood. In his many disputes with the Zwing-
lians, Luther did not belie his character; he
called them damned, fools, blasphemers. An
he lavished such epithets on his dissenting
companions, we cannot be astonished that he
called the doctors of Louvain beasts, pigs, Pa
gans, Epicureans, Atheists ; and that he makes
use of other expressions which decency will
not allow us to cite ; and that, launching forth
against the Pope, he says, " He is a mad wolf,
against whom every one ought to take arms, with
out waiting even for the order of the magistrates ;
in this matter there can be no room left for repent'
ance, except for not having been able to bury
the sword in his breast,-" adding, "that all
those who followed the Pope ought to be pur
sued like bandit-chiefs, were they kings or
emperors." Such was the spirit of tolerance
which animated Luther. And let it not bo
imagined that this intolerance was confined to
him; it extended to all the party of the inno
vators, and its effects were cruelly felt. We
have an unexceptionable witness of this truth
in Melancthon, the beloved disciple of Luther,
and one of the most distinguished men that
Protestantism has had. " I find myself under
such oppression," wrote Melancthon to his
friend Carnerarius, " that I seem to be in the
cave of the Cyclops; it is almost impossible
for me to explain to you my troubles; and
every moment I feel myself tempted to take
flight" "These are," he says, in another
letter, "ignorant men, who know .neither piety
nor discipline ; behold what they are who com
mand, and you will understand that I am like
Daniel in the lions' den." How, then, can it
be maintained that such an enterprise was
guided by a generous idea, and that it was
really attempted to free the human mind?
The intolerance of Calvin, sufficiently shown
by the single fact mentioned in the text, is
manifested in his works at every page, by the
manner in which he treats his adversaries.

Wicked men, rogues, drunkards, fools, mad
men, furies, beasts, bulla, pigs, asses, dogs, and

vile slaves of Satan. Such are the polite terms
Avhich abound in the writings of the famous

reformer. And how many wretched things

of the same kind could I not relate, if I did

not fear to disgust uiy readers !

NOTE 3, p. 27.

The Diet of Spires had made a decree con
cerning the change of religion and worship,
fourteen towns of the empire refused to submit
to it, and presented a Protest ; hence men be
gan to call the dissenters Protestants. Al
, this name is a condemnation of the separated
i chirches, they have several times attempted
2L 421

422

NOTES.

to assume others, bat always in vain ; the
names which they took were false, and false
names do not last. What was their meaning
when they called themselves Evangelicals f
That they adhered to the Gospel alone ? In
that case they ought rather to call themselves
Biblicals ; for it was not to the Gospel that
they professed to adhere, but to the Bible.
They are also sometimes called Reformers ;
and many people have been accustomed to call
Protestantism, reformation ; but it is enough to
pronounce this word, to feel how inappropriate
it is ; religious revolution would be much more
propar.

NOTE 4, p. 27.

Count de Maistre, in his work Du Pape, has
developed this question of names in an inimi
table manner. Among his numerous observa
tions, there is one very just one : it is, that
the Catholic Church alone has a positive and
proper name, which she gives to herself, and
which is given to her by the whole world. The
separated Churches have invented many, but
without the power of appropriating them. —
"Each one was free to take what name he
pleased/' says M. de Mais-tre ; " Lais, in person,
might be able to write upon her door, Hotel
d'Artemise. The great point is, to compel
others to give us a particular name, which is
not so easy as to take it of our own authority."

Moreover, it must not be imagined that
Count de Maistre was the inventor of this
argument; a long time before him St. Jerome
and St. Augustin had used it. " If you," says
St. Jerome, "hear them called Marcionites,
Valentinians, Montanists, know that they are
not the Church of Christ, but the synagogue
of Antichrist. — Si audieris nuncupari Marci-
onitas, Valentinianos, Montanenses, scito, non
E ,elesiam Christi, sed Antichristi esse syna-
gogam." (Hieron. lib. Adversus Luciferianos.)
" I am retained in the Church," says St. Au
gustin, " by her very name of Catholic ; for it
was not without a cause that she alone, amid
so many heresies, obtained that name. All the
heretics desire to be called Catholics ; yet if a
stranger asks them which is the church of the
Catholics, none of them venture to point out
their church or house. — Tenet me in Ecclesia
ipsum Catholic93 nomen, quod non sine ca,usa
inter tarn rnultas haereses, sic ipsa sola obtinu-
it, ut cum omnes haeretici se Catholicos dici
velint, quaerenti tamen peregrino alicui, ubi ad
Catholioam conveniatur, nullus ha;reticorum,
vel basilicam suam vel domum audeat osten-
dere." (St. Augustin.) What St. Augustin
observed of his time is again realized with
respect to the Protestants. I appeal to the
testimony of those who have visited the coun
tries where different communions exist. An
illustrious Spaniard of the seventeenth century,
who had lived a long time in Germany, tells
as, " They all wish to be called Catholic and
Apostolical ; but notwithstanding this preten
sion, they are called Lutherans, or Calvinists.
— Singuli volunt Catholic! et Apostolici, sed
"olunt, et ab aliis non hoc praetenso illis no
mine, sed Luterani potius aut Calviniani nomi-
nantur." (Caramuel.) " I have dwelt in the
towns of heretics," continues the same writer,
" and I have seen with my e>es and heard with
my ears a thing on which the heterodox should

reflect : it it, that toith the exception of the Pro
testant preacher, and a few others, who denirt
to know more of the thing than is necessary, all
the crowd of heretics gave the name of Catholict
to the Roman*. — Habitavi in hiaereticorum civi-
tatibus ; et hoc propriis oculis vidi, propriis
audivi auribus, quod deberet ab haeterodoxis
ponderari, prceter pratdicantem, et pauculos qui
plus sapiunt quam oportet sapcre, totum hatreti-
corum vulgus Catholicos vocat Jiomanos." Such
is the force of truth. The ideologists know
well that these phenomena have deep causes,
and that these arguments are something more
than subtilties.

NOTE 5, p. 38.

So much has been said of abuses, the in
fluence which they may have had on th«
disasters which the Church suffered during tha
last centuries has been so much exaggerated,
and at the same time so much care has been
taken, by hypocritical praise, to exalt the purity
of manners and strictness of discipline in the
primitive Church, that some people have at
last imagined a line of division between ancient
and modern times. These persons see in tha
early times only truth and sanctity ; they
attribute to the others only corruption and
falsehood ; as if, in the early ages of the
Church, all the faithful were angels — as if the
Church, at all times, had not errors to correct
and passions to control. With history in our
hands, it would be easy to reduce these exag
gerated ideas to their just value, to which
Erasmus himself, certainly little disposed to
exculpate his contemporaries, does justice. He
clearly shows us, in a parallel between his
own times and those of the early ages of the
Church, how puerile and ill-founded was the
desire, then so widely diffused, of exalting
antiquity at the expense of the present time.
We find a fragment of this parallel in the
works of Marchetti, among his observation!
on Fleury's history.

It would not be less curious to pass in review
the regulations made by the Church to check
all kinds of abuses. The collections of councils
would furnish us with so many materials there
upon, that many volumes would not suffice to
make them known ; or rather, these collections
themselves, with alarming bulk, from one end
to the other, are nothing but an evident proof
of these two truths : 1st, that there have been
at all times mainy abuses to be corrected, an
effect, in some measure necessary, of the weak
ness and corruption of human nature; 2dly,
that at all periods the Church has labored to
correct these abuses, so that it may be affirmed
without hesitation, that you cannot point out
one without immediately finding a canonical
regulation by its side to check or punish it.
These observations clearly show that Protest
antism was not caused by abuses, but that it
was a great calamity, as it were, rendered
unavoidable by the fickleness of the human
mind, and the condition in which society was
placed. In the same sense Jesus Christ has
said, that it was necessary that there should be
scandal; not that any one in particular ii
forced to give it, but because such is the cor
ruption of the human heart, that the natural
course of things must necessarily bring it.

NOTES

423

NOTE 6, p. 42.

This ocncert and unity, which are found in
Catholicity, are things which ought to fill every
sensible man with admiration and astonish
ment, whatever his religious ideas may be.
If we do not suppose that the finger of God is
hire, how can we explain or understand the
continuance of the centre of unity in the see
of Rome ? So much has been said of the
supremacy of the Pope, that it is very difficult
to add any thing new ; but perhaps our readers
will not be displeased to see a passage of St.
Francis de Sales, where the various remarkable
titles given to the Sovereign Pontiff and to his
see, ly the Church in ancient times, are col
lected. This work of the holy Bishop is worthy
of being introduced, not only because it in
terests the curiosity, but also because it fur
nishes matter for grave reflection, which we
leave to the reader.

TITLES OF THE POPE.
Most Holy Bishop of the Catholic Church— Council

of Soissons, of 300 Bishops.
Most Holy and Blessed Patriarch — I bid., t. vii,

Council.

Most Blessed Lord — St. Augustine, Ep. 95.
Universal Patriarch— St. Leo, P., Ep. 62.
Chief of the Church in the World— Innoc. ad P. P.

Concil. Milevit
The Bishop elevated ro the Apostolic eminence — St.

Cyprian. Kp. 3, lu.

Father of Fathers — Council of Chalcedon, Sess. iii.
Sovereign Pontiff of iiishops— Id., in praef.
Sovereign Priest — Council of Chalcedon, Sess. xvi.
Prince of Priests — Stephen, Bishop of Carthage.
Prefect of the House of God and Guardian of the

Lord s Vineyard — Council of Carthage, Ep. to

Damasus.
Vicar of Jesus Christ, Confirmer of the Faith of

Christians— St. Jerome, praef. in Evang. ad Da-

masum.
High-Priest — Valentinlan, and all antiquity with

him.
The Sovereign Pontiff— Council of Chalcedon, in

Epist. ad Theodos. Imper.
The Prince of Bishops — Ibid.

The Heir of the Apostles— St. Bern., lib. de Consid.
Abraham by the Patriarchate— St. Ambrose, in 1

Tim iii.
Melchisedech by ordination — Council of Chalcedon

Epist. ad Leonem.

Moses by authority— St. Bernard, Epist. 190.
Samuel by jurisdiction-Id, ib., et in lib. de Con
sider.

I'eter by power — Ibid.
Christ by unction — Ibid.
The Shepherd of the Fold of Jesus Christ— Id. lib.

ii. de Consider.

Key-Hearer of the House of God— Id. ibid. c. viii.
The Shepherd of all Shepherds— Ibid.
The Pontiff called to the plentitude of power — Ibid.
St. Peter was the Mouth of Jesus Christ — St. Chry-

sost. Horn, ii., in Div. Serm.
The Mouth and Head of the Apostleship— Orig.,

Horn. Iv. in Matth. »
The Cathedra and Principal Church— St. Cypr., Ep.

Iv. ad Cornel.

The Source of Sacerdotal Unity — Id., Epist. iii. 2.
The Bond of Unity— Id. ibid. iv. 2.
The Church where resides the chief power (potentior

principalitas)—ld. ibid. iii. 8.
rhe Church the Root and Mother of all the others—

St. Anaclet. Papa, Epist. ad omnes Episc. et

Fideles.
Ihe See on which our Lord has built the Universal

Church — St. Damasus, Epist. ad Univ. Episcop.
The Cardinal Point and Head of all the Churches —

St. MarcelUnus, R. Epist. ad Episc. Antioch.
The Refuge of Bishoi e— Cone. Alex., Epist. ad

Felic. P.

rho Supreme Apostolic See— St. Athanasiu*.
Fhe Presiding Cturch— Emperor Justin., in lib. viii.,

Cod. de 3uu» Trinit.

I The Supreme See which cannot be judged by any

other— St. Leo, in Nat. SS. Apost.
1 The Church set over and preferred to all the others
! —Victor d'Utiq., in lib. de Perfect
The first of all the Sees — St. Prosper, in lib. de In-

grat.
The Apostolic Fountain— St. Ignatius, Epirt. ad

Rom. in Subscript.

The most secure Citadel of all Catholic Comtimnioa
— Council of Rome under St. Gelasius.

NOTE 7, p. 45.

I have said that the most distinguished Pro
testants have felt the void which is founi in
all sects separated from the Catholic Church.
I am about to give proofs of this assertion,
which perhaps some persons may consider ha
zardous. Luther, writing to Zwinglius, said,
"If the world lasts for a long time, it will ba
again necessary, on account of the dilierent
interpretations which are now giv*- v«> the
Scriptures, to receive the decrees of ""unciis,
and take refuge in them, in order to j>n.-nei »«
the unity of the faith. — Si diutius steterit
mundus, iterutn erit necessarium, propter di.
versas Scripture interpretationes quae nuno
sunt, ad conservandam fidei unitatem, ut con
ciliorum decreta recipiamus, atque ad ea con
fugiamus."

Melancthon, deploring the fatal results ol
the want of spiritual jurisdiction, said, " There
will result from it a liberty useless to the
world ;" and in another place he utters these
remarkable words : " There are required in the
Church inspectors, to maintain order, to ob«
serve attentively those who are called to the
ecclesiastical ministry, to watch over the doc-
trine of priests, and pronounce ecclesiastical
judgments ; so that if bishops did not exist,
it would be necessary to create them. The
monarchy of the Pope would be of great utility
to preserve among such various nations uniform
ity of aoctrine."

Let us hear Calvin : " God has placed the
seat of his worship in the centre of the earth,
and has placed there only one Pontiff, whom
all may regard, the better to preserve unity. —
Cultus sui sedem in m»dio terrae collocavit, illi
unum Antisticein prae fecit, quern omnes respi-
cerent, quo melius in unitate continerentur."-
( Calvin, Imt. 6, g 11.)

"I have also," says Beza, "been long and
greatly tormented by the same thoughts which
you describe to me. I see our people wander
at the mercy of every wind of doctrine, and
after having been raised up, fall sometimes on
one side, and sometimes on the other. What
they think of religion to-day you may know ;
what they will think of it to-morrow you can
not affirm. On what point oj religion are t>
Churches which have declared wn~ against i"
Pope agreed? Examine all, from beginning t«
end, you will hardly find one thing ajjirmed uy
the one which the other does not directly cry out
against as impiety. — Exercuerunt me diu et
multum illae ipsaa quas describis cogitationes.
Video nostros palantes omni doctrinae vento,
et in altum sublatos, rnodo ad hanc, modo ad
illam partem deferri. Horum, quse sit hodie
de religione sententia scire fortasse possis ; sed
quae eras de eadem futura sit upinio, neque tu
certo affirmare queas. In quo tandem reli-
gionis capitecongruunt inter se Ecclesiae, qu»
Romano Pontirici bellum indixerunt? A e»-
pite ad calcem si percurras ornnia, nihil prope

424

NOTES.

modnm reperias ab cao afl5rmari, quod alter
etatim non impu.m esse clamitet." (Th. Bez.
Epint. ad Andream Dudit.)

Grotius, one of the most learned of Protest
ants, also felt the weakness of the foundation
on which the separated sects repose. Many
people have believed that he died a Catholic.
The Protestants accused him of having the
intention of embracing the Roman faith ; and
the Catholics, who had relations with him at
Paris, thought the same thing. It is said that
the celebrated Petau, the friend of Grotius, at
the news of his death, said mass for him ; an
anecdote the truth of which I do not guaran
tee. It is certain that Grotius, in his work
entitled De Antichristo, does not think, with
other Protestants, that the Pope is Antichrist.
It is certain that, in his work entitled Votum
pro Pace Ecclesia:, he says, without circumlo-
...,t;^v, "««.at without the supremacy of the

_,— - impossible to put an end to dis
pute*, ^./d he alleges the example of the
Protestants : " as it happens," says he, " among
the Protestants." It is certain that, in his
posthumous work, Rivetiani Apologetici Dis-
cussio, he openly lays down the fundamental
principle of Catholicity, namely, that "the
dogmas of faith should be decided by tradition
and the authority of the Church, and not by
the holy Scriptures only."

The conversion of the celebrated Protestant
Papin, which made so much noise, is another
proof of what we are endeavoring to show.
Papin reflected on the fundamental principle
of Protestantism, and on the contradiction
which exists between this principle and the
intolerance of Protestants, who, relying only
on private judgment, yet have recourse to
authority for self-preservation. He reasoned
as follows : " If the principle of authority,
which 'they attempt to adopt, is innocent and
legitimate, it condemns their origin, wherein
they refused to submit to the authority of the
Catholic Church ; but if the principle of pri
vate judgment, which they embraced in the
beginning, was right and just, this is enough
to condemn the principle of authority invented
by them for the purpose of avoiding its ex
cesses ; for this principle opens and smooths
the way to the greatest disorders of impiety."

PuiFendorf, who will certainly not be accused
of coldness when attacking Catholicity, could
not help paying his tribute also to the truth,
when, in a confession for which all Catholics
ought to thank him, he says, " The suppres
sion of the authority of the Pope has sowed
endless germs of discord in the world : as
there is no longer any sovereign authority to
^rminate the disputes which arise on all sides,
«e have seen the Protestants split among them
selves, and tear their bowels with their own
hands." (Pufi'endorf, de Monarch. Pont. Ro
man.)

Leibnitz, that great man, who, according to
the expression of Fontenelle, advanced all
•ciences, also acknowledged the weakness of
Protestantism, and the organizing power which
belongs to the Catholic Church. We know
that, far from participating in the anger of
Protestants against the Pope, he regarded the
religious supremacy of Rome with the most
lively sympathy. He openly avows the supe
riority of the Catholic over the Protestant mis

sions ; the religious communities
the objects of so much aversion to so many
people, were to him highly respectable. These
anticipations with respect to the religious idea*
of this great man have been more and more
confirmed by one of his posthumous works,
published for the first time at Paris in 1819.
The Exposition of the Doctrine of Leibnitz on
Religion, followed by Thoughts extracted from
the writings of the same Author, by M. Eme+y,
formerly General Superior of St. Sulpice, con
tains the posthumous work of Leibnitz, where
of the title, in the original manuscript, is,
Theological System. The commencement of
this work, remarkable for its seriousness and
simplicity, is certainly worthy of the great
soul of this distinguished thinker. It is this :
"After having long and profoundly studied
religious controversies, after having implored
the divine assistance, and laid aside, as far aa
it is possible 1'or man, all spirit of party, I
have considered myself as a neophyte come
from the new world, and one who had not yet
•embraced an opinion; behold, therefore, the
conclusions at which I have arrived, and what
appeared to me, out of all that I have exam
ined, worthy to be received by all unprejudiced
men, as what is most conformable to the holy
Scriptures and respectable antiquity ; I will
even say, to right reason and the most certain
historical facts."

Leibnitz afterwards lays down the existence
of God, the Incarnation, the Trinity, and the
other dogmas of Christianity ; he adopts with
candor, and defends with much learning, the
doctrine of the Catholic Church on tradition,
the sacraments, the sacrifice of the Mass, the
respect paid to relics and holy images, the
Church hierarchy, and the supremacy of the
Pope. He adds, " In all cases which do not
admit the delay of the convocation of a gen
eral Council, or which do not deserve to be
considered therein, it must be admitted that
the first of the Bishops, or the Sovereign
Pontiff, has the same power as the whole
Church."

NOTE 8, p. 49.

Some persons may suppose that what we
have said with respect to the emptiness of
human knowledge and the weakness of our
intellect, has been said only for the purpose of
making the necessity of a rule in matters of
faith more sensibly felt. It is not so. It
would be easy for me to insert here a long list
of texts, drawn from the writings of the most
illustrious men of ancient and modern times,
who have insisted upon this very point. I will
only quote here an excellent passage from an
illustrious Spaniard, one of the greatest men
of the sixteenth century, Louis Vives. "Jam
mens ipsa, supremo- animi et celsissima part,
videbit quantopere sit turn natnra sua tarda ac
praipedita, turn tenebris peccati caica, et a doc-
trina, usu, ac solertia imperita et rudis, ut ne
ea quidem qua? videt, quceque manibus contrecfat,
ciijusmodi sint, aut quid Jiant assequatur> '.it Jut*
ut in abdito ilia natura* arcana possit penetrare ;
sapienterque ab Aristotele ilia est posita senten-
tia : Mentem nostram ad manifestissima natura
non aliter habere se, quam noctuce oculum ad
lumen solis. Ea omnia, qua? universum homi-

NOTES.

aum genus n wit, quota aunt pars eorum quno
Ignoramus? Nee solum id in universitate ar-
tium est verum, sed in singulis earum, in
quarum nulla tantum est humanum ingenium
progressum, ut ad medium pervenerit, etiam in
infimis illis ac villissimis; ut nihil existimetur
verius esse dictum ab Academicis quam Scire
nihil." (Ludovic. Vives, de Concordia et Dis-
tordia, lib. iv. c. iii.) So thought this great
man, who, to vast erudition in sacred and pro
fane things, added profound meditation on the
human intellect itself; who followed the pro
gress of the sciences with an observant eye,
and undertook to regenerate them, as his writ
ings prove. I regret that I cannot copy his
words at length, as well those in the passage
which I have just cited, as those of his im
mortal work on the causes of the decline of
the arts and sciences, and on the manner of
teaching them. If any one complain that I
have told some truths as to the weakness of
our minds, and fear lest this should impede the
progress of knowledge by checking its flights,
I will remind him that the best way of promot
ing the progress of our minds is, to give them
a knowledge of themselves. On this point,
the profound sentence of Seneca may be quot
ed : "I know that many persons would have
attained to wisdom, if they had not presumed
that they already possessed it." " Puto multos
ad sapientiam protuisse pervenire, nisi se jam
credcrent pervenisse."

NOTE 9, p. 53.

Dense clouds surround the intellect as soon
as it approaches the first principles of the
sciences. I have said that even the mathe
matics, the clearness and cortainty of which
have become proverbial, are not exempted from
this universal rule. The infinitesimal calcula
tion, which, in the present state of science,
may be said to play the leading part, never
theless depends on a few ideas which, up to
this time, have not been well explained by any
one — ideas with respect to limits. I do not
•wish to throw any doubt on the certainty of
this calculation : I only wish to show, that, if
it were attempted to examine the ideas which
are as it were the elements of it, before the
tribunal of metaphysical philosophy, the con
sequence would be, that shades would be cast
upon their certainty. Without going further
than the elementary part of science, we might
discover some points which would not bear a
continued metaphysical and ideological anal T-
gis without injury : a thing which it would be
very easy to prove by example, if the natu:re
of this work allowed it.^ We may recommend
to the reader on this 'subject, the valuable
letter addressed by the Spanish Jesuit, Exim-
eno, a distinguished philosopher and mathe
matician, to his friend, Juan Andres ; he vill
there find some appropriate observations made
by a man who certainly will not be rejected on
the ground of incompetency. It is in Latin,
and is called Epistola ad clarisaimum virum
foannem Andresium

As to the other sciences, it is not necessary
to say much to prove that their first principles
are surrounded with darkness; and it n..,.y be
laid that the brilliant reveries of the • ost
illustrious men have had no other sourc r IPU
ihia very obgc -ritj

of thfiir own strength, these men pursued truth
even to the abyss ; there, to use the expression
of an illustrious contemporary poet, the torch
was extinguished in their hands; lost in an
obscure labyrinth, they were then abandoned
to t*io mercy of their fancies and inspirations ;
it was thus that reality gave place to the beau
tiful dreams of their genius.

NOTE 10, p. 54.

Nothing is better for understanding and ex
plaining the innate weakness of the human
mind, than to survey the history of heresies ;
a history which we owe to the Church, to the
extreme care which she has taken to define and
classify errors. From Simon Magus, who called
himself the legislator of the Jews, the reno
vator of the world, and the paraclete, while
paying a worship of latria to his mistress
Helena, under the name of Minerva, down to
Hermann, preaching the massacre of all the
priests and all the magistrates of the world,
and affirming that he was the real son of God;
a vast picture, very unpleasant to behold, I
acknowledge, if it were only on account of the
extravagances with which it abounds, preuenta
itself to the observer, and suggests to him
very grave and profound reflections on the
real character of the human mind ; there it is
easy to see the wisdom of Catholicity, in at
tempting, in certain cases, to subject this in
constant spirit to rule.

NOTE 11, p. 57.

If any persons find difficulty in persuading
themselves that illusion and fanaticism are, an
it were, in their proper element among Pro.
testants, behold the irresistible testimony of
facts in aid of our assertion. This subject
would furnish large volumes; but I must be
content with a rapid glance. I begin with
Luther. Is it possible to carry raving further
than to pretend to have been taught by the
devil, to boast of it, and to found new doc
trines on so powerful an authority 1 Yet this
was the raving of Luther himself, the founder
of Protestantism, who has left us in his works
the evidence of his interview with Satan. —
Whether the apparition was real, or produced
by the dreams of a night agitated by fever, it
is impossible to carry fanaticism further than
to boast of having had such a master. Luther
tells us himself that he had many colloquies
with the devil ; but what is above all worthy
of attention is, the vision in which, as he
relates in the most serious manner, Satan, by
his arguments, compelled him to proscribe
private masses. He gives us a lively descrip
tion of this adventure. He wakes in the mid
dle of the night; Satan appears to him. —
LutJier is seized with horror; he sweats, he
treu.bles ; his heart beats in a fearful manner.
Nevertheless the discussion begins, and the
devil, like a good disputant, presses him so
hard with his arguments, that he leaves him
without reply. Luther is conquered; which
ought not to astonish us, since he tells us that
the logic of the devil was accompanied by a
voice so alarming, that the blood froze in his

veins. " I then understood," says this wretch
ed being, " how it often happens that people

Lad away by the feel;-^ ' die at the break of day ; it is because the devij
* L 2

426

NOTES.

la able to kill or suffocate men; and without
going so far as that, when he disputes with
them, he places them in such embarrassment,
that he can thus occasion their death. I have
often experienced this myself." This passage
is certainly curious.

The phantom which appeared to Zwinglius,
the founder of Protestantism in Switzerland,
affoids us another example of extravagance no
less absurd. This heresiarch wished to deny
the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucha
rist; he pretended that what exists under
the consecrated species is only a sign. As the
authority of the sacred text, which clearly ex
presses the contrary, embarrassed him, behold,
suddenly, at the moment when he imagined
that he was disputing with the secretary of the
town, a white or black phantom, so he tells us
himself, appeared to him, and showed him a
means. This pleasant anecdote we have from
Zwinglius.himself.

Who does not regret to see such a man as
Melancthon also given up to the prejudices and
manias of the most ridiculous superstition,
stupidly credulous with respect to dreams, ex
traordinary phenomena, and astrological prog
nostics ? Read his letters, which are filled
with such pitiful things. At the time when
the diet of Augsburg was held, Melancthon
regarded as favourable presages for the new
gospel an inundation of the Tiber, the birth at
Rome of a monstrous mule with a crane's foot,
and that of a calf with two heads in the terri
tory of Augsburg, — events which to him were
the undoubted announcements of a change in
the universe, and particularly of the approach
ing ruin of Rome by the power of schism. He
himself makes the horoscope of his daughter,
and he trembles for her because Mars presents
an alarming aspect; he is not the less alarmed
at the tail of a comet appearing within the
limits of the north. The astrologers had pre
dicted that in autumn the stars would be more
favorable to ecclesiastical disputes ; this prog
nostic sufficed to console him for the slowness
of the conferences of Augsburg on the subject
of religion : we see, moreover, that his friends
—that is, the leaders of the party — allowed
themselves to be ruled by the same powerful
reasons. As if he had not troubles enough,
it is predicted that Melancthon will be ship
wrecked in the Baltic; he avoids sailing on
those fatal waters. Certain Franciscans had
prophesied that the power of the Pope was
about to decline, and then to fall for ever ; also
that, in the year 1600, the Turks were to be
come masters of Italy and Germany; Melanc
thon boasts of having the original prophecy in
his possession ; moreover, the earthquakes
which occur confirm him in his belief.

The human mind had but just set itself up
as the only judge of faith, when the atrocities
of the most furious fanaticism already inun
dated Ihrinany with blood. Mathias Harlem,
the Anaoaptist, at the head of a ferocious troop,
orders the churches to be sacked, the sacred
ornaments to be broken in pieces, and all
books, except the Bible, to be burnt, as impi
ous or useless. Established at Munster, which
lie calls Mont Sion, he causes all the gold,
silver, and precious stones possessed by the
inhabitants to be brought to him, and places
them in a common treasury, and names deacons

to distribute them. All his disciples are con,-
pelled to eat in common, to live in porfect
equality, and to prepare for the war whish they
would have to undertake, quitting Mount Sion<
as he himself said, to subject all the nations of
the earth to his power. He at length dies in a
rash attempt, wherein, like another Gideon,
he undertook nothing less than to exterminate
the army of the impious with a handful of
men. Mathias immediately found an h'eir to
his fanaticism in Becold, perhaps better known
under the name of John of Leyden. This
fanatic, a tailor by trade, ran naked through
the streets of Munster, crying out, " Behold, the
kiny of Sion comes." He returned to his house,
shut himself up there for three days; and
when the people came to inquire for him, he
pretended that he could not speak ; like another
Zachary, he made signs that he wanted writ
ing materials, and wrote that it had been re
vealed to him by God, that the people should
be governed by judges, in imitation of the
people of Israel. He named twelve judges,
choosing the men who were the most attached
to himself; and until the authority of the new
magistrates had been acknowledged, he took
the precaution not to allow himself to be seen
by any body. Already was the authority of
the new prophet secured in a certain manner;
but not cuntent with the real command, he
desired to surround himself with pomp and
majesty ; he proposed nothing less than to
have himself proclaimed king. Now the blind
ness of the sectarian fanatics was so great,
that it was not difficult for him to complete his
mad enterprise ; it was enough for him to play
off a gross farce. A goldsmith who had an
understanding with the aspirant to royalty,
and was also initiated in the art of prophecy,
presented himself before the judges of Israel,
and spoke to them thus : " Behold, this is the
will of the Juord God, the Eternal : as in other
times I established Saul over Israel, and after
him David, who was only a simple shepherd,
so I now establish my prophet Becold king of
Sion." The judges would not resolve on ab
dication ; but Becold assured them that he also
had had the same vision, that he had concealed
it from humility, but that God having spoken
by another prophet, it was necessary for him
to resign himself to mount the throne, and
accomplish the orders of the Most High. The
judges persisted in wishing to call the people
together; they assembled in the market-place;
there & prophet, on the part of God, presented
to Becold a drawn sword, as a sign of the
power of justice, which was conferred on him
over all the earth, to extend to the four quarters
of the world the empire of Sion ; he was pro
claimed king with the most boisterous joy, and
solemnly crowned on the 24th of June, 1534.
As he had espoused the wife of his predeces
sor, he raised her to the royal dignity; but
while reserving to her the exclusive privilege
of being queen, he continued to have seven
teen wives, in conformity with the holy liberty
which he had proclaimed in this matter. The
orgies, assassinations, atrocities, and ravings
of all kinds which followed cannot be related;
it may be affirmed that the sixteen months of
the reign of this madman were only a series
of crimes. The Catholics cried out against
such horrible excesses. The Protestants cried

NOTES.

127

out also; bat who WM to blame ? Was it not
they who, after having proclaimed resistance
to the authority of the Church, had thrown
the Bible into the midst of these wretched
men, at ihe risk of their heads being turned
by the ravings of individual interpretation,
vnd of precipitating them into projects as
criminal as they were senseless? The Ana
baptists were well aware of this ; and they
were exceedingly indignant with Luther, who
condemned them m his writings; and indeed,
what right had he, who had established the
principle, to desire to check its consequences ?
If Luther found in the Bible that the Pope
was Antichrist, if he arrogated to himself, of
his own authority, the mission of destroying
the reign of the Pope, by exhorting all the
world to conspire against him, why could not
the Anabaptists say, in their turn, that they had
intercourse with God, and had received the order
to exterminate all the wicked, and to establish
j, new kingdom, in which were to be keen only
wise, pious, and innocent men, having become
'he masters of all things.

Hermann preaching the massacre of all the
priests and all the magistrates of the world ;
David George proclaiming that his doctrine
alone was perfect, that that of the Old and New
Testaments icas imperfect, and that he was the
true Son of God; Nicholas rejecting faith and
worship as useless, treading under foot the
fundamental precepts of morality, and teaching
that it was good to continue in sin, that grace
might abound; Hacket pretending that the
spirit of the Messiah had descended upon him,
and .-ending two of his disciples to cry out in
the streets of London, "Behold Christ coming
here with a vase in his hand!" Hacket him
self crying out, at the sight of the gibbet, and
in the agony of punishment, "Jehovah! Je
hovah ! do you not see that the heavens open,
and that Jesus Christ comes to deliver me ?"
are E >t all these deplorable spectacles, and a
bundled others that I might mention, proofs
sufficiently evident that the Protestant system
nourisl-es and inflames a fearful fanaticism?
Venner, Fox, William Simpson, J. Naylor,
Count Zinzendorf, Wesley, Baron Swedenborg,
and other similar names, are sufficient to re
mind us of an assemblage of sects so extrava
gant, and a series of crimed such as would fill
volumes, which would afford us the most ridi
culous and the most odious pictures, the greatest
miseries and the most deplorable errors of the
human mind. I have not invented or exag
gerated. Open history, consult authors — I do
not mean Catholics, but Protestants, or what
ever they may be — and you will every where
find a multitude of witnesses who depose to
the truth of these facts ; notorious facts, which
have taken place in the light of day, in great
capitals, and in times bordering on our own ;
and let it not be supposed that this abundant
lource of illusion and fanaticism has been
exhausted in the course of ages ; it does not
seem that it is yet near being dried up, and
Europe appears condemned to hear the recital
o ' visions, such as those of Baron Swedenborg
in the inn in London ; and we shall still see
passports for heaven with three seals given out,
>ikv thore of Johanna Souttrote.

NOTX 12, p. 60.

Nothing is more palpab'e than the difference
which exists on this point between Protestants
and Catholics. On both sides there are persons
who consider themselves to be favored with
heavenly visions; but these visions render
Protestants proud, turbulent, and raving mad,
while among Catholics they increase the spirit
of humility, peace, and love. Even in that very
sixteenth century, in which the fanaticism of
the Protestants agitated and stained Europe
with blood, there lived in Spain a woman who,
in the judgment of unbelievers and Protes
tants, is certainly one of those who have been
the most deeply infected with illusion and
fanaticism ; but has the supposed fanaticism of
this woman ever caused the spilling of a drop
of blood, or the shedding of a tear ? Were
her visions, like those cf Protestants, orders
from heaven for the extermination of men?
After the desolate and horrible picture which
I have given in the preceding note, perhap"
the reader will be glad to let his eyes rest
upon a spectacle as peaceful as it is beautiful.
It is St. Theresa writing her own life out of
pure obedience, and relating to us her visionu
with angelic candor and ineffable sweetness.
"The Lord (she says) willed that I should oncu
have this vision I saw near to me, on the left
hand, an angel in a corporeal form ; thia is
what I do not usually see, except by a prodigy ;
although angels often present themselves to
me without my seeing them, as I have said in
the preceding vision. In this the Lord willed
that I should see him in the following manner :
he was not tall, but small and very beautiful,
his face all in a flame, and he seemed to be one
of the angels very high in the hierarchy, who
apparently are all on fire. Without doubt, he
was one of those who are called seraphim. —
These angels do not tell me their names ; but
I clearly see that there is so great a difference
among the angels, between some and others,
that I do not know how to express it. I saw
in his hands a long dart of gold, which ap
peared to me to have some fire at the end of
the point. It seemed to me that the angel
! buried this dart from time to time in my heart,
and made it penetrate to my bowels, and that
when withdrawing it, he carried them away,
leaving me all inflamed with a great love of
God." (Vie de St. Thercse, c. xxix. no. 11.)
Another example : "At this moment I see on
my head a dove very different from those of
earth ; for this one had no feathers, but wings
as it were of the shell of mother of pearl,
which shone brightly. It was larger than a
dove ; it seemed to me that I heard the noise
of its wings. It moved them almost for the
time of an Ave Maria. The soul was already
in such a condition that, herself swooning
away, she also lost sight of this dieine dove
The mind grew tranquil with the presence of
such a guest, although it seemed to me that so
wonderful a favor ought to fill it with per
turbation and alarm ; but as the soul began to
enjoy it, fear departed, repose caine with en
joyment, and the mind retrained in tcstacy."
( Vie, c. xxviii. no. 7.) It would be difficult
to find any thing more beautiful, expressed in
| more lively colors, ai d with a more atniabla
! simplicity. It will no be out of place to copy

428

NOTES.

aere twc otler passages of a different kind,
which, while they enforce what we wish to
anew, may contribute to awaken the taste of
our nation for a certain class of Spanish
writers, who are every day falling into obliv
ion with us, while foreigners seek for them
with eagerness, and publish handsome editions
of them. " I was once at office with all the
rest; my soul was suddenly fixed in attention,
and it seemed to me to be entirely as a clear
mirror without reverse or side, neither high
nor low, but shining every where. In the
midst of it, Christ our Saviour presented him
self to me, as I am accustomed to see Him.
He appeared to me to be at once in all parts
of my soul. I saw Him as in a clear mirror,
and this mirror also (I cannot say how) was
entirely imprinted on our Lord himself, by a
communication which I cannot describe — a
communication full of love. I know that this
vision has been of great advantage to me every
time that I recollect it, principally when I
have just received communion. I was given
to understand that when a soul is in a state of
mortal sin, this mirror is covered with great
darkness, and is extremely obscure, so that our
Lord cannot appear or be seen therein, although
He is always present as giving being ; as to
heretics, it is as if the mirror were broken,
which is much worse than if it were obscured.
There is a great difference between seeing this
and telling it ; it is difficult to make such a
thing understood. I repeat, that this has been
very profitable to me, and also very afflicting,
on account of the view of the various offences
by which I have obscured my soul, and have
been deprived of seeing my Lord." ( Vie, c.
xL no. 4.)

In another place she explains a manner of
seeing things in God ; she represents the idea
by an image so brilliant and sublime, that we
appear to be reading Malebranche, when de
veloping his famous system.

" We say that the Divinity is like a bright
diamond, infinitely larger than the world; or
rather like a mirror, as I have said of the soul
in another vision; except that here it is in a
manner so sublime, that I know not how to
exalt it sufficiently. All that we do is seen in
this diamond, which contains all in itself; for
there is nothing which is not comprised in so
great a magnitude. It was alarming to me to
Bee in so short a time so many things assembled
in this bright diamond ; and I am profoundly
afflicted every time that I think that things so
shocking as my sins appeared to me in this
most pure brightness." ( Vie, c. xl. no. 7.)

Let us now suppose, with Protestants, that
all these visions were only pure illusions : at
least it is evident that they do not pervert ideas,
corrupt morals, or disturb public order; and
assuredly, had they served only to inspire these
beautiful pages, we should not know how to
regret the illusion. This is a confirmation of
what I have said of tho salutary effects which
the Catholic principle produces in souls, by
preventing them from being blinded by pride,
or throwing themselves into dangerous courses.
This principle confines them to a sphere where
it is impossible for them to injure any one ; but
il does not deprive them of any of their force
f energy to do good, supposing that the in-
•piratk n is real. Although it would have been

easy for me to cite a thousand examples, I wat
compelled, for the sake of brevity, to confine
myself to one, when selecting St. Theresa ai
one of those who an the most distinguished in
this respect, and because she was contemporary
with the great aberrations of Protestantism. In
fine, as she was a daughter of Spain, I seized
the opportunity of recalling her to the memo
ries of Spaniards, who begin too much to fcrget
her.

NOTE 13, p. 64.

Some of the leaders of the Reformation hara
left suspicions that they taught with insincerity,
that they did not themselves believe what they
preached, and that they had no other object
than to deceive their proselytes. As I am un
willing to have it imputed to me that I have
made this accusation rashly, I will adduce
some proofs in support of my assertion. Let
us hear Luther himself. " Often," he says,
"do I think within myself that I scarcely
know where I am, and whether I teach the
truth or not (Saepe sic mecum cogito, prope-
modum nescio, quo loco sim, et utrum verita-
tem doceam, necne)." (Luther, Col. Isleb. de
Christo.) And it is the same man who said:
"It is certain that I have received my dogmas
from heaven. I will not allow you to judge of
my doctrine, neither you nor even the angela
of heaven (Certum est dogmata mea habere
me de ccelo. Non sinam vel vos vel ipsos
angelos de ccelo de mea doctrina judicare)."
(Luther, contra Reg. Any.) John Matthei, the
author of many writings on the life of Luther,
and who is not scanty in eulogies on the
heresiarch, has preserved a very curious anec
dote touching the convictions of Luther. It
is this: "A preacher called John Musa re
lated to me that he one day complained to
Luther that he could not prevail on himself to
believe what he taught to others : 'Blessed be
God (said Luther) that the same thing happens
to others as to myself: I believed till now that
THAT was a thing which happened only to me.' "
(Johann. Matthesius, cone. 12.)

The doctrines of infidelity were not long de
layed ; but would it be believed that they are
found expressed in various parts of Luther's
own works ? " It is likely," says he, speaking
of the dead, "that, except a few, they all sleep
deprived of feeling." "I think that the dead
are buried in so ineffable and wonderful a sleep,
that they feel or see less than those who sleep
an ordinary sleep." " The souls of the dead
enter neither into purgatory nor into hell."
" The human soul sleeps ; all its senses buried."
"There is no suffering in the abode of the
dead." (" Verisimile est, exceptis paucis, om-
nes dormire insensibiles." " Ego puto mortuoa
sic ineffabili et miro somno sopitos, ut minus
sentiant aut videant, quam hi qui alias dormi-
unt." "Animae mortuorum non ingrediuntur
in purgatorium nee infernuin." "Animahu-
mana dormit, omnibus sensibus sepultis."
"Mortuorum locus cruciatus nullos habet.")
Tom. ii. Epist. Lat. Isleb. fol. 44 ; t. vi Lot.
Wittenberg, in cap. ii., cap. zxiii., c. xxv., c.
xlii. et xlix. Genes, et t. iv. Lat. Wittenberg,
fol. 109.) Persons were not wanting ready
to receive such doctrines; and this teaching
caused such ravages, that the Lutheran Brent-

NOTES.

429

•en, disciple and successor of Luther, hesitates
not to say : "Although no one among us public-
Ill prof ease* that the soul perishes with the body,
and that there is no resurrection of the dead,
nevertheless the impure and wholly profane lives
which they for the moat part lead, show very
clearly that they do not believe that there is
another life. Some even allow words of this
kind to escape them, not only in the intoxication
of libations, but even when fasting, in their fa
miliar intercourse. (Et si inter nos nulla sit
publica professio quod aniina simul cum cor-
pore intereat, et quod non sit mortuorum
resurrectio, tamen iinpurissima et profanissima
ilia vita, quam maxima pars hoininum sectatur,
perspicue indicat quod non sentiat vitam post
hanc. Nonnullis etiain tales voces, tarn ebriis
inter pocula, quam sobriis in fainiliaribus col-
loquiis.)" (Brentius, Horn. 35, in cap. 20, Luc.)
There were in this same sixteenth ceritury
some men who cared not to give their names
to this or that sect, but who professed infidelity
and scepticism without disguise. We know
that the famous Gruet paid with his head for
his boldness in this way ; and it was ftot the
Catholics who cut it off, but the Calvinists,
who were offended that this unhappy man had
taken the liberty to paint the character and
conduct of Calvin in their true colors. Gruet
had also committed the crime ot posting up
placards at Geneva, in which he charged the
pretended reformers with inconsistency, on
account of the tyranny which they attempted
to exercise over consciences, after having
shaken off the yoke of authority on their own
account. This took place soon after the birth of
Protestantism, as the sentence on Gruet was
executed in 1549.

Montaigne, who has been pointed out as one
of the first sceptics who acquired reputation in
Europe, carries the thing so far, that he does
not even admit the natuial law. " They are
not serious (he says) when, to (jive some certainty
to laios, they say that there are any laics fixed,
perpetual, and immutable, which they call natu
ral, which are impressed on the human race by
the condition of their peculiar essence." (Mon
taigne, Ess. 1. ii. c. 12.)

We have already seen what Luther thought
of death, or at least the expression which
escaped him on this subject ; and we cannot
be astonished after that, that Montaigne wished
to die like a real unbeliever, and that he says,
speaking of the terrible passage : " / plunge
my head, insensibly sunk in death, without con
sidering or observing it, as in a silent and ob-
tcure depth, which swallows me up at once,
ntifles me in a moment with powerful sleep full
of insipidity^ and indolence." (Montaigne, 1.
iii. c. 9.) But this man, who wished that death
should find him planting his cabbages, and
without thinking of it (Je veux que la mort me
trouve plantant mes choux, mais sans me soucier
cfelle), was not of the same opinion in his last
moments. When he was near breathing his
last, he wished that the holy sacrifice of the
Mass should be celebrated in his apartment,
and he expired while making an effort to raise
nimself on his bed, in the act of adoring the
sacred Host. We see that he had profited in
his heart by some of his ideas with respect to
the Christian religion. " It is pride," he had
•aid, ' that leads man out of the common path,

and urges him to embrace novelties, loving
rather to be the chief of a wandering aad un
disciplined band, than t/> be a disciple of the
school of truth." In another pla"e, at once
condemning all the dissenting sects, he ha4
said, " In religious matters it is necessary to
adhere to those who are the established judgei
of doctrine, and who have legitimate authority,
not to the most learned and the cleverest."

From all that I have just said, it is clear
that if I accuse Protestantism of having been
one of the principal causes of infidelity in
Europe, I do not accuse it without reason.
I repeat here, that it is by no means my inten
tion to overlook the efforts of some Protestants
to oppose infidelity ; I do not assail persons,
but things, and I honor merit wherever I find
it. In fine, I will add, that if at the end of
the seventeenth century a considerable number
of Protestants displayed a tendency towards
Catholicity, we must seek the reason for it in
the progress which they saw infidelity making,
— a progress which it was impossible to check,
at least without holding fast to the anchor of
authority which the Catholic Church offered to
the whole world. I cannot, without exceeding
the limits which I have marked out for myself,
give a circumstantial detail of the correspon
dence between Molanus and the Bishop of
Tyria, of Leibnitz and Bossuet. Readers who
desire to become thoroughly acquainted with
that affair, may examine it partly in the works
of Bossuet himself, and partly in the interest
ing work of M. de Beausset, prefixed to some
editions of Bossuet.

NOTE 14, p. 86.

In order to form an idea of the state of
knowledge at the time of the appearance of
Christianity, and become convinced that there
was nothing to be expected from the human
mind abandoned to its own strength, it is
enough to recall to mind the monstrous sects
which every where abounded in the first ages
of the Church, the doctrines whereof fanned
the most shapeless, extravagant, and immoral
compound that it is possible to conceive. The
names of Cerinthus, Menander, Ebion, Satur-
ninus, Basilides, Nicolas, Carpocrates, Valen-
tinus, Marcion, Montanus, and so many others,
remind us of the sects in which delirium was
connected with immorality. When we throw
a glance over these philosophico-religious sects,
we see that they were capable neither of con
ceiving a philosophical system with any degree
of concert, nor of imagining a collection of
doctrines and practices to which the name of
religion can be applied. These men overturned,
mixed, and confounded all ; Judaism, Chris
tianity, and the recollections of the ancient
schools, were all amalgamated in their deluded
heads ; what they never forgot was, to give a
loose rein to all kinds of corruption and ob
scenity.

In the spectacle of these ages, a wide field
is opened to the conjectures of true philosophy
What would have become of human knowl
edge, if Christianity had not come to enlighten
the world with her celestial doctrines ; if that
divine religion, confounding the foolish pride
of man, had not come to show him how v»i«
and senseless were his thoughts, and how far

430

NOTES.

he was removed from the path of truth ? It
IB remarkable that these same men, whose
aberrations make us shudder, gave themselves
the name of Gnostics, on account of the
gupurior knowledge with which they supposed
themselves to be endowed. We see that man
is at all times the same.

NOTE 15, p. 115.

I have thought that it would not be useless
to transcribe here, word for word, the canons
which I have mentioned in the text. My
readers may thereby acquire for themselves a
complete knowledge of what is found there ;
and there will be no room left to suppose that
the real sense of the regulations has been
perverted in the extracts which I have given.

CANONS AND OTHER DOCUMENTS,

Which show the solicitude of the Church to
improve the lot of slaves, and the various
means she has used to accomplish the aboli
tion of slavery :

A penance is imposed on the mistress who
maltreats her slave (ancillam).

(Concilium Eliberitanum, anno 305.)
" Si qua domina furore zeli accensa flagris
verberaverit ancillam suam, ita ut in tertium
diem animam cum cruciatu effundat ; eo quod
incertum sit, voluntate an casu occiderit; si
voluntate, post septem annos, si casu, post
quinquennii tempora, acta legitima poenttentia,
ad comuiunionem placuit admitti. Quod si
infra tempora constituta fuerit innrmata, acci-
piat communionem." (Canon 5.)

It must be observed, that the word ' ancil
lam ' means a slave properly so called, and
not any kind of servant. This appears, indeed,
from the words flagris verberaverit, which ex
press a chastisement reserved for slaves.

They excommunicate the master who, of his own
authority, beats his slave to death.

(Concilium Epaoense, anuo 517.)
" Si quis servum proprium sine conscientia
judicis occiderit,. excominunicatione biennii
effusionein sanguinis expiabit." (Canon 34.)

This same regulation is repeated in the 15th
canon of the 17th Council of Toledo, held in
694 ; even the words of the Council of Epaon
are there copied with very slight change.

(Ibid.) The slave guilty of an atrocious crime
was to escape corporeal punishments by taking
refuge in a church.

" Servus reatu atrociore culpabilis si ad ec-
•jlesiam confugerit, a corporabilibus tantum
-rappliciis excusetur. De capillis vero, vel
.quocumque opere, placuit, a dominis juramenta
non exigi." (Canon 39.)

Vsry remarkable precautiont to prevent matters
from maltreating the slave* who had taken
refuge in church/is.

(Concilium Aurelianense quintum, anno 549.)
" De servis vero, qui pro qualibet culpa ad
icclesise septa confugerint, id statuimus ob-
rervai.dam, ut, sicut in antiquis constitutioni-

bus tenetur scriptum, pro concessa culpa da til
a domino sacramentis, quisquis ille fuerit, ex-
pediatur de venia jam securus. Enim vero si
immemor ficlei dominus trascend'sse convinci-
tur quod juravit, ut is qui veniam acceperat,
probetur postmodum pro ea culpa qualicumque
supplicio cruciatus, dominus ille qui immemcr
fuit datae fidei, sit ab omnium communions
suspensus. Iterum si servus de promissione
venire datis sacramentis a domino jam seourug
exire noluerit, ne sub tali contumacia requirena
locum fugas, domino fortasse dispereat, egredi
nolentem a domino eum liceat occupari, ut
nullam, quasi pro retentatione servi, quibusli-
bet modis molestiam aut calumniain patiatur
ecclesia : fidem tamen dominus, quain pro con
cessa venia dedit, nulla temeritate transcendat.
Quod si aut gentilis dominus fuerit, aut alterius «
sectae, qui a conventu ecclesiae probatur ex-
traneus, is qui servum repetit, personas requirat
bonae fidei Christianas, ut ipsi in persona
domini servo praebeant sacramenta : quia ipsi
possunt servare quod sacrum est, qui pro trana-
gressione ecclesiasticuin metuunt disciplinam."
(Canon* 22.)

It is difficult to carry solicitude for the lot
of slaves further. This document is very
curious.

They forbid bishops to mutilate their slaves ;
they order that the duty of chastising them
should be left to the judge of the town, who,
nevertheless, could not cut off their hair, a
punishment which was considered too ignomi
nious.

(Coucilium Emeritense, anno 666.)
" Si regalis pietas pro salute omnium suarum
legum dignata est ponere decreta, cur religid
sancta per sancti concilii ordinem non habeat
instituta, quae omnino debent esse cavenda?
Ideoque placuit huic sancto concilio, ut oinnia
potestas episcopalis modum suae ponat irae ;
nee pro quolibet excessu cuilibet ex familia,
ecclesiae aliquod corporis membrorum sua
ordinatione praasumat extirpare aut auferre.
Quod si tails emerserit culpa, advocate judice
civitatis, ad examen ejus deducatur quod fac-
tum fuisse asseritur. Et quia omnino justum
est, ut pontifex saevissimam non impendat vin-
dictam ; quidquid coram judice verius patuerit,
per disciplines severitatem absque turpi decal
vatione maneat emendatum." (Canon 15.)

Priests are forbidden to have their slavet

mutilated.
(Concilium Toletanum undecimum, anno 675.)

" His a quibus domini sacramenta tractanda
sunt, judicium sanguinis agitare non licet : e%
ideo ma gn opere talium excessibus prohibenduir
est, ne indiscretae praesumptionis motibus agi«
tati, aut quod morte plectendum est, sententia
propria judicare praesumant, aut truncationea
quaslibet membrorum quibuslibet personis au*
per se inferant, aut inferendas prpecipiant.
Quod si quisquam horum immemor prascepto-
rum, aut ecclesiae suae familiis, aut in quibusli
bet personis tale quid fecerit, et concessi ordinU
honore privatus, et loco suo, perpetuo damna-
tionis teneatur religatus ergastulo : cui tamen
communio exeunti ex hac vita non neganda
est, propter domini misericordiam, qui non vuU
peccatoris mortem, sed ut convertatur et mvnt."
(Canon 6.)

NOTES.

It should be remarked, that the word fami-
lia. employed in the two last canons which
we have just cited, should be understood of
Fhi\es. The real meaning of this word is
clearly shown us by the 74th canon of the 4th
Council of Toledo.

" De fiuniliis ecclesiae constituere presbyte-
ros et diaconos per parochias liceat ..... ea
tamen ratione ut antea manumissi libertatem
itntus sui percipiant.

We see this word employed in the same
•ense by Pope St. Gregory. (Epist. xliv. 1. 4.)

A. penance is imposed on the master who kills
his slave of his own authority.

(Concilium Wormatiense, anno 868.)
" Si quis servum proprium sine conscientia
judicum qui tale quid commiserit, quod inorte
sit dignum, occiderit, excommunicatione vel
poenitentia biennii, reatum sanguinis emenda-
bit." (Canon 38.)

" Si qua femina furore zeli accensa, flagris
verberaverit ancillam suam, ita ut iutra terti-
um diem animam suam cum cruciatu eflundat,
eo quod incertum sit voluntate, an casu occi
derit ; si voluntate, septem annos, si casu, per
quinque annorum tempora legitimam peragat
poenitentiam." (Canon 39.)

They check the violence of those who, to revenge
themselves for the asylum granted to slaves,
take 2^>f)8>iession of the goods of the Church.

(Concilium Arausicanum primum, anno 441.)
"Si quis autem mancipia clericorum pro
uuis mancipiis ad ecclesiam fugientibus credi-
derit occupanda, per omnes ecclesias districtis-
eima damnatione feriatur." (Canon 6.)

(Ibid.) They check all attempts made against
the liberty of slaves enfranchised by the
Church, or who have been recommended to her
by will.

"In ecelesia manumissos, vel per testamen-
tum ecclesiae commendatos, si quis in servitu-
tem, vel obscquium, vel ad colonariam conditio-
nein imprimere tentaverit, animadversione ec-
clesiastica coerceatur." (Canon 7.)

They secure the liberty of those who have re
ceived the benefit of manumission in the
Churches. Tlie latter are enjoined to take
upon themselves the defence of the enfran
chised.

(Concilium quintum Aurelianeuse, anno 549.)
" Et quia plurimorum suggestione comperi-
mus, eos qui in ecclesiis juxta patrioticam
consuetudinem a servitiis fuerunt absoluti, pro
libito quorumcumque iterum ad servitium revo-
cari, impium esso tractavimus, ut quod in ec
elesia Dei consideratione a vinculo servitutis
absolvitur, irritum habeatur. Ideo pietatis
causa communi concilio placuit observandum,
ut qufccumque mancipia ab ingenuis dominis
eervitute laxantur, in ea libertate maneant,
quam tune a dominis porceperunt. Hujus-
modi quoque libertas si a quocumque pulsata
faerit, cum justitia ab esclesiis defendatur,
praeter eas culpas, pro quibus leges collatas
•enris rwocare jusserunt liberties." ( Canon
f.)

The Church is charged with the defe*tce vf th«
enfranchised, whether they \ave been emanci
pated icithin her enclosure, whether they have
been so by letter or testumeiit, or have gained
their liberty by prescription. They restrain
the arbitrariness of the Judges toicarda these
unfortunate persons. It is decided that the
JJiehops fhall take cognizance of these causes.

(Concilium Matisconense seeundum, anno 585.)
" Qua; dum postea universo coetui secunduu
cousuetudinem recitata innotescerent. Praetex-
tatus et Pappulus viri beatissimi dixerunt.
Decernat itaque, et de miseris libertis vestrae
auctoritatis vigor insignis, qui ideo plus a ju-
dicibus affliguntur, quia sacris suntcoinmendati
ecclesiis : ut si quas quispiam dixerit contra
eos actiones habere, non audeat eos magi stra
tus contradere ; sed in episcopi tantum judicio,
in cujus praisentia litem contestans, quse sunt
justitiaj ac veritatis audiau Indignum est
enim, ut hi qui in sacrosancta ecelesia jure
noscuntur legitimo mariumissi, aut per episto-
lam, aut per testamentum, aut per longinqui-
tatem temporis libertatis jure i'ruuntur, a quo-
libet injustissime inquietentur. Universa sa-
cerdotalis Congregatio dixit: Justum est, ut
contra calumniatorum omnium versutias de-
fendantur, qui patrocinium immortalis ecclesise
concupiscunt. Et quicumque a nobis de libertis
latum decretum, superbia? ausu prsevaricare
tentaverit, irreparabili damnationis suaa sen-

j tentia feriatur. Sed si placuerit episcopo
ordinariuin judicem, aut quemlibet alium saecu-

I larem, in audientiam eorum accersiri, cum
libuerit fiat, et nullus alius audeat causas
pertractare libertorum nisi episcopus cujue
interest, aut is cui idem audiendum tradiderit"
(Canon 7.)

The defence of the freed is confided to the priettf
(Concilium Parisiense quintum, anno 614.)

"Liberti quorumcumque ingenuonim a sacer-
dotibus defensentur, nee ad publicum ulteriua
revocentur. Quod si quis ausu temerario eos
imprimere voluerit, aut ad publicum revocare,
et admonitus per pontificem ad audientiam
venire neglexerit, aut emendare quod perpe-
travit distulerit, communione privetur." (Ca
non 5.)

The enfranchised recommended to the Churche*
shall be protected by the Bishops.

(Concilium Toletanum tertium, anno 589.)

" De libertis autem id Dei praecipiunt sacer-
dotes, ut si qui ab episcopis fa,cti sunt secundum
modum quo canones antiqui dantlicentiam,sint
liberi; et tantum a patrocinio ecclesiae tarn ipsj
quam ab eis progeniti non recedant. Ab aliia
quoque libertati traditi, et ecclesiis commen-
dati, patrocinio episcopali tegantur, a principe
hoc episcopus postulet." (Canon 6.)

The Church undertakes to defend the liberty
and the property acquired by industry of tht
enfranchised who have been recommended to
her.

(Concilium Toletanum qnartum, anno 633.)

" Liberti qui a quibuscumque manumissi sunt,
atque ecclesiae patrocinio commendati existunt,
sicut regulse antiquoruin patruu? constitueruni-

NOTES.

Bacon lotali defensione i cujuslibet insolentia
protegautur; give in statu libertatis eorum, seu
in i jculio quod habere noscuntur." (Cap. 72.)

The Church will defend the enfranchised : a re
gulation which does not distinguish whether
they k<ioe been recommended to her or not.

(Concilium Agathense, anno 506.)

" Libertos legitime a dominis suis factos ec-
olesia, si necessitas exegerit, tueatur ; quod si
quis ante audientiam, aut pervadere, aut expo-
Hare praesumpserit, ab ecclesia repellatur."
(Canon 29.)

gUL

The Church shall regard the ransom of captives
as her first, care ; she shall give their interests
the preference over her own, however bad may
be the state of her affairs.

" Sicut omnino srrave est, frustra ecclesiastica
tninisteria venundare, sic iterum culpa est, im-
ininente hujusmodi necessitate, res maxime de-
solatae Ecclesiae captivis suis prseponere, et in
eorum redemptione cessare." (Caus. xii. q. 2,
canon 16.)

Remarkable words of St. Ambrose touching the
ransom of captives. To perform this pious
duty, the holy Bishop breaks up and sells the
tacred vessels.

(S. Ambrosius de Off. lib ii. cap. 15.)

($ TO.) " Summa etiatn liberalitas captos redi-
mcie, eripere ex hostium manibus, subtrahere
neci homines, et maxime feminas turpidini, red-
dere parentibus liberos,' parentes liberis, cives
patrise, restituere. Nota sunt haec nimis II-
lyriae vastitate et Thracise : quanti ubique
venales erant captivi orbe ....

Ibid, (g 71.) " Praocipua est igitur liberalitas,
redimere captivos et maxime ab hoste barbaro,
qui nihil deferat humanitatis ad misericordiam,
nisi quod avaritia reservaverit ad redemp-
ionein."

Ib. 1. ii. c. 2 ($ 13.) " Ut nos aliquando in
invidiam incidimus, quod confregeriimis vasa
r.ystica, ut captivos redimeremus, quod Arianis
'isplicere potuerat, nee tarn factum displiceret,
-}uam ut esset quod in nobis reprehenderetur."

These noble and charitable sentiments were
not those of St. Ambrose only ; his words are
but the expression of the feelings of the whole
•Church. Without referring to numberless proofs
which I might adduce here, and before I pass
to the canons which I mean to insert, I will
copy some passages from a touching letter of
8t. Cyprian, which contains the motives which
animated the Church in her pious enterprise,
and gives a lively description of her zeal and
•charity in these admirable efforts.

" Cyprianus Januario, Maximo, Proculo,
Victori, Modiano, Nemesiano, Nampulo, et
Honorato, fratribus salutem. Cum inaximo
:animi nostri gemitu et non sine lacrymis legi-
iflius htteras vestras, fratres carissimi, quas
»d nos pro dilectionis vestraa sollicitudine de
/ratrum nostrorum et sororuin CM.J civitate fe-
cistis. Quis enim non dole;1- in ejasmodi
ca.«ibus, fxut quis non dolureo fratris sui
auuin propriuiii computet cum . quatur apos-
tolas Pa'^ua et dicat: Si pat^n .• ••\.um mem-

brum, compatiuntur et catera membra : si Ice.
tatur membrum unum, collcetantur et eastern
membra. (1 ad Cor. xii. 26.) Et alio loco: Quit
infirmatur, inquit, et non ego infirmor ? (2 ad
Cor. xi. 29.) Quare nunc et nobis captivitaa
fratrum nostra captivitas computanda est, et
periclitantium dolor pro nostro dolore nume-
randus est, cum sit scilicet adunationis nostra
corpus unum, et non tantum dilectio sed et
religio instigare nos debeat et confortare ad
fratrum membra redimenda. Nam cum denuo
apostolus Paulus dicat: Nescitis quia templum
Dei estis, et Spiritus Dei habitat in vobis / (1
ad Cor. iii. 16), etiamsi charitas nos minus
adigeret ad opem fratribus ferendam, consider-
andum tamen hoc in loco fuit, Dei templum
esse quae capta sunt, nee pati nos longa cessa-
tione et neglecto dolore debere, ut diu Dei
templa captiva sint; sed quibus possumus viri-
bus elaborare et velociter gerere ut Christum
judicein et Dominum et Deum nostrum pro-
mereamur obsequiis nostris. Nam cum dicat
Paulus apostolus, Quotquot in Christo baptizati
est is, Christum induistis (ad Gal. iii. 27,) in
captivis fratribus nostrus contemplandus est
Christus et redimendus de periculo captivitatis,
qui nos de diaboli faucibus exuit, nuuc ipse qui
manet et habitat in nobis de barbarorum mani
bus exuatur, et redimatur nummaria quantitate
qui nos cruce redemit et sanguine.

Quantus vero communis omnibus nobis moeror
atque cruciatus est de periculo virginum qua
illic tenentur? pro quibus non tantum liberta
tis, sed et pudoris jactura plangenda est, neo
tain vincula barbarorum quam lenonum et lu-
panarium stupra deflenda sunt, ne membra
Christo dicata et in aeternuin continentiae hono-
rum pudica virtute devota, insultantium libidine
et contagione fcedentur ? Quae omnia istic se-
cundum litteras vestras fraternitas nostra co-
gitans et dolenter examinans, prompte omnes
et libenter ac largiter subsidia nummaria fratri
bus contulerunt.

Misimus autem sestertia centum millia num-
morurn, quaa istic in ecclesia cui de Domini
indulgentia praesumus, cleri et plebis apud nos
consistentis collatione, collecta sunt, quae vos
illic pro vestra diligentia dispensabitis.

Si tamen ad explorandam nostri anima chari-
tatem, et examinandi nostri pectoris fidem tale
aliquid accident, nolite cunctari nuntiare haeo
nobis litteris vestris, pro certo habentes eccle-
siam nostram et fraternitatem istic universam,
ne haBC ultra fiant precibus orare, si facta
fuerint, libenter et largiter subsidia praestare."
(Epist. 60.)

Thus the zeal for the redemption of captives,
a zeal which was exerted with so much ardor
in later ages, had appeared in the earliest times
of the Church ; this zeal was founded on grand
and sublime motives, .which render this work
in some measure divine, and secure to those
who devote themselves to It an unfading crown.
Important information on this subject will be
found also in the works of St. Gregory. (V.
lib. iii. ep. 16; lib. iv. ep. 17; lib. vi. ep. 36-
lib. vii. «p. 26, 28, and 38 ; Jib. ix. ep. 17.)

NOTES.

433

The proptrty of the Church employed for the

redemption of captives.

(Concilium Matisconense secundum, anno 585.)
" Undo statuimus ac decernimus, ut mot
antiquus a fidelibus reparetur; et decimas
ecclesiasticis famulantibus ceremoniis populus
omnis inferat, quas sacerdotes aut in pauperum
usuin aut in captivorum redemptionem prcero-
gantes, suis oratiunibus pacem populo ac salu-
tem impetrent : si quis autem contumax nostris
Etatutis saluberrimis fuerit, a membris ecclesiae
omni tempore separetur." (Canon 5.)

It it allowed to break up the sacred vessels, in
order to devote the price of them to the re
demption of captives.

(Concilium Rhemense, anno 625 vel. 630.)

" Si quis episcopus, excepto si evenerit ardua
uecessitas pro redemptione captivorum minis-
teria sancta frangere pro qualicumque condi-
tione presumpserit, ab officio cessabit ecclesiae."
(Canon 22.)

The following canon informs us that the
Bishops gave letters of recommendation to the
captives ; they are desired to state therein the
date and price of the ransom; they are re
quested also to mention there the wants of those
who are thus restored to liberty.

(Concilium Lugdunense tertium, anno 583.)

"Id etiam de epistolis placuit captivorum,
ut ita sint sancti pontifices cauti, ut in servitio
pontificibus consistcntibus qui eorum inanu vel
Bubscriptione agnoscat epistolae aut quselibet
insinuationum litters® dari debeant, quatenus
de subscriptionibus nulla ratione possit Deo
propitio dubitari: et epistola commendationis
pro necessitate cujuslibet promulgata dies da-
tarum et pretia constituta, vel necessitates
captivorum quos cum epistolis dirigunt, ibidem
inserantur." (Canon 2.)

Excess into which some ecclesiastict allowed
themselves to fall, by an indiscreet zeal in
favor of captives.

(Synodus S. Patricii, Auxilii et Isernini Episcoporum
in Hibernia celebrata, circa annum Christ! 450 vel
456.)

" Si quis clericorum voluerit juvare captivo
cum suo pretio illi subveniat, nam si per furtum
Alum inviolaverit, blasphemantur multi clerici
per unum latronem, qui sic fecerit excommu-
nionis sit." (Canon 32.)

The church employed her property in the
ransom of captives ; and when the latter had
afterwards acquired the means of repaying the
•urns advanced for them, she refused all reim
bursement and graciously gave up the price of
the ransom.

(Ex epistolis S. Gregoril.)

" Sacrorum canonum statuta et legalis per-
mittit auctontates, lici res ecclesiasticas in
redemptionem captivorum impendi. Et ideo,
quia edocti a vobis sumus, ante annos fere 18,
virum reverendissimum quemdam Fabium,
Episcopum Ecclesiae Firmanse, libras 11 ar-
genti de eadem ecclesia pro redemptione
vestra, ac patris vestri Passivi, fratris et co-
episcopi nostri, tune vero clerici, necnon matris
vestrae, hostibus impendisae, atque ex hoc
guamdam formidinem vos habere, ne hoc quod
55 2

datum est, a vobis quolibet tempore repetatnr,
hujus praecepti auctoritate euspicionem yen-
tram praevidimus auferendam; constituents,
nullam vos exinde, haeredesque vestros quolibei
tempore repetitionis molestiam sustinere, ne«
a quoquam vobis aliquam objici quasstionem."
(L. 7, ep. 14, et hab. Cuas. 12, q. 2, c. 15.)

The property of the Church served to ransom

captives.
(Concilium Vernense eecundum, anno 844.)

"Ecclesiae facultates quas reges et reliqui
christiani Deo voverunt, ad alimentum servo-
rum Dei et pauperum, ad exceptionem hospi-
tum, redemptionis captivorum, atque templorum
Dei instaurationein, nunc in usu saecularium
detinentur. Hinc inulti servi Dei penuriam
cibi et potus ac vestimentorum patiuntur.
pauperes consuetam eleemosynam non acci-
piuut, negliguntur hospiteB,fraudantur captivi,
et fama omnium merito laceratur." (Canon 12.)

Let us observe in this canon the use which
the Church made of her property ; after having
supported the clergy, and maintained divine
worship, she devoted it to succor the poor,
travellers or pilgrims, and to redeem captivef
I make this observation here, because th»
opportunity offers; not because this canon it
the only proof of the excellent use which thu
Church made of her property. Indeed, a great
number of others might be cited, beginning
with the canons called Apostolical. It is ne
cessary also to remark the expression which ia
sometimes made use of to stigmatize the wick
edness of the spoilers of the Church, or of those
who administer her property badly ; they are
called pauperum necatores, ' mnrderers of the
poor;' to make it well understood that one of
the principal objects of this property is the
support of the necessitous.

2 iv.

Those toho attempt to take away the liberty of

persons are excommunicated.
(Concilium Lugdunense secundum, anno 666.)
" Et qui peccatis facientibus multi in perni-
ciem animae suae ita conati sunt, aut conantur
assurgere, ut animas longa temporis quiete sine
ulla status sui competitione viventes, nunc
improba proditione atque traditione, aut cap-
tivaverint aut captivare conentur, si juxta
praeceptum domini regis emendare distulerint,
quousque hos quos obduxerunt, in loco in quo
longum tempus quiete vixerint, restaurare de
beant, ecclesiae communione priventur." (Ca
non 3.)

We see in this canon that private individu
als, by too frequent attempts, employed vio
lence to reduce free persons to slavery. At
this time, on account of the irruptions of the
barbarians, the state of Europe was such, that
public authority, weak in the extreme, did
not, properly spea.king, exist. This is the rea
son why it is so noble to see the Church strag
gling every where to support public order, to
defend liberty, and excommunicating those
who attacked that liberty, in contempt of th«
commands oi the king.

The same abuse repressed.
(Concilium Rhemense, anno 6
" Si quis iugeuuum aut liber

M

V34

NOTES.

Inclinare roluerit, aut fortasse jam fecit, et
commonitus ab episcopo se de inquietudine
ejus revocare neglexerit, aut emendare noluerit,
tamquara calumniae reum placuit sequestrari."
(Canon 17.)

ft is declared that he who leads away a Chris
tian to sell him, is guilty of homicide.

(Concilium Confluentinum, anno 922.)
" Item interrogatum est, quid de eo faci
endum sit qui christianum hominem seduxerit,
et sic vendiderit: responsumque est ab omni
bus, homicidii reatum, ipsum hominem sibi
contrahere." (Canon 7.)

The traffic in men, practised at that time in

England, is proscribed; it is forbidden to

sell men like ignoble animals.

(Concilium Londinense, anno 1102.)

" Ne quis illud nefarium negotium quo hao-
tenus in Anglia solebant homines sicut bruta
animalia venundari, deinceps ullatenus facere
praesumat."

We see, from the canon which I have just
cited, to what point the Church had attained
in all that affects true civilization. We are in
the nineteenth century, and it is considered
that a great step has been gained in modern
civilization by the consent of the great Euro
pean nations to sign treaties to suppress the
slave-trade ; now the canon which we have
just cited tells us, that at the beginning of the
twelfth century, and in that very town of
London, where the famous Convention was
lately held, the traffic in men was forbidden,
and stigmatized as it deserves. Nefarium
negotium — detestable trade — it is called by
the Council : infamous traffic, it is called
by modern civilization, the unconscious heir
of the thoughts and even the words of those
men who are treated by it as barbarians,
of those Bishops, whom calumny has more or
less represented as a band of conspirators
against the liberty and happiness of the human

It is ordered that persons who have been sold or
pledged, shall immediately recover their liberty
by restoring the price received it is ordained
that more shall not be required of them than
they shall have received for their liberty.

(Synodus incerti loci, circa annum 616.)

" De ingenuis qui se pro pecunia aut alia
revendiderint, vel oppignoraverint, placuit ut
quandoquidein pretium, quantum pro ipsis
datum est, invenire potuerunt, absque dilatione
ad etatum suee conditionis reddito pretio re-
formentur, nee amplius quam pro eis datum
est requiratur. Et intenm, si vir ex ipsis, ux-
orem ingenuam habuerit, aut mulier ingenuum
habuerit maritum, filii qui ex ipsis nati fue-
rint, in ingenuitate permaneant." (Canon 14.)

The text of this Council, held, according to
gome, at Boneuil, well deserves to have some
remarks made on it. The beneficial regulation
which allowed a man who had been sold to
regain his liberty by paying the sum received,
checked an evil which was deeply rooted in
the custom? of Gaul at that time, for we find
It at a very early period. We know, indeed,
from Caesar, whose testimony we have cited in

the text, that many men of that country sold
their liberty to relieve themselves from diffi
culties. Let us also remark the regulation
contained in the same canon with respect t«
the children of the person who was sold;
whether it be the father or mother, the canon
prescribes, in both cases, that the children
shall be free; and it here~ departs from the
well known rule of civil law : partus sequitw
ventrem.

It is forbidden to give up to the Jews
who have taken refuge in the churches; it
ters little whether they have chosen that asylum
because their masters obliged them to thingi
contrary to the Christian faith, or because
they have been maltreated by them after hav
ing been once withdrawn from the eacred asy
lum wider the promise of pardon.

(Concilium Aurelianense tertium, anno 538.)
" De mancipiis Christianis, quse in Judaeorum
servitio detinentur, si eis quod Christiana reli-
gio vetat, a dominis imponitur, aut si eos quos
de ecclesia excusatos tollent, pro culpa qua
remissa est, affligere aut caedere fortasse prae-
sumpserint, et ad ecclesiam iterate confuge-
rint, nullatenus a sacerdote reddantur, nisi
pretium offeratur ac detur, quod mancipia ipsa
valere pronuntiaverit justa taxatio." (Canon
13.)

The precept given in the preceding canon is re
newed; a precept contained in the canon which
we have just cited.

(Concilium Aurelianense quartum, anno 541.)
" Cum prioribus canonibus jam fuerit defini-
turn ut de mancipiis Christianis, quae apud
Judaeos sunt, si ad ecclesiam confugerint, et
redimi se postulaverint, etiam ad quoscumque
Christianos refugerint, et servire Judaeis nolu-
erint, taxato et oblato a fidelibus justo pretio,
ab eorum dominio liberentur, ideo statuimus, ut
tarn justa constitutio ab omnibus catholicis
conservetur." (Canon 30.)

The Jew who perverts a Christian slave is pun
ished with the loss of all his slaves. (Ibid.)

"Hoc etiarn decernimus observandum, ut
quicumque Judaeus proselytum, qui advena di-
citur, Judaeum facere praesumpserit, aut Chris
tianum factum ad Judaicam superstitionem ad-
ducere; vel si Judaeus Christianam ancillam
suam sibi crediderit sociandam ; vel si de pfc-
rentibus Christianis natum, Judaeum su\> pro-
missione fecerit libertatis, mancipiorum amis-
sione mulctetur." (Canon 31.)

Jews are forbidden to hai>e Christian slant

henceforth; as to those who are in their pewer,

all Christians are allowed to ransom them by

paying their Jewish masters twelve solidi.

(Concilium Matisconense primum, auno 581.)

"Et liceat quid de Christianis qui aut de

captivitatis incursu, aut fraudibus Judaeornm

servitio implicantur, debeat observari, non

solum canonicis statutis, sed et legum beneficio

pridem fuerit constitutum ; tamen quia nune

I item quo rumdam querela exorta est, quondam

j Judaeos, per civitates aut municipia consisten-

• tes, in tantam insolentiaiu et proterviam pro-

NOTES.

rupisse, at nee reclRtnantes ChristianoB liceat
vel pretio de eorum servitute absolvi : idcirco
pnesenti concilio, Deo auctore, sancimus, ut
nullus Christianus Judteos deinceps debeat de-
Bervire ; sed datis pro quolibet bono mancipio
12 solidis, ipsum mancipiuin quicumque Chris
tianus, seu ad ingenuitatem, seu ad servitium,
licentiam habeat redimendi ; quia nefas est, ut
<^uos Christus Dominus sanguinis sui effusione
redemit, persecutorum vinculis mancant irre-
titi. Quod si acquiescere his quae statuimus
quicumque Judaeus noluerit, quamdiu ad pecu-
niam constitutam venire distulerit, liceat man
cipio ipsi cum Christianis ubicumque voluerit
habitare. Illud etiam specialiter sancientes,
quod si quis Judaeus Christianum mancipium
ad errorem Judaicum convictus fuerit suaslsse,
at ipse mancipio eareat, et legandi damnatione
plectatur." (Canon 16.)

The preceding canon is almost equivalent to
a decree for the entire emancipation of Chris
tian slaves ; for if, on the one hand, Jews were
forbidden to acquire new Christian slaves, and,
on the other, those who were in their posses
sion could be redeemed by the first Christian
who came, it is clear that the charity of the
faithful thus finding a door open to it, the
number of Christian slaves who groaned in the
power of the Jews must have diminished in an
extraordinary manner. It is not said that
these canonical regulations of the Church from
the first moment obtained all the result which
was intended; but, as she was the only power
that remained standing at that time, and the
only one that exercised influence on the na
tions, it cannot be doubted that her regulations
were infinitely advantageous to those in whose
favor they were established.

Jews are forbidden to acquire Christian slaves.
If .a Jew perverts to Judaism, or circumcises
a Christian slave, the latter becomes free with
out having any thing to pay to his master.

(Concilium Toletanum tertium, anno 589.)

" Suggerente concilio, id gloriossimus domi-
nus noster canonibus inserenduin praecipit, ut
Judaeis non liceat Christianas habere uxores,
neque mancipia comparare in usus proprios. . .

" Si qui vero Christiani ab eis Judaico ritu
sunt maculati, vel etiam circumcisi, non reddito
pretio ad libertatem et religionem redeant
Christianam." (Canon 14.)

This canon is remarkable, both because it
protects the conscience of the slave, and im
poses on masters a punishment favorable to
liberty. This manner of checking the arbi
trary power of those who violated the con
sciences of their slaves, is found, during the
following century, in a curious example con
tained in the collection of the laws of Ina,
queen of the West Saxons. It is this :

If a master makes his slave work on Sunday
the vlave becomes free.

(Leges Ynae regina Saxonum Occiduorum, anno 692.)

" Si servus operetur die dominica per prse-
.wptum domini sui, sit liber." (Leg. iii.)

Another curious example :
If a master gives meat to a slave on a fasting*

day, the slave becomes free.
Concilium Kerjrhamstedae anno 5° Withnedi regu

Cantii, id est Christi » 97 : sub Bei tualdo Cantuari-

ensi archiepiscopo celebratum. llsec sunt judida

Withredi rt-gis Cantuariorum.)

"Si quis servo suo carnem in jejunio dedi-
lerit comedendam. servus liber exeat." (Canoa
15.)

It is definitively forbidden for Jews to havt
Christian slaves ; all contravention of thi»
order shall deprive the Jews of all their
slaves, who shall obtain their liberty from tht
prince.

(Concilium Toletanum quartum, anno 688.)
" Ex decreto gloriosissimi principis hoc sanc
tum elegit concilium, ut Judaeis non liceat
Christianos servos habere, nee Christiana man
cipia emere, nee cujusquam consequi largitate :
nefas est enim ut membra Christi serviant An-
tichristi ministris. Quod si deinceps servos
Christianos, vel ancillas Judeei habere prae-
sumpserint, sublati ab eorum dominatu liber
tatem a principe consequantur." (Canon 66.)

It is forbidden to sell Christian slaves to Jew*

or Gentiles ; if such sales have been made,

they shall be annulled.

(Concilium Rhemense, anno 625.)

" Ut Christiani Judaeis vel Gentilibus non
vendantur ; et si quis Christianorum necessi
tate cogente mancipia sua Christiana elegerit
venundanda, non aliis nisi tantum Christianis
expendat. Nam si paganis aut Judaeis vendi-
derit, communione privetur, et emptio eareat
firmitate." (Canon 11.)

No precaution was too great in those unhap
py times. It might appear at first that such
regulations were an effect of the intolerance
of the Church with respect to the Jews and
Pagans ; and yet, in reality, they were a bar
rier against the barbarism which invaded all ;
they were a guarantee of the most sacred
rights of man ; so much the more necessary,
as all the others, it may be said, had disap
peared. Read the document which we are
about to transcribe; you will there see that
barbarism was carried so far, that slaves were
sold to the Pagans to be sacrificed.

(Gregorius Papa in. ep. ad Bonifacium Archiepisco-
pum, anno 731.)

" Hoc quoque inter alia crimina agi in par-
tibus illis dixisti, quod quidam ex fidelibus ad
immolandum paganis sua venundent mancipia.
Quod ut magnopere corrigere debeas, frater,
commonemus, nee sinas fieri ultra; ecelus est
enim et impietas. Eis ergo qui haec perpetra-
verunt, similem homicidae indices pceuiten-
tiam."

These excesses must have occupied the ac
tive attention of the Church, as we see the
Council of Liptines, held in 743, again insist
on this point, and forbid Christian slaves to be
given up to the Gentiles.

"Et ut mancipia Christiana paganis BOB
tradantur." (Canon 7.)

48(5

NOTES.

ft it forbidden to sell a Christian slave out oj
ike territory comprised within the kingdom of
Clovis.

(Concilium Cabilonense, anno 650.)
"Pietatis est maximse et religionis intuitus,
at captivitatis vinculum omnino a Christianis '
redimatur. Uude sancta Synodus noscitur cen-
Buisse, ut aulluji maucipium extra fines vel ter-
liiinos, qui ad regnum domini Clodovei regis
pertinent, debeat venundare, ne quod absit,
per tale commercium, aut captivitatis vinculo,
rel quod pejus est, Judaica servitute mancipia
Christiana teneantur implicita." (Canon 9.)

This canon, which forbids the selling of Chris
tian slaves out of the kingdom of Clovis, for
fear that they should fall into the power of the
Pagans and Jews, and the other of the Council
of Rheims, cited above, which contains a simi
lar regulation, are worthy of remark, under
two aspects ; they show, 1st, the high respect
which we ought to have for the soul of man,
even of him who \& a slave, since it is forbidden
to sell him where his conscience might be in
danger : a respect which it was very important
to maintain, both in order to eradicate the er
roneous maxims of antiquity on this point,
and because it was the first step towards eman
cipation. 2d. By limiting the power of sale,
there was introduced into that kind of property
a law which distinguished it from others, and
placed it in a different and more elevated cate
gory. This was a great step made towards
declaring open war against this property itself,
and abolishing it by legitimate means.
Clerics who sold their slaves to Jews are severely

reproved : they are threatened with alarming

punishments.
(Concilium decimum Toletanum, anno 656.)

" Septimae collationis immane satis et infan-
dum operationis studium nunc sanctum nostrum
adiit concilium ; quod plerique ex sacerdotibus
et levitis, qui pro sacris rninisteriis, et pietatis
studio, gubernationisque augmento sanctao ec
clesiae deputati sunt officio, malunt imitari tur-
bam malorum, potius quam sanctorum patrum
insistere maudatis : ut ipsi etiam qui redimere
debuerunt, venditiones facere intendant, quos
Christi sanguine praesciunt esse redemptos ; ita
duntaxat, ut eorum dominio qui sunt empti in
ritu Judaismo convertantur oppress!, et fit exe-
orabile commercium, ubi nitente Deo justum
est sanctum adesse conventum; quia majorum
canones vetuerunt ut nullus Judseorum conju-
gia vel servitia habere praesumat de Christi-
anorum coetu."

Here the Council eloquently reprimands the
guilty ; it continues :

" Si quis enim post hanc definitionem talia
agere tentaverit, noverit se extra ecclesiam
fieri, et praesenti, et futuro judicio cum Juda
•imili pcena percelli, dum modo Dominum
denuo proditionis pretio malunt ad iracuudiam
provocare." (Canon 7.)

nein assumere, ut divinitatis baaa gratia, diruM
quo tenebamur captivi vinculo servitutis, pnsti-
nae nos restitueret libertati ; salubriter agiter,
si homines quos ab initio natura creavit liberoa
et protulit, et jus gentium jugo substituit ser
vitutis, in ea natura in qua nati fuerant, manu-
mittentis beneticio, libertati reddantur. Atque
ideo pietatis intuitu, et hujus rei consideratione
permoti, vos Montanam atque Thomara fa-

Pope St. Gregory the First gives freedom to

tore deservimus, liberos ex hac die civesquo
Romanos efficimus, omneque vestrum vobis
relaxaous servitutis peculium." (S. Greg. 1.
v. ep. 12.)

Bishops are directed to respect the liberty of
those who have been enfranchised by their
predecessors. Mention is made of the power
given to Bishops to free their slaves who deserve
well, and the sum is fixed which they may give
them to aid them in living.

(Concilium Agathense, anno 506.)
" Sane si quos de servis ecclesiae benemeritoB
sibi episcopus libertate donaverit, collatam
libertatem a successoribus placuit custodiri,
cum hoc quod eis manuinissor in libertate con-
tulerit, quod tamen jubemus viginti solidorum
numerum, et modum in terrula, vineola, vel
hospitiolo tenere. Quod amplius datum fuerit,
post manumissoris mortem ecclesia revocabit."
(Canon 7.)

What has been mortaged or alienated from the
property of the Church by a Bishop who has
left nothing of his own, must be restored ; but
enfranchised slaves are excepted from this
rule : they shall preserve their liberty.
(Concilium Aurelianense quartum, anno 541.)
" Ut episcopus qui de facultate propria eccle-
sise nihil relinquit, de ecclesiae facultate si quid
aliter quam canones eloquunter obligayerit,
vendiderit, aut distraxerit, ad ecclesiam revo-
cetur. Sane si de servis ecclesiae libertos fecerit
numero competenti, in ingenuitate permnneant,
ita ut ab officio ecclesiae non recedant." (Ca
non 9.)

An English Council ordains that, at the death
of each Bishop, all his English slaves shall be
freed. The solemnization of the obsequies ia
regulated ; to terminate the funeral ceremonies,
each Bishop and abbot shall enfranchise thre?
slaves, by giving them each three solidi.

(Synodus Cellichytensis, anno 816.)
" Decimo jubetur, et hoc firmiter statuimus
asservandum, tarn in nostris diebus, quamque
etiam futuris temporibus, omnibus successori
bus nostris qui post nos illis sedibus ordinentur
quibus ordinati sumus : ut quandocumque ali-
quis ex numero episcoporum migraverit de
saeculo, hoc pro anima illius praecipimus, ex
substantia uniuscumque rei decimam partem
dividere, ae distribuere pauperibus in elee-
mosynam, sive in pecoribus, et arinentis, sea
de ovibus et porcis, vel etiam in cellariis,
nee nom omnem hominem Anglicum liberare, qui
in diebus suis sit servituti subjectus, ut per illud

- */ a — - »j / \ji utcvim vww MI ••TVWM ffctc/yeciwo, ui pur iiiuu

two slaves of the Church of Rome. Remarkable 8ui propru laboris fructum retributionis per-
passage, in which this holy pope explains the \ cipere mereatur, et indulgentiam peccatorum,
motiietwVch induced the Christians to en/ran. \ Nec unatenus ab aliqua persona huic capitulo
ehise their tlaves. contradicatur, sed magis, prout condecet, a

" Cum Redemptor noster totius conditor crea- successoribus augeator, et ejus memoria semper
tune ad hoc propitiatus humanam voluerit cai- in posterum per uuiversas ecclesias ucstrae

Aitioni subjectas cum Dei laudJbus habeatur et
honoretur. Prorsus orationes et eleerno&ynas
I quae iutei1 nos specialiter condictam habemus,

id est, ut statim per singulas parochias in
singulis quibusque ecclesiis. pulsato signo, om-
nis famulorum Dei coetus ad basilicam conve-
niant, ibique pariter xxx psalmos pro def'uncti
animae decantent. Et postea unusquisque antis-
tes et abbas sexcentos psalinos, et centum vi-
ginti missas celebrare facial, et tres homines
liberet et eorum cnilibet trea solidos distribiint "
(Canon 10.)

A curious docunent, which tthows the generous
resolution made by the Council of Armagh
in Ireland, to give liberty to all the English
slaves.

(Concilium Ardamachiense in Hibernia celebratum,
anno 1171 : ex Giraldo Cambrensi, cap. xxviii.
Hiberniae expugnataa.)

"His completis convocato apud Ardama-
chiaru totius Hibernian clero, et super advena-
rum in iusulain adventu tractate diutius et
deliberato, tandem coinmunis omnium in hoc
Bontentia resedit : propter peccata scilicet po-
puli sui, eoque praecipue quod Anglos olim, tarn
a rnercatoriVas, quam praedonibus afque piratis,
cmere passim, et in servitutem redigere con-
Bueverant, divinae censura vindictaa hoc eis
incommodum accidisse, ut et ipsi quoque ab
eadem gente in servitutem vice reciproca jam
redigantur. Anglorum namque populus adhuc
integro eorum regno, communi gentis vitio,
liberos suos venales exponere, et priusquam
inopiam ullam aut inediam sustinerent, filios
proprios et cognates in Hiberniam vendere
consueverant. Unde et probabiliter credi po-
test, sicut venditores olim, ita et emptores, tarn
enormi delicto juga servitutis jam meruisse.
Decretum est itaque in praedicto concilio, et
cum universitatis consensu publice statutum,
at Angli ubique per insulam, servitutis vinculo
mancipati, in pristinam revocentur libertatem."

It is thus that religious ideaa influence and
soften the ferocious manners of nations. When
a public calamity occurs, they immediately find
its cause in the divine anger, justly excited by
the traffic which the Irish carried on by buy
ing English slaves of merchants, robbers, and
pirates. It is not less curious to learn, that at
that time the English were barbarous enough
to sell their children and relations, like the
Africans of our days. This frightful custom
must have been pretty general, as we read in
the passage quoted, that it was the common
rice of those nations : communi gentis vitio.
This makes us better understand the necessity
of a regulation inserted above, that of the
Council of London, held in 1102, which pro
scribes this infamous traffic in men.

It is forbidden to change the slaves of the Church
for other slaves, unless the exchange procured
their liberty.

(Ex eoncilio apud Sylvanectum, anno 864.)
"Mancipia ecclesiastica, nisi ad libertatem
non convenit commutari ; videlicet ut mancipia,
quae pro ecclesiastico homine dabuntur, in ec-
elesiae servitute permaneant, et ecclesiasticus
homo, qui conunutatur, fruatur perpetua liber-
tate. Quod enim semel Deo consecratum est,
ad humanos usus transferri non decet." (V.
Decret. Brog. IX., 1. iii. tit 19, cap. 3.)

NOTES. 437

A Canon containing the same regulation at *A«
preceding ; and whence, moreover, it appear^
that the faithful, for the salvation of thtir
souls, were accustomed to offer their slave* 1*
Uod and the Saints.

(Ex eodem, anno 864.)

"Injustum videtur et impium, ut mancipia,
quae fideles Deo e%t sanctis ejus pro remedio
animae suae consecrarunt, cujuseumque rnuneri*
manciple, vel commutationis commercio iterura
in servitutem secularium redigantur, cum ca-
nonica auctoritas servos tantummodo permittat
distrahi fugitives. Et ideo ecclesiarum rectoree
summopere caveant, ne eleemosyna unius, alte-
rius peccatum fiat. Et est absurdum, ut ab
ecclesiastica dignitate servus discedens, hu-
inanae sit obnoxius servituti." (Ibid. cap. 4.)

Freedom shall be granted to slaves who wish to
embrace the monastic state, yet without ne
glecting useful precautions to ascertain the
reality of their vocation.

(Concilium Romanum sub S. Gregorio I., anno 597.J
" Multos de ecclesiastica seu saeculari familia,
noviinus ad omnipotentis Dei servitium festi-
nare, ut ab humana servitute liberi in divino
servitio valeant fainiliarius in monasteriis con-
versari, quos si passim dimittimus, omnibus
fugiendi ecclesiastici juris dominium occasio-
nem praebeinus : si vero festinantes ad omnipo
tentis Dei servitium, incaute retiuemus, illi
invenimur negare quaedam qui dedit omnia.
Unde necesse est, ut quisquis ex juris ecclesi
astici vel saecularis militiae eervitute ad Dei
servitium converti desiderat, probetur prius in
laico habitu constitutus : et si mores ejus atque
conversatio bona desiderio ejus testimonium
ferunt, absque retractatione servire in inonas-
terio omnipotent! Domino permittatur, ut ab
humano servitio liber recedat, qui in divino
obsequio districtiorem appetit servitutem." (8.
Greg, epist 44. lib. iv).

The abuse of ordaining slaves without the eon-
sent of their masters had spread ; this abute
is checked.

(Ex epistolis Gelasii Papa;.)
" Ex antiquis regulis et novella synodali ex-
planatione comprehensum est, personas ob-
noxias servituti, cingulo coelestis militise non
praecingi. Sed nescio utrum ignorantia an
voluntate rapiamini, ita ut ex hac causa nullut
pene Episcoporum videatur extorris. Ita enim
nos frequens et plurimorum querela nos cir-
cumstrepit, ut ex hac parte nihil penitas pute-
tur constitutum." (Distin. 54. c. 9.)

^"Frequent equidem, et assidua not querela
circumstrepit de his pontificibus, qui nee anti-
quas regulas nee decreta nostra noviter direct*
cogitantes, obnoxias possessionibus obligatas-
que personas, venientes ad clericalis officii
cingulum non recusant." (Ibid. c. 10.)

"Actores siquidem filiae nostrae illustris et
magnificae feminae, Maximae, petitorii nobii
insinuatione conquesti sunt, Sylvestrum atque
Candidum, originarios suos, contra constito-
tiones, quae supradictae sunt, et contradictione
praeeunte a Lucerino Pontifice diaconos ordi-
natos." (Ibid c. 11.)

" Oeneralis etiam querttlce, vitanda prcesump-
tio eat, qua propemodum causantur untvervt,

438 NOTES.

passim servos et originarios, iominorum jura,
possessionumque fugientes, sub religiosae con-
versationis obtettu, vel ad monasieria sese
conferre, vel ad eoclesiasticum famulatum, con-
niventibus quippe praesulibus, indifferenter
admitti. Quae modis omnibus est amovenda
pernicies, ne per Christian! nominis institutum
aut aliena pervadi, aut publica videatur dis-
ciplina subvert!." (Ibid. c. 12.)

The parish priests are allowed to choose some
clerics from the slaves of the Church.

(Concilium Emeritense, anno 666.)
"Quidquid unanimiter digne disponitur in
gancta Dei ecclesia, necessarium est ut a paro-
chitanis presbyteris custoditum maneat. Sunt
enim nonnulli, qui ecclesiarum suarum res ad
plenitudinem habent, et sollicitudo illis nulla
est habendi clericos, cum quibus omnipotent!
Deo laudum debita persolvant ofncia. Proinde
instituit haec sancta synodus, ut omnes paro-
chitani presbyteri, juxta ut in rebus sibi a Deo
sreditis sentiunt habere virtutem, de ecclesise
suse familia clericos sibi faciant; quos per
bonam voluntatem ita nutriant, ut et officium
sanctum digne paragant, et ad servitium suum
aptos eos habeant. Hi etiam victum et vesti-
turn dispensatione presbyteri merebuntur, et
domino et presbytero suo, atque utilitati eccle-
eisd fideles esse debent. Quod si inutiles appa-
ruerint utculpapatuerit, correptione discipline
feriantur ; si quis presbyterorum hanc senten-
tiam miuime custodierit, et non adimpleverit,
ab episcopo suo corrigatur : ut plenissime cus-
todiat, quod digne jubetur." (Canon 18.)

It is prescribed to the Bishops to confer liberty
on the slaves of the Church before they admit
them into the clerical body.

(Concilium Toletauum nonum, anno 655.)
" Qui ex familiis ecclesiae servituri devocan-
tur in clerum ab episcopis suis, necesse est, ut
libertatis percipiant donum : et si honestae vitse
claruerint meritis, tune demum majoribus fun-
gantur officiis. (Canon 11.)

It is allowed to ordain the slaves of the Church
liberty having been previously conferred on
them.

(Concilium quartern Toletanum, anno 633.)
" De familiis ecclesiae constituere presbyteros
ut diaconos per parochias liceat ; quos tamen
vitse rectitudo et probitas morum commendat
«a tamen ratione, ut antea manumissi liberta
tern status sui percipiant, et denuo ad ecclesias-
tioos honores succedant; irreligiosum est enim
obligates existere servituti, qui sacri ordini
euseipiunt dignitatem."

g VIL

We have shown in the text by what means
with what wisdom and perseverance Christian
Ity abolished slavery in the ancient world
Christian and Catholic Europe was free at th
time when Protestantism appeared. Let u
now see what Catholicity has done in modern
times, with respect to slaves in other parts o:
the world. We can present to our readers ii
one document, which is the evidence of th
Ideas and feelings of the Sovereign Pontiff
Gregory XVI., an interesting history of th

olicitude of the Roman See in favor of tki
laves of the whole universe. I mean the
postolical letters published at Rome, Novem-
er 3, 1839, against the slave-trade; and I
ecommend the perusal of them. It will be
here seen, in the most authentic and decisive
manner, that the Catholic Church, on this im-
ortant subject of slavery, has always showed,
nd shows still, the most lively spirit of charity,
rithout in the least offending against justice,
r for a moment departing from the path of
irudence.

' Gregorius P. P. XVI. ad futuram ret me~
moriam.

" Raised to the supreme degree of the apos-
olical dignity, and filling, although without
my merit on our part, the place of Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, who, by the excess of
lis charity, has deigned to become man, and
die for the redemption of the world ; we con-
ider that it belongs to our pastoral solicitude
to exert all our efforts to prevent Christians
rom engaging in the trade in blacks or any
other men, whoever they may be.

; As soon as the light of the Gospel began
;o spread, the unfortunate men who fell into
;he hard fate of slavery during the numerous
wars of that period, felt their condition im
proved ; for the apostles, inspired by the Spirit
of God, on the one hand, taught slaves to obey
;heir earthly masters, as Jesus Christ Himself,
and to be resigned from the bottom of their
heart to the will of God; but, on the other,
they commanded masters to behave well to
their slaves, to grant them what was just and
equitable, and not to treat them with anger,
knowing that the Lord of both is in heaven,
and that with Him there is no distinction of
persons.

" The law of the Gospel having very soon
universally and fundamentally ordained sincere
charity towards all, and the Lord Jesus having
declared that He would regard as done or re
fused to Himself all the acts of beneficence
and mercy done or refused to the poor and
little ones — it naturally followed that Chris
tians not only regarded their slaves as brethren,
above all when they were become Christians,
but that they were more inclined to give liberty
to those who rendered themselves worthy of
it. This usually took place particularly on
the solemn feasts of Easter, as St. Gregory of
Nyssa relates. There were even found some
who, inflamed with more ardent charity, em
braced slavery for the redemption of their
brethren ; and an apostolic man, our predeces
sor, Pope Gregory I., of sacred memory, attesti
that he had known a great many who perform
ed this work of mercy. Wherefore the dark
ness of Pagan superstition being entirely dis
sipated in the progress of time, and the
manners of the most barbarous nations being
softened, — thanks to the benefit of faith work
ing by charity, — things advanced so far, that
for many centuries there have been no slavei
among the greater part of Christian nations.
Yet (we say it with profound sorrow) men have
been since found, even among Christians, who,
shamefully blinded by the desire of sordid
gain, have not hesitated to reduce into slavery,
in distant countries, Indians, Negroes, and

NOTES.

other -unfortunate races; or to assist in this
scandalous crime, by instituting and organizing
a traffic in these unfortunate beings, who had
been loaded with chains by others. A great
number of the Roman Pontiffs, our predeces
sors of glorious memory, have not forgotten to
stigmatize, throughout the extent of their
jurisdiction, the conduct of these men as in
jurious to their salvation, and disgraceful to
the Christian name; for they clearly saw that
it was one of the causes which tended most
powerfully to make infidel nations continue in
their hatred to the true religion.
"This was the object of the apostolical letters
of Paul III., of the 29th of May, 1537, ad
dressed to the Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo,
under the ring of the fisherman, and other
letters, much more copious, of Urban VIIL,
of the 22d April, 1639, addressed to the col
lector of the rights of the Apostolic Chamber
in Portugal, — letters, in which the most severe
censures are cast upon those^who venture to
reduce the inhabitants of the East or West
Indies into slavery, buy, sell, give, or exchange
them, separate them from their wives and
children, strip them of their property, take or
send them into strange places, or deprive them
of their liberty in any way ; to retain them in
slavery ; or aid, counsel, succor, or favor those
who do these things under any color or pre
tence whatever; or preach or teach that this
is lawful, and, in fine, co-operate therewith in
any way whatever. Benedict XIV. has since
confirmed and renewed these pontifical ordi
nances before mentioned by new apostolical
letters to the Bishops of Brazil and some other
countries, dated the 20th December, 1741, by
means of which he calls forth the solicitude of
the Bishops for the same purpose. A long
time before, another of our more ancient pre
decessors, Pius II., whose pontificate saw the
empire of the Portuguese extended in Guinea
and in the country of the blacks, addressed
letters, dated the 7th of October, 1482, to the
Bishop of Ruvo, who was ready to depart for
those countries : in these letters he did not j
confine himself to giving to this prelate the
means requisite for exercising the sacred min
istry in those countries with the greatest fruit,
but he took occasion very severely to blame
the conduct of those who reduced the neo
phytes into slavery. In fine, in our days, Pius
VII., animated by the same spirit of charity
and religion as his predecessors, zealously in
terposed his good offices with men of authority
for the entire abolition of the slave-trade
among Christians.

"These ordinances, and this solicitude of our
predecessors, have availed not a little, with the
aid of God, in defending the Indians, and other
nations who have just been mentioned, against
the barbarity of conquest, and the cupidity of
Christian merchants; but the Holy See is far
fron being able to boast of the complete suc
cess of its efforts and zeal, for, if the slave-
trade has been partially abolished, it is still
carried on by a great many Christians. Where
fore, desiring to remove such a disgrace from
all Christian countries, after having maturely
considered the matter with many of our vene
rable brethren, the Cardinals of the Holy
Roman Church, assembled in Council, following
the example of our predecessors, by virtue of

the apostolic office, we warn and .•Khno'-ish in
the Lord all Christians, of whatever condition
they may be, and enjoin upon them th, t. for
the future, no one shall venture injns-ly tc
oppress the Indians, Negroes, or other men,
whoever they may be ; to strip them of their
property or reduce them into servitude : or
give aid or support to those who commit such
excesses, or carry on that infamous traffic, by
which the blacks, as if they were not men, but
mere impure animals, reduced like them into
servitude, without any distinction, contrary to
the laws of justice and humanity, are bought,
sold, and devoted to endure the hardest labors ;
and on account of which dissensions are ex
cited and almost continual wars are fomented
among nations by the allurements of gain of
fered to those who first carry away the Negroes.

" Wherefore, by virtue of the apostolical
authority, we condemn all these things afore
said, as absolutely unworthy of the Christian
name ; and, by the same authority, we abso
lutely prohibit and interdict all ecclesiastics
and laymen from venturing to maintain that
this traffic in blacks is permitted, under any
pretext or color whatsoever ; or to preach or
teach in public or in private, in any way what
ever, anything, contrary to these apostolic
letters. And in order that these letters may
come to the knowledge of all, and that no one
may pretend ignorance, we ordain and decree
that they be published and posted up, accord
ing to custom, by one of our officers, on the
doors of the basilica of the Prince of the Apos
tles, of the Apostolic Chancery, of the Palace
of Justice, of Monte Citorio. and at the Campo
di Fiori. Given at Rome, at St. Mary Major's,
under the seal of the fisherman, the 3d of No
vember, 1839, the ninth year of our Pontificate.
Louis, CARDINAL LAMBRUSCHINI."

I again particularly invite attention to the
document which I have just inserted — to these
letters which magnificently crown the united
efforts of the Church for the abolition of slavery.
As the abolition of the slave-trade — the object
of a treaty recently made between the great
powers — is at this moment one of the affairs
which occupy the chief attention of Europe, it
is proper to pause a few moments, to reflect on
the contents of the apostolic letters of the
Sovereign Pontiff Gregory XVI. Let us ob
serve, in the first place, that in the year 1482,
Pope Pius II. addressed apostolical letters to
the Bishop of Ruvo, about to depart for the
newly discovered countries — letters, in which
he did not exclusively confine himself to giving
the prelate the powers necessary to exercise
his holy ministry with the greatest fruit in
those countries, but in which he takes occasion
to censure very severely the conduct of Chris
tians who reduced the neophytos into slavery.
Exactly at the end of the fifteenth century, at
the time when it may be said that the Church
gathering the last fruit of her long labors, at
length saw Europe emerge from the chaos In
which the irruption of the barbarians had
plunged her; at the time when the social ana
political institutions were developed with dailj
increasing ardor, and began to form a regular
and coherent body ; at this moment the Church
resumes her secular contest with another bar
barism which reappeared in distan; countries :
she opposes the abuse of the superiority of

440

NOTES.

«trength and intelligence, which the conquerors
possessed over the conquered nations.

This fact alone proves that, for the true
liberty and well-being of nations, for the just
pre-eminence of right over might, and for the
triumph of justice over force, the intelligence
and refinement of nations are not enough — re
ligion also is required. In ancient times, we
see nations cultivated to the highest point
commit unheard of atrocities ; and in modern
times, Europeans, so proud of their knowledge
and advancement, introduce slavery among
the unfortunate nations who have fallen under
their dominion. Now, who was the first to
raise a voice against such injustice — against
guch horrible barbarity? It was not policy,
which perhaps rejoiced to see its conquests
consolidated by slavery ; it .was not commerce
which found in this infamous traffic an easy
means of making shameful but abundant
profits ; it was not philosophy, which, fully
explaining the doctrines of Plato and Aristotle,
would perhaps have seen without concern the
resuscitation of the degrading theory of races
born for slavery ; but it was the Catholic reli
gion, expressing herself by the mouth of the
Vicar of Jesus Christ.

It is certainly a consolatory spectacle for
Catholics to see a Roman Pontiff", four centuries
ago, condemn what, Europe, with all her civili
zation and refinement, condemns only at the
present day. Still, Europe only does so with
difficulty ; and all those who take part in this
tardy condemnation are not exempt from the
suspicion of being actuated by motives of
interest. No doubt the Roman Pontiff did not
effect all the good he intended ; but doctrines
do not remain sterile when they emanate from
a high quarter, whence, diffusing themselves to
great distances, they descend on persons who
receive them with veneration, if it were only
on account of him who teaches them. The
conquering nations were then Christians, and
sincere ones ; it is therefore indubitable, that
the admonitions of the Pope, transmitted by
the mouths of Bishops and other priests, must
have had very salutary effects. If, in cases
'ike this, where we see a measure taken against
u,n evil, the evil nevertheless resists and con
tinues, we imagine, by a grievous mistake, that
the measure has been vain, and that its author
has produced no effect. It is one thing to ex
tirpate, and another to diminish an evil ; aud
it cannot be doubted that, if the Bulls of the
Popes had not all the effect intended, they
mutt nevertheless have served to diminish the
evil, by improving the lot of nations fallen
under the yoke. The evil prevented and
avoided is not seen ; the preservative has hin
dered its existence; but the existing evil is
palpable — it affects us, it excites our regret,
and we often forget the gratitude due to the
hand which has preserved us from greater
evils. How often is it thus with respect to re
ligion ! She cures many things, but she pre
vents still more. If she takes possession of the
heart of man, it is in order to destroy there
even the very roots of a thousand evils.

Let us imagine the Europeans of the fifteenth
century invading the East and West Indies,
without any check, guided only by the inspira
tions of cupidity, and by the caprices of arbi
trary power, full of the pride of conquerors,

and of the contempt with which the Indiana
must have inspired them, on account of the
inferiority of their knowledge, and of their
backwardness in civ.lization and refinement:
what must have happened ? If, in spite of the
incessant cries of religion, in spite of the in
fluence which she had on laws and manners,
the conquered nations have had so much to
suffer, would not the evil have been carried to
an intolerable extent, without those powerfu.
causes which incessantly combated, prevented
or diminished it ? The conquered would have
been reduced into slavery en masse : they would
have been condemned en masse to perpetual
degradation ; they would have been deprived
even of the hope of one day entering on the
career of civilization.

If the conduct of Europeans at that time
with respect to men of other races — if the con
duct of some nations of our own days is to be
deplored, it cannot be said at least that the
Catholic religion has not opposed such excesses
with all her strength ; it cannot be said that
the Head of the Church has ever allowed these
evils to pass without raising his voice to recall
to mind the rights of men, to stigmatize injus
tice, to excite abhorrence of cruelty, and ener
getically to plead the cause of humanity, with
out distinction of races, climates, or colors.

Whence does Europe derive this lofty idea
and this generous feeling, which urge her to
declare herself so strongly against the traffic in
men, and to demand the complete abolition of
slavery in the colonies ? When posterity shall
call to mind these glorious facts ; when it shall
adopt them as marking a new era in the annals
of civilization ; when, studying and analyzing
the causes which have conducted European
legislation and manners to so high a pitch, and,
passing over temporary and unimportant mo
tives, insignificant circumstances, and second
ary agents, it shall seek for the vital principle
which impelled European civilization towards
so glorious an eud, it will find that this principle
was Christianity; and if, desiring to fathom
the question more and more, it should inquire
whether this was Christianity, under a vague
and general form — Christianity without autho
rity — Christianity without Catholicity — the
answer of history will be this: Catholicity,
exclusively prevailing in Europe, abolished
slavery among the European races ; she intro
duced the principle of the abolition of slavery
into European civilization, by showing practi
cally, and in opposition to the opinion of anti
quity, that slavery was not necessary for
society ; and she made it understood, that the
sacred work of enfranchisement was the foun
dation of all great and life-giving civilization.
She has therefore inoculated European civilisa
tion with the principle of the abolition of
slavery ; it is owing to her that, wherever thia
civiliiation has come into contact with slavery,
it has been profoundly disturbed — an evident
proof that there were at the bottom two oppo
site elements, two contending principles, which
were compelled to struggle incessantly, until
the more powerful, noble, and fruitful prevail
ing, and reducing the other under the yoke, in
the end annihilated it. I will say more : by
searching whether facts really confirm thia
influence of Catholicity, not only in all that
concerns the civilization of Europe, but also it

NOTES.

441

the countrieB which Europeans have conquered
tiro centuries ago, in the East and ^A'est, we
shall meet with Catholic Bishops and priests
working without intermission in improving the
lot of colonial slaves ; we shall call to mind
what is due to the Catholic missions ; we shall
read and understand the apostolical letters of
Pius II., issued in 1482, and mentioned above ;
those of Paul III., in 1537 : those of Urban
VIII., in 1639; those of Benedict XIV., in
1741 ; and those of Gregory XVI., in 1839.

In these letters there is taught and denned
all that has been or can be said on this point
in favor of humanity. We shall there find
blamed, condemned, and punished, all that
European civilization has at length resolved
to condemn and punish ; and when calling to
mind also that it was Pius VIL, who, at the
beginning of this century, zealously interposed
his good offices with men in power for the com
plete abolition of slavery among Christiana, we
shall not be able to avoid acknowledging and
confessing that Catholicity has had the princi
pal share in this great work. It is she indeed
who has laid down the principle on which the
work rests, who has established the precedents
which guide it, who has constantly proclaimed
the principles which have suggested it and has
constantly condemned those who have opposed
it: it is she, in fine, who at all times has de
clared open war against cruelty and cupidity,
— the support and perpetual motives for in
justice and inhumanity. Let us hear the testi
mony of a celebrated Protestant author, Ro
bertson, the historian of America: "From the
time that ecclesiastics were sent as instructors
into America, they perceived that the rigor
with which their countrymen treated the na
tives rendered their ministry altogether fruit
less. The missionaries, in conformity with the
mild spirit of that religion which they were em
ployed to publish, soon remonstrated against
the maxims of the planters with respect to the
Americans, and condemned the repartimientoa,
or distributions, by which they were given up
as slaves to their conquerors, as no less con
trary to natural justice and tht precepts of
Christianity, than to sound policy. The Domini
cans, to whom the instruction of the Americans
<yas originally committed, were the most vehe
ment in attacking the repartimientoa. In the
year 1511, Motesino, one of their most eminent
preachers, inveighed against this practice in the
great church at St. Domingo, with all the im
petuosity of his natural eloquence. Don Diego
Columbus, the principal officers of the colony,
and all the laymen who had been his hearers,
complained of the mo/ik to his superiors ; but
they, instead of condemning, applauded his
doctrine, as equally pious and seasonable. The
Franciscans, influenced by the spirit of oppo
sition and rivalship which subsists between the
*wo orders, discovered some inclination to take
part with the laity, and to espouse the defence
of the repartimientov. But as they could not
with decency give their approbation to a sys
tem of oppression so repugnant to the spirit of
religion, they endeavored to palliate what they
could not justify, and alleged in excuse for the
conduct of their countrymen, that it was im
possible to carry on any improvement in the
oolouy, unless the Spaniards possessed such
dominion over the natives, that they could
56

compel them to labor. Ihe Dominicans, re.
gardless of such political and interested coo-
siderations, would not relax in any degree tht
rigor of their sentiments, and even refused to
i absolve, or admit to the sacrament, such of
I their countrymen as continued to hold the na-
I tives in servitude. Both parties applied to the
king for his decision in a matter of such im-
1 portance. Ferdinand empowered a committee
j of his Privy Council, assisted by some of the
i most eminent civilians and divines in Spain,
! to hear the deputies sent from Hispaaiola in
i support of their respective opinions. After a
long discussion, the speculative point in con
troversy was determined in favor of the Do
minicans ; the Indians were declared to be a
j free people, entitled to all the natural rights
of man ; but notwithstanding this decision,
j the repartimientoa were continued upon their
' ancient footing. As this determination ad-
mitted the principle upon which the Dominicans
i founded their opinion, they renewed their ef
forts to obtain relief for the Indians with addi
tional boldness and zeal. At length, in order
to quiet the colony, which wa,s alarmed by theh
remonstrances and censures, Ferdinand issued
a decree of his Privy Council (1513), declaring
that after mature consideration of the apostolic
Bull, and other titles by which the Crown of
Castile claimed a right to its possessions, in the
new world, the servitude of the Indians was
warranted both by the laws of God and man ;
that unless they were subjected to the dominion
of the Spaniards, and compelled to reside under
their inspection, it would be impossible to re
claim them from idolatry, or to instruct them
in the Christian faith ; that no further scruple
ought to be entertained concerning the lawful
ness of the repartimientoSf as the King and
Council were willing to take the charge of that
] upon their own consciences; and that therefore
the Dominicans, and monks of other religious
orders, should abstain for the future from those
; invectives which, from an excess of charitable
\ but ill-informed zeal, they had uttered against
j the practice. That his intention of adhering
j to this decree might be fully understood, Ferdi
nand conferred new grants of Indians upon
' several of his courtiers. But in order that he
i might not seem altogether inattentive to the
rights of humanity, he published an edict, in
which he endeavored to provide for the mild
treatment of the Indians under the yoke to
which he subjected them ; he regulated the
nature of the work which they should be re
quired to perform ; he prescribed the mode in
which they should be clothed and fed, and gave
directions with respect to their instruction in
the principles of Christianity. But the Do
minicans, who, from their experience of what
had passed, judged concerning the future, soon
perceived the inefficacy of those provisions,
and foretold that, as long as it was the interest
of individuals to treat the Indians with rigor,
no public regulations would render their servi
tude mild or tolerable. They considered it as
vain to waste their own time and strength in
attempting to communicate the sublime truths
to men whose spirits were broken, and their
faculties impaired by oppression. Some of
them, in despair, requested the permission of
their superiors to remove to the continent, and
pursue the object of their mission among such

442

MOTES.

of the nktires as were not hitherto corrupted
by the example of the Spaniards, or alienated
by their cruelty from the Christian faith. Such
as remained in Hispaniola continued to remon
strate, with decent firmness, against the servi
tude of the Indians.

" The violent operations of Albuquerque, the
new distributor of the Indians, revived the zeal
of the Dominicans against the repartimientos,
and called forth an advocate for that oppressed
people who possessed all the courage, the ta
lents, and the activity requisite in supporting
such a desperate cause. This was Bartholomew
de las Casas, a native of Seville, and one of
the clergymen sent out with Columbus in his
second voyage to Hispaniola, in order to settle
\n that Island. He early adopted the opinion
prevalent among ecclesiastics with respect to
the unlawfulness of reducing the natives to
servitude ; and that he might demonstrate the
sincerity of his conviction, he relinquished all
the Indians who had fallen to his share in the
division of the inhabitants among their con
querors, declaring that he should ever bewail
his own misfortune and guilt, in having exer
cised for a moment this impious dominion over
his fellow-creatures. From that time he be
came the avowed patron of the Indians ; and
by his bold interpositions in their behalf, as
well as by the respect due to his abilities and
character, he had often the merit of setting
some bounds to the excesses of his country
men." (History of America, book 3.)

It would be too long to relate here the ener
getic eiforts of De las Casas in favor of the
colonies of the new world ; all know them —
all must know that, filled with zeal for the
liberty of the Indians, he conceived and under
took an attempt at civilization analogous to
that which was realized later, to the immortal
honor of the Catholic Clergy, in Paraguay.
If the efforts of De las Casas had not all the
success that might naturally have been ex
pected, we find the cause of this in the thou
sand passions with which history makes us
acquainted, and perhaps also in the impetuosity
of this man, whose sublime zeal was not always
accompanied by the consummate prudence
which the Church displays.

However this may be, Catholicity has com
pletely accomplished her mission of peace and
love ; without injustice or catastrophe, she has
broken the chains under which a large portion
of the human race groaned ; and if it had been
given her to prevail for some time in Asia and
Africa, she would have achieved their destruc
tion in the four quarters of the globe, by
banishing the degradations and the abomina
tions introduced and established in those coun
tries by Mahometanisin and idolatry. It is
melancholy, no doubt, that Christianity has
not yet exercised over these latter countries all
the influence which would have been necessary
to ameliorate the social an I political condition
of those nations, by changing their ideas and
manners. But if we seek for the causes of
this lamentable delay, we certainly shall not
find them in the conduct of Catholicity. This
is not the place to point out these causes;
nevertheless, while reserving the analysis and
complete examination of this matter for another
part of the work, I will make the remark en
wu*ant, that Protestantism may justly crimi

nate itself for the obstacles which, during thre«
centuries, it has opposed to the universality
and efficacy of the Christian influence on infi
del nations. These few words will suffice here ;
we shall return to this important subject later.

NOTE 16, p. 131.

We can scarcely believe how far the ideas
of the ancients went astray with regard to the
respect which is due to man. Can it be believed
that they went so far, as to regard the lives of
all who could not be useful to society as of no
ralue ? and yet nothing is more certain. We
might lament that this or that city had adopted
a barbarous law ; that a ferocious custom waa
introduced among a people by the effect of par
ticular circumstances ; yet as long as philoso
phy protested against such attempts, human
reason would have been unstained, and could
not have been accused without injustice of
taking part in infamous attempts at abortion
or infanticide. But when we find crime de
fended and taught by the most important phi
losophers of antiquity; when we see it triumph
in the minds of the most illustriou? men, who,
with fearful calmness and serenity, prescribe
the atrocities which we have named, we are
confounded, and our blood runs cold; we would
fain shut our eyes, not to see so much infamy
thrown upon philosophy and human reason.
Let us hear Plato in his Republic, in that book
in which he undertook to collect all the theo
ries in his opinion the most distinguished and
the best adapted to lead human society towards
its beau ideal. This is his scandalous language:
"Oportet profecto secunduin ea quae supra
concessimus, optimos viros mulieribus optimia
ut plurimum congredi: deterrimos autem con
tra, deterrimis. Et illorem quidem prolem
nutrire, horum minime, si armentum excel-
lentissimum sit futurum. Et haec omnia dum
agantur, ab omnibus praeterquam a principibus
ignorari, si modo armentum custodum debeat
seditione carere." " Prope adinodurn ;" "Very
good," replies another speaker. ( Plat. Rep, 1. v.)

Behold, then, the human race reduced to the
condition of mere brutes ; in truth, the phi
losopher had reason to use the word flock
(armentum) ! There is this difference, how
ever, that magistrates imbued with such feel
ings must have been more harsh towards their
subjects than a shepherd towards his flock. If
the shepherd finds among the lambs which
have just been born a weak and lame one, he
does not kill it or allow it to die of hunger; he
carries it to the sheep who ought to nourish it,
he caresses it to stop its cries.

But perhaps the expressions which we have
just quoted escaped the philosopher in a mo
ment of inadvertence ; perhaps the idea which
they reveal was only one of those sinister in
spirations which glide into the mind of a man,
and pass away without leaving any more im
pression than is made by a reptile moving
through the grass. We wish it were so, for
the fame of Plato ; but unhappily he returni
to it so often, and insists on the point with so
systematic a coldness, that no means of justi
fying him are left. " With respect," he sayi
lower down, "to the children of citizens of
inferior rank, and even those of other citizen*,
if they are born deformed, the magistrate!

NOTES.

44*

•hall hide them, as is proper, in some secure
place, which it shall be forbidden to reveal."
" Yes," replies one of the interlocutors ; " if
we desire to preserve the race of warriors in
its purity."

Plato also lays down various rules with
respect to the relations of the two sexes ; he j
spe.iks of the case in which the man and wo
man shall have reached an advanced age :
" Quando igitur jam mulieres et viri aatatem
ger.erationi up cam egrcssi fuerint, licere viris
diceitus, cuicuinque voluerint, praeterquam
filiae atque matri et filiarum natis matrisve
majoribus : licere et mulieribus cuilibet, praj-
terquam filio atque patri, ac superioribus et
inferioribus eoruuideui. Cum vero haic omnia
inandaverimus, interdicemus foetum talem (si
contigeret) edi et in lucem yroduci. Si quid
autem matrem parere coegerit, ita exponere
praocipiemus, quasi ei nulla nutritio sit."

Plato seems to have been very well pleased
with his doctrine ; for, in the very book in
which he writes what we have just seen, he
lays down the famous maxim, that the evils
of states will never be remedied, that societies
will never be well governed, until philosophers
shall become kings, or kings become philoso
phers. God preserve us from seeing on the
throne a philosophy such as his ! Moreover,
his wish for the reign of philosophy has been
realized in modern times. What do I say ? It
has had more than empire ; it has been deified,
and divine honors have been paid to it in
public temples. I do not believe, however,
that the happy days of the worship of reason
are now much regretted.

The horrible doctrine which we have just
seen in Plato was transmitted with fidelity to
future schools. Aristotle, who on so many
points took the liberty of departing from the
doctrines of his master, did not think of cor
recting those which regard . abortion and in
fanticide. In his Politics he teaches the same
crimes with the same calmness as Plato : " In
order," he says, " to avoid nourishing weak or
lame children, the law should direct them to
be exposed or made away with." " Propter I
multitudinem autem liberorum, ne plures sint
quiim expediat, si gentium instituta et leges
vetent procreata exponi, definitum esse oportet
procreandorum liberorum numerum. Quod si
quibus inter se copulatis et congressis, plures
liberi, quarn definitum sit, nascantur, prius-
quam sensus et vita inseratur, abortus est
foetui inferendus." (Polit. 1. vii. c. 16.)

It will be seen how much reason I had to
say that man, as man, was esteemed as noth
ing among the ancients ; that society entirely
absorbed him ; that it claimed unjust rights
ever him, and regarded him as an instrument
to be used when of service, and which it had
a right to destroy.

\*6 Sserve in the writings of the ancient
philosophers, that they make of society a kind
of whole, consisting of individuals, as the mass
of iron consists of the atoms that compose
'*; they make of it a sort of unity, to which I
all must be sacrificed ; they have no considera
tion for the sphere of individual liberty ; they
do not appear to dream that the object of
tociety is the good, the happiness of individu
als and families. According to them, this
uirty \t tiio principal good, with whioh no

thing else can be c* npared ; the greatest erU
that can happen is, that this unity should be
broken — an evil which must be avoided by all
imaginable means. " Is not the worst evil of
a state," says Plato, '• that which divides it,
and makes many out of one 1 and is not the
greatest excellence of a state, that which binds
all its parts together, and makes it one ?" Re
lying on this principle, and pursuing the de
velopment of his theory, he takes individuals
and families, and kneads them, as it were, in
order to form them into ONE compact whole.
Thus, besides education and life in common, he
wishes also to have women and children in
common ; he considers it injurious that there
should be personal enjoyments or sufferings ;
he desires that all should be common and
social ; he allows individuals to live, think,
feel, and act only as parts of a great whole.
If you read his Republic with attention, and
particularly the fifth book, you will see that
the prevailing idea of this philosopher is what
we have just explained. Let us hear Aristotle
on the same point : " As the object of society,"
he says, " is one, it is clear that the education
of all its members ought necessarily to be one
and identical. Education ought to be public,
and not private ; as things now are, each one
takes care of his children as he thinks proper,
and teaches them as he pleases. Each citizen
is a particle of society, and the care to bt>
given to a particle ought naturally to extend
to what the whole requires." (Polit. 1. viii.
c. 1.) In order to explain to us what he meana
by this common education, he concludes by
quoting with honor the education which was
given at Sparta, which every one knows con
sisted in stifling all feelings except a ferocious"
patriotism, the traits of which still make us
shudder.

With our ideas and customs, we do not know
how to confine ourselves to considering society
in this way. Individuals among us are at
tached to the social body, forming a part of it,
but without losing their own sphere — that of
the family ; and they preserve around them a
vast career, where they are allowed to exert
themselves, without coming into collision with
the colossus of society. Nevertheless, patriot
ism exists; but it is no longer a blind instinc
tive passion, urging man on to the sacrifice,
like a victim, with bandaged eyes, but it is no
reasonable, noble, and exalted feeling, which
forms heroes like those of Lepanto and Bay-
len ; which converts peaceful citizens, like
those of Gyronna and Saragossa, into lions;
which, as by an electric spark, makes a whole
people rise on a sudden without arms, and
brave death from the artillery of a numerous
and disciplined army : such was Madrid, fol
lowing the sublime Mourons of Daojz and of
Velarda.

I have already hinted, in the text, that so
ciety among the ancients claimed the right of
interfering in all that regards individuals. I
will add, that the thing went to a ridiculous
extent. Who would imagine that the law
ought to interfere in the food of a woman who
was enceinte, or in the exercise which she
should take every day ? This is what Aris
totle gravely says : " It is necessary that wo
men who are enceinte should take particular
care of their bodies; thit they should avoid

444

NOTES.

Indulgence in luxury, and using food which is
too light and weak. The legislator easily at
tains his end by prescribing and ordering them
» daily walk, in order to go to honor and ven
erate the gods, to whom it has been confided
by fate to watch over the formation of beings.
Atque hoc facile assequitur scriptor leguin, si
eis iter aliquod qnotidianum ad cultum vener-
ationemque deorum eorum, quibus sorte obti-
git, ut pnesint gignendis animantibus, injunx-
•rit ac mandaverit." (Polit. 1. vii. c. 16.)

The action of laws extended to everything;
it seems that, in certain cases, even the tears
of children could not escape this severity.
" Those," says Aristotle, " who, by means of
laws, forbid children to cry and weep, are
wrong : cries and tears serve as exercise for
children, and assist th'em in growing ; they are
an effort of nature, which relieves and invigo
rates those who are in pain." (Polit. 1. viL
c. 17.)

These doctrines of the ancients — this man
ner <jf considering the relations of individuals
with society — very well explain how castes
and slavery could be regarded as natural
among them. Who can be astonished at see
ing whole races deprived of liberty, or regard
ed as incapable of partaking of the rights of
other superior classes, when we see genera
tions of innocent beings condemned to death,
and the.ve conscientious philosophers not hav-
•ng the slightest scruple with respect to th«
egitimacy of so inhuman an act? It was not
that these philosophers had not happiness in
view as the object of society; but they had
monstrous ideas wiih respect to the means of
obtaining that happiness.

NOTB 17, p. 146.

The reader will easily dispense with my
mtering into details on the abject and shame
ful condition of women among the ancients,
and in which they still are among the moderns
where Christianity does not prevail ; moreover,
my pen would be checked eveiy moment by
•trict laws of modesty, if I were to attempt to
represent the characteristic features of this
wretched picture. The inversion of ideas was
such, that we hear men the most renowned for
their gravity and moderation rave in the most
incredible manner on this point. We will lay
aside hundreds of examples which it would be
easy to adduce; but who is ignorant of the
scandalous advice of the saye Solon, with re
spect to the lending of women for the purpose
of improving the race ? Who has not blushed
to read what the divine Plato, in his Republic,
says of the propriety and manner of making
women share in the public games ? Let us
throtv a veil over recollections so dishonour
able to human wisdom. When the chief legis-

•ttors and sages so far forgot the first elements
of morality, and the most ordinary inspirations
of nature, what must have been the case with

he vulgar? How fearfully true those words
OT the sacred text which represent to us the
nations deprived- of the light of Christianity as
sitting in darknena and in the shadow of death !
There is nothing more fatal to woman, no
thing more apt to degrade her, than tha,t which
U jijurious to modesty : xnd yet we see that
the unlimited power granted to man over woman

contributed to this degradation, and r

her, among certain nations, to be nothing but •
slave. Losing sight of the manners of other
nations, let us consider those of the Roman!
for a moment. Among them the formula, ubi
tu Cayus ego Caya, seemed to indicate a sub
jection so slight, that it might almost be called
an equality; but in order to appreciate thia
equality, it is enough to recollect that, at
Rome, a husband could put his wife to d«atu
by his own authority, and that not only in ;&•
case of adultery, but for offences infinitely leaf
serious. In the time of Romulus, Egnacina
Menecius was acquitted of a similar crime,
although his wife had done nothing more than
drink wine from a cask. These traits describe
a nation, whatever importance you may besides
think proper to attach to the solicitude of the
Romans to prevent their matrons from becom
ing addicted to wine. When Cato directed an
embrace, as a proof of affection, among relations,
for the purpose, as Pliny relates, of ascertaining
whether the women smelt of wine, an temetum
olerent, it is true he showed his strictness ; but
it was an unworthy outrage offered to the
honor of the women themselves whose virtue
it pretended to preserve. There are som*
remedies worse than the disease.

NOTB 18, p. 157.

The antichristian philosophy must have had
considerable influence on the desire to find
among the barbarians the origin of the eleva
tion of the female character in Europe, and of
some other principles of our civilization. Indeed
as soon as you discover the source of these
admirable qualities in the forests of Germany,
Christianity is stripped of a portion of its
honors ; and what was its own and peculiar
glory is divided among many. I will not deny
that the Germans of Tacitus are sufficiently
poetical ; but it is difficult to believe that the
real Germans were so to any extent. Some
passages inserted in the text add great force to
our conjecture ; but what appears to me emi
nently calculated to dissipate all these illusions
is, the history of the invasion by the barbarians,
above all that which has been written by eye
witnesses. The picture, far from continuing po
etical, then becomes disgusting in the extreme.
This interminable succession of nations passes
before the eyes of the reader, like an alarming
vision in an evil dream ; and certainly the first
idea which occurs to us at the sight of this picture
is, not to seek for any of the qualities of modern
civilization in these invading hordes ; but the
great difficulty is, to know how this chaos haa
been reduced to order, and how it las been pos
sible to produce from such I irbarism the
noblest and most brilliant civilization that haa
ever been seen on earth. Tacitus appear? to
be an enthusiast; but Sidonius, who wrote at
no great distance from the barbarians, who
saw them, and suffered from meeting them,
does not partake of this enthusiasm. "I find
i myself," he said, "among long-haired nations,
compelled to hear the German language, and
to applaud, at whatever cost, the song of the
drunken Burgundian, with hair plastered with
' rancid grease. Happy your ei/en who do not *««
i them ; happy your ears whc do not he «r them f
If space permitted, it woul 1 be easy for me to

NOTES.

445

accumulate a thousand passages which would
evidently show what the barbarians were, and
whit could be expected from them in all re
spects. It is as clear as the light of day, that
it was the design of Providence to employ these
nations to destroy the Roman empire, and
change the face of the world. The invaders
seem to have had a feeling of their terrible
mission. They march, they advance, they
know not whither they go ; but they know well
that they go to destroy. Attila called himself
the scourge of God. The same barbarian him
self denned his formidable duty in these words :
(< The star falls, the sea is moved ; 1 am the I
hammer of the earth. Where my horse passes,
the grass never grows." Alaric, marching to
wards the capital of the world, said : "/ cannot
ttop ; there is some one uryes me, who excites me
to nack Rome." Genseric prepares a naval ex
pedition ; his troops are on board, he himself
embarks : no one knows the point towards
which he will direct his sails. The pilot ap
proaches the barbarian, and asks him ; " J/y
lord, against what nations will you wage war ?"
"Against those who have provoked the anger of
God," replies Genseric.

If Christianity, in the midst of this catastro
phe, had not existed in Europe, civilization
would have been lost and annihilated, perhaps
forever. But a religion of light and love was
sure to triumph over ignorance and violence.
Even during the times of the calamities of the
invasion, that religion prevented many dis
asters, owing to the ascendency which it began
to exercise over the barbarians ; the most
critical moment being past, the conquerors
having become in some degree settled, she
immediately employed a system so vast, so
efficacious, so decisive, that the conquerors
found themselves conquered, not by arms, but
by charity. It was not in the power of the
Church to prevent the invasion; God had de
creed it, and His decree must be accomplished.
Thus the pious monk who went to meet Alaric
approaching Rome, could not stop him on his
march, because the barbarian answered him,
that he could not stop, — that there was some
one who urged him on, and that he advanced
against his own will. But the Church awaited
the barbarians after the conquest, knowing that
Providence would not abandon His own work,
that the hope of the future lot of nations was
left in the hands of the spouse of Jesus Christ;
on this account does Alaric advance on Rome,
sack, and destroy it; but on a sudden, finding
himself in presence of religion, he stops, be
comes mollified, and appoints the Churches of
St. Peter and St. Paul as places of refuge. A
remarkable fact, and an admirable symbol of the
Christian religion preserving the universe from
total ruin.

NOTE 19, p. 165.

The great benefit conferred on modern
society by the formation of a pure and correct
public conscience, would acquire extraordinary
value in our eyes, if we compared our moral
ideas with those of all other nations, ancient
and modern ; the result of such an examination
would be, to show in how lamentable a manner
good principles become c». Tupted, when they
we ^onfidod to the reason of man. I will

2N

content myself, however, with a tew word*
on the ancients, in order to skow how cor
rect I was in saying that our manners, however
corrupt they may be, would have appeared
a model of morality and dignity to the hea
thens.

The temples consecrated to Venus in Babv-
lon and Corinth are connected with abomina
tions such as to be even incomprehensible.
Deified passion required sacrifices worthy of it ;
a divinity without modesty required the sacri
fice of modesty ; and the sacred name of
Temple was applied to asylums of the most
unbridled licentiousness. There was not a veil
even for the greatest crimes. It is known how
the daughters of Chypre gained a dowry for
their marriage ; all have heard of the mysteries
of Adonis, Priapus, and other impure divinities.
There are vices which, as it were, want a name
among the moderns : or if they have one, it is
accompanied by the recollection of a terrible
chastisement inflicted on some criminal cities.
In reading the histories of antiquity descriptive
of the manners of their times, the book falls
from our hands. On this subject we must be
content with these few hints, calculated to
awaken in the minds of our readers the recol
lection of what has a thousand times excited
their indignation in reading the history and
studying the literature of pagan antiquity.
The author is compelled to be satisfied with a
recollection : he abstains from a description.

NOTE 20, p. 171.

It is now so common to exalt beyond measure
the power of ideas, that some persons will per
haps consider exaggerated what I have said
with respect to their want of power, not only to
influence society, but even to preserve them
selves, while, remaining in the mere sphere of
ideas, they do not become realized in institu
tions, which are their organ, and at the same
time their rampart and defence.

I am very far, as I have clearly stated in the
text, from denying or calling in question what
is called the power of ideas : I only mean to
show that, alone and by themselves, ideas have
little power; and that science, properly so
called, as far as the organization of society is
concerned, is a much less important thing than
is generally supposed. This doctrine has an
intimate connection with the system followed
by the Catholic Church, which, while con
stantly endeavoring to develope the human
mind by means of the propagation of the
sciences, has nevertheless assigned to them a
secondary part in the regulation of society.
While religion has never been opposed to true
science, never, on the other hand, has sh»
ceased to show a certain degree of mistrust
with respect to all that was the exclusive pro
duction of human thought; and observe thai
this is one of the chief differences between re
ligion and the philosophy of the last age ; or,
we should rather say, it was the cause of their
violent antipathy. Religion did not condemn
science ; on the contrary, she loved, protected,
and encouraged it ; but at the same time sh*
marked out its limits, warned it that ;'twa*
blind on some points, announcad to it that it
would be powerless in some of its labors, an«l
that in others its action would be destruoti^*

446

NOTES.

and fatal. Philosophy, on the contrary, loudly
proclaimed the sovereignty of science, declared
it to be all-powerful, and deified it; it attri
buted to it strength and courage to change the
face of the world, and wisdom and foresight
enough to work this change for the good of
humanity. This pride of knowledge, this dei
fication of thought, is, if you observe closely,
the foundation of Protestant doctrine. All
authority being taken away, reason is the only
competent judge, the intellect receives directly
and immediately from God all the light which
is necessary. This is the fundamental doctrine
of Protestantism, that is to say, the pride of
the mind.

If we closely observe, even the triumph of
revolutions has in no degree nullified the wise
anticipations of religion ; and knowledge, pro
perly so called, instead of gaining any credit
from this triumph, has entirely lost what it
had: there remains nothing of the revolu
tionary knowledge ; what remains is the effects
of the revolution, the interests created by it,
the institutions which have arisen from those
interests, and which, since that time, have
sought in the department of science itself our
principles to support them, — principles alto
gether different from those which had been
proclaimed in the beginning.

I have said that every idea has need of being
realized in an institution ; this is so true, that
revolutions themselves, warned by the instinct
which leads them to preserve, with more or less
integrity, the principles whence they have
arisen, tend from the first to create those insti
tutions in which the revolutionary doctrines
may be perpetuated, or to constitute succes
sors to represent them when they shall have
disappeared from the schools. This may lead
to many reflections on the origin and present
condition of several forms of governments in
different countries of Europe.

When speaking of the rapidity with which
acientific theories succeed each other, when
pointing out the immense development which
the press has given to the field of discussion, I
have shown that this was not an infallible sign
of scientific progress, still less a guarantee for
the fertility of human thought in realizing
great things in the material and social order.
I have said that grand conceptions proceed
rather from intuition than from discourses ; and
on this subject I have recalled to mind histori
cal events and personages which place this
matter beyond a doubt. In support of this
assertion, ideology might have furnished us
with abundant proofs, if it were necessary to
have recourse to science itself to prove its own
sterility. But mere good sense, taught by the
essons of experience daily, is enough to con
vince us that the men who are the most able
in theory are, often enough, not only mediocre,
but even weak in the exercise of authority.
With regard to the hints which I have thrown
out with respect to "intuition "and "dis
courses," I leave them to the judgment of any
one who has applied to tne study of the hu
man mind. I am confident that the opinion
of those who have reflected will not differ
from my own.

NOTE 21, p. 175.

I have attributed to Christianity ths gentle
ness of manners which Europe now enjoy*.
Yet, in spite of the decline of religious belief
in the last century, this gentleness of manners,
instead of being destroyed, has only beeD
raised to a higher degree. This contrast, the
effect of which, at first sight, is to destroj
what I have established, requires some expla
nation. First of all, we must recollect the dis
tinction pointed out in the text between effem
inacy and gentleness of manners. The first is
a fault, the second a valuable quality ; the first
emanates from enervation of the mind and
weakening of the body ; the second is owing
to the preponderance of reason, the empire of
the mind over the body, the triumph of justice
over force, of right over might. There is a
large portion of real gentleness in manners at
the present day, but luxury has also a consid
erable part therein. This luxury of manners
has certainly not arisen from religion, but from
infidelity ; the latter, never extending its view
beyond the present life, causes the lofty desti
nies, and even the very existence of the soul,
to be forgotten, puts egotism upon the throne,
constantly excites and keeps alive the love of
pleasure, and makes man the vile slave of his
passions. On the contrary, at the first sight,
we perceive that our manners owe all their
gentleness to Christianity ; all the ideas, all
the feelings, on which this gentleness is found
ed, bear the mark of Christianity. The dig
nity of man, his rights, the obligation of treat
ing him with tbe respect which is due to him,
and of appealing to his mind by reason rather
than to his body by violence, the necessity im
posed on every one of keeping within the line
of his duty, of respecting the property and the
persons of others, — all this body of principles,
to which real gentleness of manners is owing,
is due, in Europe, to the influence of Christi
anity, which, after a struggle of many centu
ries against the barbarism and ferocity of
invading nations, succeeded in destroying the
system of violsnce which these same nations
had made general.

As philosophy has taken care to change the
ancient names consecrated by religion, and
authorized by the usage of a succession of
ages, it happens that some ideas, although the
produce of Christianity, are scarcely acknow
ledged as such, only because they are disguised
under a worldly dress. Who does not know
that mutual love among men and fraternal
charity are ideas entirely due to Christianity ?
Who does not know that pagan antiquity did
not acknowledge them, that it even despised
them ? And nevertheless, this affection, which
was formerly called charity, because charity
was the virtue from which it took its legitimate
origin, has constantly taken care to assume
other names, as if it were ashamed to be seen
in public with any appearance of religion.
The mania for attacking the Christian religion
being passed, it is openly confessed that the
principle of universal charity is owing to her;
but language remains infected with Voltairian
philosophy even since the discredit into which
that philosophy has fallen. Whence it follows,
that we very often do not appreciate as we

NOTES.

447

ought the influen oe of Christianity on the so
ciety which surrcunds us, and that wo attri
bute to other ideas and other causes the phe
nomena which are evidently owing to religion.
Society at present, in spite of all its indiffer
ence, is more indebted to religion than is
commonly supposed; it resembles those men,
who, born of an illustrious family, in which
good principles and a careful education are
transmitted as an inheritance from generation
to generation, preserve in their manners and
behavior, even in the midst of their disorders,
their crimes, and I will even venture to say,
their degradation, some traits which denote
their noble origin.

NOTE 22, p. 183.

A few regulations of Councils, quoted in the
text, are sufficient to give an idea of the sys
tem pursued by the Church for the purpose of
reforming and softening manners. It may be
remarked that, on previous occasions during
this work, I have a strong inclination to call
to mind monuments of this kind ; I will state
here that I have two reasons for doing this :
1. When having to compare Protestantism with
Catholicity, I believe that the best means of
representing the real spirit of the latter is, to
show it at work ; this is done when we bring
to light the measures which were adopted, ac
cording to different circumstances, by Popes
and Councils. 2. Considering the direction
which historical studies take in Europe, and
the taste, which is daily becoming more gen
eral, not for histories, but for historical docu
ments, it is proper always to bear in mind that
the proceedings of Councils are of the highest
importance, not only in historical and ecclesi
astical matters, but also in political and social
ones ; so that to pay no attention to the data
which are found in the records of Councils, is
monstrously to mutilate, or rather wholly to
destroy, the history of Europe.

On this account it is very useful, and even
necessary in many things, to consult these re
cords, although it may be painful to our indo
lence, on account of their enormous extent and
the ennui of finding many things devoid of in
terest for our times. The sciences, above all
those which have society for their object, lead
to satisfactory results only by means of pain
ful labors. What is useful is frequently mixed
and confounded with what is not. The most
valuable things are sometimes found by the
side of repulsive objects ; but in nature, do we
find gold without having removed rude masses
of earth ?

Those who have attempted to find the germ
cf the precious qualities of European civiliza
tion among the barbarians of the north, should
undoubtedly hare attributed the gentleness of
ur manners to the same barbarians ; they
would have had in support of this paradox a
fact certainly more specious than that which
they have relied on to give the honor of ele
vating European women to the Germans. I
allude to the well-known custom of avoiding
the infliction of corporal punishments, and of
chastising the gravest offences by fines only.
Nothing is more likely to make us believe that
these nations were happily inclined to gentle
ness of manners, since, in the midst of their

barbarism, they used the right of punishment
with a moderation which is not found even
among the most civilized and refined nations.
If we regard the thing in this point of view,
it seems as if the influence of Christianity on
the barbarians had the effect of rendering their
manners more harsh instead of more gentle ;
indeed, after Christianity was introduced, the
infliction of corporal punishments became gen
eral, and even that of death was not exclude.
But when we attentively consider this pecn
liarity of the criminal code of the barbarians,
we shall see that, far from showing the advance
ment of their civilization and the gentleness of
their manners, it is, on the contrary, the most
evident proof that they were behind-hand; it
is the strongest index of the harshness and bar
barism which reigned among them. In the first
place, inasmuch as crimes among them were
punished by means of fines, or, as it was called,
by composition, k, is clear that the law paid
much more attention to repairing an injury
than to punishing a crime; a circumstance
which clearly shows us how little they thought
about the morality of the action, as they at
tended not so much to the action itself, as to
the wrong which it inflicted. Therefore this
was not an element of civilization but of bar
barism ; this tended to nothing less than the
banishment of morality from the world. The
Church combated this principle, as fatal in pub
lic as in private affairs ; she introduced into
criminal legislation a new set of ideas, which
completely changed its spirit. On this point
M. (iuizot has done full justice to the Catholic
Church. I am delighted to acknowledge and to
insert this homage here by transcribing his own
words. After having pointed out the difference
which existed between the laws of the Visi
goths, derived in great part from the Councils
of Toledo, and the other barbarian laws, M.
Guizot signalizes the immense superiority of
the ideas of the Church in matters of legisla
tion, of justice, and in all that concerns the
search after truth and the lot, of men ; he adds :
" In criminal matters, the relation of crimes to
punishments is fixed (in the laws of the Visi
goths) according to sufficiently just, philoso
phical, and moral notions. We there perceive
the efforts of an enlightened legislator, who
contends against the violence and rashness of
barbarian manners. The chapter De ccede el
morte hominum, compared with the correspond
ing laws of other nations, is a very remarka
ble exanfple of this. Elsewhere, it is almost
exclusively the injury which seems to consti
tute the crime, and the punishment is sought
in that material reparation which is the result
of composition. Here, the crime is referred to
its real and moral element, the intention. The
different shades of criminality, absolutely vo
luntary homicide, homicide by inadvertence,
provoked homicide, homicide with or without
premeditation, are distinguished and defined
almost as well as in our own codes, and the
punishments vary in a proportion equally just.
The justice of the legislator has gone still
further. He has attempted, if not io abolish,
at least to diminish the diversity oi ..egal value
established among men by the other barbarian
laws. The only distinction which it preserves
is that of freeman and slave. With respect to
freeman, the punishment varies neither with

148

NOTES.

the ort&iii no? tno rank of the deceased, but
only according to the different degrees of the
culpability of the murderer. With regard to
slaves, not venturing completely to withdraw
from the masters the right of life and death, it
has been attempted at least to restrain it by
subjecting it to a public and regular procedure.
The text of the law deserves to be cited.

" ' If no one guilty of, or an accomplice in,
a crime ought to remain unpunished, with how
much more reason ought he to be condemned
who has wickedly and rashly committed a ho
micide ! Thus, as masters, in their pride, often
put their slaves to death without any fault of
the latter, it is proper altogether to extirpate
this license, and to ordain that the present law
shall be forever observed by all. No master
or mistress shall put to death, without public
trial, any of their slaves, male or female, or
any person dependent on them. If a slave or
any other servant shall commit a crime which
may subject hiin to capital punishment, his
master or his accuser shall immediately inform
the judge or the count or duke of the placo
where the deed has been committed. After the
affair has been inquired into, if the crime be
proved, let the criminal undergo, either by the
judge or his own master, the sentence of death
which he has deserved ; so that, nevertheless,
if the judge be unwilling to put the accused to
death, he shall draw up in writing a, capital
sentence, and then it shall be in the power of
the master to put him to death or not. Indeed,
if the slave, with a fatal audacity, resisting his
master, has struck, or attempted to strike, him
with a weapon, with a stone, or with any other
kind of blow, and if the master, in defending
himself, has killed the slave in his passion, the
master shall be in no way subject to the punish-
aient of homicide. But it shall be necessary
to prove that the event took place thus, and
that by the testimony or oath of the slaves,
male or female, who shall have been present,
and by the oath of the author of the deed him
self. Whoever from mere malice, either by his
own hand or that of another, shall have killed
his slave without public trial, shall be marked
with infamy, declared incapable of appearing
as a witness, shall be obliged to pass the rest
of his life in exile and penance, and his goods
shall go to the nearest relations to whom they
are given by the law.' — For. Jud. liv. vi. tit.
xv. 1. 12." (Hixt. Gener. de la Civilisation en
Europe, lec.on 6.)

I have copied this passage from M. Guizot
with pleasure, because I find there a confirma
tion of what I have just said on the subject of
the influence of the Church in softening man
ners, and of what I have before stated with res
pect to the great amelioration which the Church
made in the condition of slaves, by limiting
the excessive power of their masters. This
truth is proved in its place by so many docu
ments, that it seems useless to revert to it here ;
it is enough now for my purpose, to point out
that M. Guizot fully allows that the Church
gave morality to the legislation of the barba
rians, by making them consider the wickedness
of the crime, whereas they had previously at
tended only to the injury of which it was the
cause ; she has thus transferred the action from
the physical to the moral order, giving to pu-
aishments their real character, and not allow-

ing them to remain reduced to the level of •
mere material reparation. Hence we see that
the criminal system of the barbarians, which,
at the first view, seemed to indicate progress in
civilization, was, in reality, owing to the little
ascendency which moral principles exercised
over these nations, and to the fact, that the
views of the legislator were very slightly raised
above the purely material order.

There is another observation to be made on
this point, viz. that the mildness with which
crimes were punished is the best proof of the
frequency with which they were committed.
When in a country assassinations, mutilations,
and other similar attempts are very rare, they
are regarded with horror ; those who are guilty
of them are chastised with severity. But when
crimes are very frequently committed, they in-
sensibly lose their enormity ; not only those
who commit them, but all the world become
accustomed to their hideous aspect, and the le
gislator is then naturally induced to treat them
with indulgence. This is shown us by the ex
perience of every day ; and the reader will have
no difficulty in finding in society at the pre
sent time more than one crime to which the re
mark which I have just made is applicable.
Among the barbarians, it w.as common to ap
peal to force, not only with respect to property
but also to persons ; wherefore it was natura,
that crimes of this kind should not be regard
ed by them with the same aversion, it may be
said with the same horror, as among a people
where the triumph of the ideas of reason, jus
tice, right, and law, render it impossible to con
ceive even the existence of a society where
each individual should believe himself self-en
titled to do justice to himself. Thus the laws
against these crimes naturally became milder,
the legislator contenting himself with repair
ing the injury, without paying much attention
to the culpability of the delinquent. And this
is intimately connected with what I have said
above with respect to public conscience ; for
the legislator is always more or less the organ
of this public conscience. Where an action,
in any society whatever, is regarded as a hein
ous offence, the legislator cannot decree a mild
punishment for it ; on the other hand, it is not
possble for him to chastise with great severity
what the society absolves or excuses. It will
sometimes happen that this, proportion will be
altered, that this harmony will be destroyed ;
but things soon quitting the path into which
violence forced them, will not be long in return
ing to their ordinary course. Manners being
chaste and pure, offences against them will be
covered with abhorrence and infamy ; but if
itorals be corrupted, the same acts will be re
garded with indifference ; at the most they will
be denominated slight weaknesses. Among a
people where religious ideas exercise great in
fluence, the violation of all that is conse
crated to God is regarded as a horrible out
rage, worthy of the greatest chastisements;
among another people, where infidelity ha*
made its ravages, the same violation is not
even placed on the list of ordinary offences
instead of drawing on the guilty the justice
of the law, scarcely does it draw on them
the slight correction of the police. The reader
will understand the appropriateness of this di-
o-rassion on the criminal legislation of the bar-

NOTES.

449

barians, when ne reflects that, in order ic exa
mine the influence of Catholicity on the civili
zation of Europe, it is indispensable to take
into consideration the other elements which
have concurred in forming that civilization.
Without this, it would be impossible properly
to appreciate the respective action of each of
these elements, either for good or evil ; impos
sible to bring to light the share which the
Church can exclusively claim in the great work
of our civilization ; impossible to resolve the
high question which has been raised by the
partisans of Protestantism on the subject of the
assumed advantages which the religious revo
lution of the sixteenth century has conferred
on modern society. It is because the barbari
an nations are one of these elements, that it is
so often necessary to attend to them.

NOTE 23, p. 189.

In the middle ages, almost all the monaste
ries and colleges of canons had a hospital an
nexed to them, not only to receive pilgrims,
but also to aid in the support and consolation
of the poor and the sick. If you desire to see
the noblest symbol of religion sheltering all
kinds of misfortune, consider the houses de
voted to prayer and the most sublime virtues
;onverted into asylums for the miserable. This
was exactly.what took place at that time, when
the public authority not only wanted the
strength and knowledge necessary to establish
a good administration for the relief of the un
fortunate, but did not even succeed in covering
with her aigis the most sacred interests of so
ciety; this shows us that when all was power
less, religion was still strong and fruitful ; that
when all perished, religion not only pre>erved
herself, but even founded immortal establish
ments. And pay attention to what we have
so many times pointed out, viz. that the reli
gion which worked these prodigies was not a
vague and abstract religion — the Christianity
of the Protestants; but religion with all her
dogmas, her discipline, her hierarchy, her

Never did she think that it was allowable foi
her to regard with indifference the abuses which
were introduced on this point to the prejudice
of the unfortunate; wherefore she has reserved
at least the right to remedy the evils which
might result from the wickedness or the indo
lence of the administrators. The Council of
Vienne ordains, that if the administrators of a
hospital, lay or clerical, become relaxed in the
exercise of their charge, proceedings shall be
taken against them by the Bishops, who shall
reform and restore the hospital of their own
authority, if it has no privilege of exemption,
and by delegation, if it has one. The Council
of Trent also granted to Bishops the power of
visiting the hospitals, even with the power of
delegates of the Apostolic See in the cases f\
by law ; it ordains, moreover, that the adminis
trators, lay or clerical, shall be obliged every
year to render their accounts to the ordinary
of the place, unless the contrary has been pro
vided in the foundation : and that if, by virtue
of a particular privilege, custom, or statute, the
accounts must be presented to any other than
the ordinary, at least he shall be added to those
who are appointed to receive them.

Without paying attention to the differen,
modifications which the laws and customs of
various countries may have introduced in thi«
matter, we will say that one thing remains
manifest, viz. the vigilance of the Church in all
that regards beneficence ; it is her constant ten
dency, by virtue of her spirit and maxims, to
take part in affairs of this kind, sometimes to
direct them exclusively, sometimes to remedy
the evils which may have crept in. The civil
power acknowledged the motives of this holy
and charitable ambition ; we see that the Em
peror Justinian does not hesitate to give public
authority over the hospitals to the Bishops,
thereby conforming to the discipline of the
Church and the general good.

On this point there is a remarkable fact,
which it is necessary to mention here, in ordor
to signalize its beneficent influence; I mean,
the regulation by which the property of hospi-

Bupreme Pontiff, in a word, the Catholic j tals was looked upon AS Chur?h property, — a
Church. regulation which was very far from being a

They were far from thinking in ancient times j matter of indifference, although at first sight it

that the support of the unfortunate could be
confided to the civil administration alone, or to
individual charity ; it was then thought, as I
have already said, that it was a very proper
thing that the hospitals should be subjected to
the Bishops ; that is to say, that there should
be a kind of assimilation made between the
system of public beneficence and the hierarchy
of the Church. Hence it was that, by virtue
of an ancient regulation, tho- hospitals were
under the control of the Bishops as well in
temporals as in spirituals, whether the persons
Appointed to the care of the establishments
were clerical or lay, whether the hospital had
been erected by order of the Bishop or not.

This is not the place to relate the vicissitudes
which this discipline underwent, nor the dif
ferent causes which produced the successive
changes ; it is enough to observe, that the fun
damental principle, that is, the interference of
the ecclesiastical authority in establishments
of beneficence, always remained unimpaired,
and that the Church never allowed herself to
be entirely deprived of so noble a privilege.

might appear so. Their property, thereby in
vested with the same privileges as that of the
Church, was protected by an inviolability so
much the more necessary as the times were the
more difficult, and the more abounding in out
rages and usurpations. The Church which,
notwithstanding all the public troubles, pre
served great authority and a powerful ascen
dency over governments and nations, had thus
a simple and powerful claim to extend her
protection over the property of hospitals, and
to withdraw them as much as possible from the
cupidity and the rapacity of the prwerfm.
And it must not be supposed that this doctrine
was introduced with any indirect design, nor
that this kind of community, this assimilation
between the Church and the poor, was an un
heard-of novelty ; on the contrary, this assimi
lation was so well suited to the common order
of things, it was so entirely founded on the
relations between the Church and the poor,
that if the property of the hospitals had the
privilege of being considered as the property
of the Church, that of the Church, on the othei

2H2

NOTES

aand, was called the property of the poor. It
Is in these terms that the holy Fathers express
themselves oa this point : these doctrines had
so much affected the ordinary language, that
when, at a later period, the canonical question
»rith respect to the ownership of the goods of
the Church had to be solved, there were found
by the side of those who directly attributed
this property to God, to the Pope, to the clergy,
some who pointed out the poor as being the
real proprietors. It is true that this opinion
was not the most conformable to the principles
of law ; but the mere fact of its appearing on
the field of controversy is a matter for grave
consideration.

NOTE 24, p. 196.

A few reflections, in the form of a note, on a
certain maxim of toleration professed by a phi
losopher of the last century, Rousseau, would
not bo out of place here ; but the analogy of
the following chapter with that which we have
just finished induces us to reserve them for
note 25. The considerations to which the
opinion of Rousseau will lead, apply to the
question of toleration in religious matters, as
well as to the right of coercion exercised by
the civil and political power ; I therefore beg
my reader to reserve for the following note
the attention which he might be willing to af
ford me now.

NOTE 25, p. 203.

For the purpose of clearing up ideas on tole
ration as far as lay in my power, I have pre
sented this matter in a point of view but little
known ; in order to throw still more light upon
it, I will say a few words on religious and civil
intolerance, — things which are entirely differ
ent, although Rousseau absolutely afiirms the
contrary. Religious or theological intolerance
consists in the conviction, that the only true
religion is the Catholic, — a conviction common
to all Catholics. Civil intolerance consists in
not allowing in society any other religions
than the Catholic. These two definitions are
lufficient to make every man of common sense
understand that the two kinds of intolerance
are not inseparable ; indeed, we may very
easily conceive that men firmly convinced of
the truth of Catholicity may tolerate those who
profess another religion, or none at all. Reli
gious intolerance is an act of the mind, an act
inseparable from faith ; indeed, whoever has a
firm belief that his own religion is true, must
necessarily be convinced that it is the only
true one ; for the truth is one. Civil intole
rance is an act whereby the will rejects those
who do not profess the same religion ; this act
has different results, according as the intole
rance is in the individuals or in the govern
ment. On the other hand, religious tolerance
consists in believing that all religions are true ;
which, when rightly understood, means that
none are true, since it is impossible for contra
dictory things to be true at the same time.
Civil tolerance is, to allow men who entertain a
different religion to live in peace. This tole
rance, as well as the co-relative intolerance,
produces different effects, according as it exists
In individuals or in the government.

This distinction which, from its clearnjsi
and simplicity, is within the reach of the most
ordinary minds, has nevertheless been mis
taken by Rousseau, who affirms that it is a
vain fiction, a chimera, which cannot be real
ized, and that the two kinds of intolerance
cannot be separated from each other. Rous
seau might have been content with observing,
that religious intolerance, that is to say, as I
have explained above, the firm conviction that
a religion is true, if it is general in a country,
must produce, in the ordinary intercourse of
life as well as in legislation, a certain tendency
not to tolerate any one who thinks differently,
principally when those who dissent are very
limited in number; his observation would then
have been well founded, and would have agreed
with the opinion which I have expressed on
this point, when I attempted to represent the
natural course of ideas and events in this mat
ter. But Rousseau does not consider things
under this aspect : desiring to attack Catho
licity, he affirms that the two kinds of intole
rance are inseparable ; " for," says he, " it is
impossible to live in peace with those whom
one believes to be damned ; to love them would
be to hate God, who punishes them." It is
impossible to carry misrepresentation further:
who told Rousseau that the Catholics believe
in the damnation of any man, whoev^- ho may
be, as long as he lives ; and that they think
that to love a man who is in error would be to
hate God ? On the contrary, could he be igno
rant that it is a duty, an indispensable precept,
a dogma, for Catholics to love all men ? Could
he be ignorant that even children, in the first
rudiments of Christian doctrine, learn that we
are obliged to love our neighbor as ourselves,
and that by this word neighbor is meant who
ever has gained heaven, or may gain it ; so that
no man, so long as he lives, is excluded from
this number? But Rousseau will say, you are
at least convinced that those who die in that
fatal state are condemned. Rousseau does not
observe that we think exactly the same with
respect to sinners, although their sin be not
that of heresy ; now, it has not come into the
head of any body that good Catholics cannot
tolerate sinners, and that they consider them
selves under the obligation of hating them.
What religion shows more eagerness to convert
the wicked? The Catholic Church is so far
from teaching that we ought to hate them, that
she causes to be repeated a thousand times, in
pulpits, in books, and in conversations, those
words whereby God shows that it is His will
that sinners shall not perish, that He wills that
they shall be converted and live, that there is
more joy in heaven when one of them has done
penance, than upon the ninety-nine just who
need not penance. And let it not be imagined
that the man who thus expresses himself
against the intolerance of Catholics was the
partizan of complete toleration ; on the cou-
trary, in society, such as he imagined it, he
did not desire toleration for those who did not
belong to the religion which the civil power
thought proper to establish. It is true that he
is not at all anxious that the citizens should
belong to the true religion. " Laying aside/'
he says, " political considerations, let us return
to the right, and let us lay down principles on
this important point. The risfht which th*

NOTES. 451

l pact gives to the sovereign over his sub
ject doss not exceed, as I have said, the
bounds of public utility. Subjects, therefore,
are accountable to their sovereign for their
opinions, inasmuch as those opinions are of
importance to the community. Now, it is of
great importance to the state, that every citi
zen should have a religion which shall make
him love his duties; but the dogmas of that
religion interest the state and its members only
inasmuch as those dogmas affect morality and
the duties which those who profess it are
bound to perform towards others. As for the
rest, each one may have what opinions he
pleases, without being subject to the cogni
zance of the sovereign, for he has no power in
the other world; it is not his affair what may
be the lot of his subjects in the life to come,
provided they be good citizens in this. There
is, therefore, a profession of faith purely civil,
the articles whereof it belongs to the sovereign
to fix, not exactly as dogmas of religion, but
as social sentiments, without which it is im
possible to be a good citizen or a faithful sub
ject. Without being able to compel any one
to believe them, it can banish from the state
him who does not believe them; it can banish
him, not as wicked, but as anti-social, as inca
pable of sincerely loving the laws and justice,
and of sacrificing his life to his duty. *If any
one, after having publicly acknowledged these
dogmas, conducts himself as if he did not be
lieve them, let him be punished with death ; he
has committed the greatest of crimes, he has
lied against the laws." (JJu Coiitrat Social, 1.
iv. c. 8.)

Such, then, is the final result of the toleration
of Rousseau, viz. to give to the sovereign the
power of tJxing articles of faith, to grant to him
the right of punishing with banishment, or
even leath, those who will not conform to the
decisions of this new Pope, or who shall violate
after having embraced them. However strange
the doctrine of Rousseau may appear, it is not
excluded from the general system of those who
do not acknowledge the supremacy of authority
in religious matters. When this supremacy is to
be attributed to the Catholic Church, or its
head, it is rejected ; and, by the most striking
contradiction, it is granted to the civil power.
It is very singular that Rousseau, when ban
ishing or putting to death the man who quits
the religion fashioned by the sovereign, does
not wish him to be punished as impious, but as
anti-social. Rousseau, following an impulse
very natural in him, did not wish that impiety
should be at all taken into account when
punishments were to be inflicted; but of what
consequence is the name given to his crime to
the man who is banished or put to death? In
the same chapter, he allows an expression to
escape him, which reveals at once the object
which he had in view in all this show of philo
sophy : "Whoever dares to affirm that out of
the Church there "'a no salvation, ought to be
driven from tbe dtate." Which means, in other
words, that toleration ought to be given to all
except Catholicg. It has been said, that the
Contrat Social was the code of the French
revolution; and, indeed, the latter did not for
get what the tolerant legislator has prescribed
with respect to Catholics. Few persons now.
recture to declare themselves the disciples of I

the philosopher of Geneva, although some of
his timid partisans still lavish on him unmea
sured eulogies. Let us have sufficient confi
dence in the gooa sense of the human race, to
hope that all posterity, with a unanimous voice,
will confirm the stamp of ignominy with which
all men of sense have alreaiy marked that
turbulent sophist, the impudent author ; f th«
Confessions.

When comparing Protestantism with Catho
licity, I was obliged to treat of intolerance, a*
it is one of the reproaches which are most fre
quently made against the Catholic religion;
but my respect for truth compels me to state,
that all Protestants have not preached universal
toleration ; and that many of them have ac
knowledged the right of checking and punishing
certain errors. Grotius, Puffendorf, and some
more of the wisest men that Protestantism can
boast of, are agreed on this point; therein they
have followed the example of all antiquity,
which, in theory as well as in practice, has
constantly conformed to these principles. A
cry has been raised against the intolerance of
Catholics, as if they had been the first to teach
it to the world ; as if intolerance was a cursed
monster, which was engendered only where the
Catholic Church prevailed. In default of any
other reason, good faith at least required that
it should not be forgotten that the principle of
universal toleration was never acknowledged
in any part of the world; the books of philo
sophers, and the codes of legislators, contain
the principle of intolerance with more or less
rigor. Whether it were desired to condemn
this principle as false, or to limit it, or to leave
it without application, it is clear that an accu
sation ought not to have been made against the
Catholic Church in particular, on account of
a doctrine and conduct, wherein she only con
formed to the example of the whole human
race. Refined as well as barbarous nations
would be culpable therein, if there were any
crime; and the stigma, far from deserving to
fall upon governments directed by Catholicity,
or on Catholic writers, ought to be inflicted on
all the governments of antiquity, including
those of Greece and Rome; on all the ancient
sages, including Plato, Cicero, and Seneca ; on
modern governments and sages, including Pro
testants. If men had had this present to their
minds, the doctrine would not have appeared
so erroneous, nor the facts so black ; they
would have seen that intolerance, as old as the
world, was not the invention of Catholics, and
that the whole world, ought to bear the re
sponsibility of it.

Assuredly the toleration which, in our days,
has become so general, from causes previously
pointed out, will not be affected by the doc
trines, more or less severe, more or less indul
gent, which shall be proclaimed in this matter;
but for the very reason, that intolerance, such
a,s it was practised in other times, has at last
become a mere historical fact, whereof no one
can fear the re-appearance, it is proper to enter
into an attentive examination of questions of
this kind, in order to remove the reproach
which her enemies have attempted to cast upon
the Catholic Church.

The recollection of the encyclical letter of
the Pope against the doctrines of M. de La-
mennais, and the profoind wi?dom contained

452

NOTES.

-he principle of intolerance
stood, and what use ought tC

thorrin appropriately presents itself here. ! derstand how the
That writer maintained that universal tolera- i should be underst

tion, the absolute liberty of worship, is . the ; bo made of it, the Inquisition has been" mUd
normal and legitimate state of society, — a state j and indulgent in the extreme. Rome is the
which cannot be changed without injury to the ! part of the world where humanity has suf-
rights of the man and the citizen. M. de La- | fered the least for the sake of religion ; and
mennais, combatting the encyclical letter, ! that, without the exception of any countries,
attempted to show that it established new doc- j either of those where the Inquisition has ex-
trines, and attacked the liberty of nations, j isted, or of those where it has been unknown;

No ; the Pope, in his encyclical letter, does not

of

rhere Catholicity has been p redo mi -

maintain any other doctrines than those which nant, or where Protestantism has triumphed,
have been professed up to this time by the j This fact, which cannot be denied, should suffice
Church — we may say by all governments — [ to convince everv sincere man what is the
with respect to toleration. No government i spirit of Catholicity in this matter.
can sustain itself if it is refused the right of , I make these remarks in order to show my
repressing doctrines dangerous to social order, j impartiality, to prove that I am not ignorant
whether those doctrines are covered with the of evils, and that I do not hesitate to admit
mantle of philosophy, or disguised under the them wherever I find them. Notwithstanding
veil of religion. The liberty of man is not this, I am desirous that the facts and the ob-
thereby assailed ; for the only liberty which is servations contained in the text, as well with
worthy of the name, is liberty in conformity ! respect to the Inquisition itself, and to the dif-
with reason. The Pope did not say that go- ] ferent epochs of its duration, as to the policy
vernments canuot, in certain cases, tolerate I of the kings who founded and established it,
different religions ; but he did not allow it to I shall not be forgotten. The same desire inakea
be established as a principle, that absolute | me transcribe here a few documents likely to
toleration is an obligation on all governments. I throw a stronger light upon this important sub-
This proposition is contrary to sound religious ject. In the first place, I will quote the
doctrines, to reason, to the practice of all preamble of the Pragmatic Sanction of the
governments, in all times and countries, and Catholic princes Ferdinand and Isabella, for
the good sense of mankind. The talent and the explusion of the Jews : we there find stat-
eloquence of the unfortunate author have not j ed in a few words, the outrages which the Jews
availed against this, and the Pope has obtained inflicted on religion, and the dangers with

the most solemn assent of all sensible men of
all creeds ; while the man of genius, covering
his brow with the shades of obstinacy, has not
feared to seize upon the ignoble arms of so
phistry. Unhappy genius ! who scarcely pre
serves a shadow of himself, who has folde/1 up
the splendid wings on which he sailed through

which they threatened the state.

"Book viii. chap. 2, second law of the new
Recopilacion. Don Ferdinand and Donna Isa
bella, at Granada, 30th March, 1-192. Prag
inatic Sanction.

" Having been informed that there existed in
these kingdoms bad Christians, who judaizea

the azure sky, and now, like a bird of evil I and apostatized from our holy Catholic faith,
omen, broods over the impure waters of a soli- j whereof the communication between the Jews
tary lake. and Christians was in great part the cause, we

ordained, in the Cortes held by us in Toledo,
in 1480, that the Jews in all the cities, towns.,
and other places of our kingdoms and lordships,
should be confined in the Juiferies and places

NOTE 26, p. 219.

When speaking of the Spanish Inquisition,
I do not undertake to defend all its acts either
in point of justice, or of the public advantage.
Without denying the peculiar circumstances
in which this institution was placed, I think
that it would have done much better, after the
example of the Inquisition of Rome, to avoid
as much as possible the effusion of blood. It

appointed for them to live and dwell in, hop
ing that this separation would serve as a re
medy ; we also provided and gave orders thai
an Inquisition should be appointed in our said
kingdoms ; which Inquisition, as you know, is
and has been practised for more than twelve
years, and has discovered a great number of

might have perfectly watched over the pre- delinquents, as is notorious. As we have been
servation of the faith, prevented the evils | informed by the Inquisitors, and many other
wherewith religion was threatened by the Moors [ religious persons, lay and ecclesiastical, it is

and the Jews, and preserved Spain from Pro
testantism, without employing that excessive
rigor, which drew upon it the severe and de
served reprimands and admonitions of the
Sovereign Pontiffs, provoked the complaints

certain that great injury to the Christians had
been and is the result of the participation, in
tercourse, and communication which they have
had, and still have, with the Jews ; it has been
proved that the latter, by all the means in their

of the people, made so many accused and con
demned persons appeal to Rome, and furnished
the adversaries of Catholicity with a pretext

for charging thtit religion with being sangui- .__, r

nary which has a horror of the effusion of j noxious creed and opinions ; instructing them
blood. I repeat, that the Catholic religion i? i in the ceremonies and observances of their own
not responsible for any of the excesses which ! law ; holding meetings to teach them what

power, constantly labor to subvert the faith
of Christians, to withdraw them from our holj
Catholic faith, to lead them away from it, to
attract thorn, and to pervert them to their own

have been committed in her name ; and when
men speak of the Inquisition, they ought not
to fix their eyes principally on thiit of Spai
but

they ought to believe and observe according to
that law ; taking care to circumcise them and
their children, giving them books in order to

n that of Rome. There, where the Sove- i recite their prayers, teaching them the fasti
Pontiff resides, und where th ty best uu- i which they ought to observe, assembling to

NOTES.

453

read irith them, teaching them the histories of We are not now examining whothet or not
their laws ; notifying to them the Paschal | there is any exaggeration in these imputations
times before they arrive, admonishing them as i against the Jews, although, according to all
to what they ought to do and observe daring appearances, there onst have been a great
those times ; giving them, bringing for them, i deal of foundation for them, in consequence of
from their own homes, the bread of azimes, the situation in which the two rival nations
meats killed according to their ceremonies; were placed. Observe, besides, that if the
instructing them as to the things from which preamble of the Pragmatic Sanction is silent
they ought to abstain, in order to obey the law, j with respect to a hundred accusations brought
as well in eating as in other things; persuad- j against the Jews by the generality of the
ing them, as far as they can, to adopt and keep . people, the report of these crimes had not the

'

the Law of Moses, and making them under
stand that no other law than that is true. All
these things are certain from numerous testi
monies, from the acknowledgments of the Jews
themselves, and of those who have been per
verted and deceived by them, which has inflict
ed great injury, detriment, ar.d dishonor on
our holy Catholic faith. Although we were
already informed of these things from many

qu

arters, and although we were aware that the
real remedy for all these evils and inconveni
ences was to place an insurmountable barrier
to the communication of the Jews with the
Christians, and to banish the Jews from our
kingdoms, we wished to be satisfied with en
joining them to quit all the cities, towns, and
places of Andalusia, where it seemed that
they had done the most mischief, believing
that that would be enough to hinder those of
the other cities, towns, and places of our king
doms and lordships from doing and committing
what has been mentioned. But being inform
ed that this measure, as well as the acts of
iustice exercised on some of the Jews who
were found guilty of these offences and crimes
against our holy Catholic faith, do not suffice
to remedy the evil thoroughly ; for the purpose
of obviating and abolishing so great an oppro
brium, such an offence against the faith and
the Christian religion, since it appears that the
same Jews, with a fatal ardor, redouble their
perverse attempts wherever they live and asso
ciate ; wishing to suppress the occasion of of
fending more against our holy Catholic faith,
as well on account of those persons whom it
has pleased God up to this time to preserve, as
of those who, after having fallen, have repent-
ad and returned to our holy mother the Church ;
wishing to prevent the offences which, on ac
count of the weakness of our human nature,
%nd the suggestions of the devil, which conti-
^ually make war on us, might easily occur, if
the principal cause of the evil were not remov
ed by the expulsion of the Jews from our
kingdoms ; considering, besides, that when a
great and detestable crime has been committed
by some members of a college or university, it
is reasonable that that oollege or that univer
sity should be dissolved and destroyed, that
some may be punished on account of the
others, and the lesser number on account of
the greater ; that those who pervert the good
and virtuous mode of life of cities and towns,
by a contagion which may injure others, may
be banished from those towns ; and that if it
be allowed to act thus for other slight causes
prejudicial to the state, there is still more rea
son to allow it for the greatest, the most dan
gerous, the most contagious of crimes, that
which is in question : for all these reasons we,
having consulted our Council, and taken the
»dvj;e of si.uae prelates," <fcc.

less weight with the public ; consequently, the
situation of the Jews was aggravated in an ex
traordinary degree, and the princes were so
much the more inclined to treat them with se
verity.

With respect to the mistrust with which the
Moors and their descendants must have been
regarded, besides the facts pointed out above,
others might be related which show the dispo
sition of men's minds to see in the presence of
these men a permanent conspiracy against the
Christians. Almost a century had elapsed since
the conquest of Granada, and it was still feared
that this kingdom might be the centre of plots
contrived by the Moors against the Christians,
the source of perfidious projects, and the place
whence came the means of maltreating in alj
wa.ys the defenceless persons upon our coasts.
Thus spoke Philip II. in 1567 :
" Book viii. chap. 2, of the new Recopilacion.
" Law xx., which decrees severe punish
ments against the inhabitants of the kingdom
of Granada who shall have hidden, received,
or favored the Turks, Moors, or Jews, or given
them intelligence, or corresponded with them.
"D. Philip II., Madrid, 10 December, 1567.
" Having been informed that, notwithstand
ing what has been ordained by us, as well by
sea as by land, particularly for the kingdom
of Granada, for the purpose of insuring the
defence and security of our kingdoms, the
Turks, Moors, and corsairs have already com
mitted, and still commit, in the ports of this
kingdom, on the coasts, in maritime places,
and those bordering on the sea, robberies, mis
deeds, injuries, and seizures of Christians;
evils which are notorious, and which, it is .said,
have been, and are. committed with ease and
security, by favor of the intercourse and un
derstanding which the ravishers have had, and
still have, with some of the inhabitants of the
country, who give them intelligence, guide
them, receive them, hide them, and lend them
favor and assistance ; some of them even going
away with the Moors and Turks, leading away
and carrying with them their wives, their chil
dren, their goods, Christian captives, and the
things which they were able to ravish from the
Christians ; while other inhabitants of the
same kingdom, who have participated in these
projects, or have been acquainted with them,
remain in the country, without having been or
being punished ; for it appears that measures
are not executed with due severity, nor as com
pletely, or with as much care as they ought to
be : us, moreover, it seems very diflicult to get
accurate information, as it appears taat even
the justices and the judges, to whom it Hlongi
to make inquiries and to punish, have displayed
remissness and negligence in their employ
ment ; — this having been agitated and discuss
ed in our Council, with the view „(' providing

454

NOTES.

%s is proper in a thing of such great import
ance, for the service of God our Master, for
our own and the public good ; the thing hav
ing been consulted upon by us. it has been
agreed that we ought to publish this present
letter," &c.

Years passed away ; the hatred between the
two nations still endured ; in spite of the n'u-
merous checks which the Mahometan race had
received, the Christians were not satisfied. It
Was very probable that a nation who had suf
fered, and might still suffer, such great humi
liations, would attempt to avenge them. It is
also by no means difficult to believe in the rea
lity of the conspiracies which were charged
against the Moors. However this may be, the
report of these conspiracies was general, and
the government was seriously alarmed by them.
Those who desire a proof of this, may read
what Philip III. said, in 1609, in the law which
expelled the Moriscoes.

'' Book viii. ehap. 2, of the new Recopila-
cion.

" Law xxv. By virtue of which the Moris
coes were banished from the kingdom : causes
of this expulsion — means which were adopted
for the execution of the measure.

"V. Philip III., Madrid, 9 December, 1609.

"For a long time it has been endeavored to
save the Moriscoes in these kingdoms: the
holy office of the Inquisition has inflicted
divers punishments ; numerous edicts of mercy
have been granted ; neither means nor dili
gence have been spared to instruct them in
our holy faith, without being able to obtain the
desired result, for none of them have been
converted. On the contrary, their obstinacy
has increased ; the peril which threatens our
kingdoms, if we keep the Moriscoes, has been
represented to us by persons very well informed
and full of the fear of God, who, thinking it
proper that a prompt remedy should be applied
to this evil, have represented to us that the
delay might be charged upon our royal con
science, considering the grave offences which
our Lord receives from that people. We have
been assured that we might, without scruple,
punish them in their lives and properties, since
they were convicted by their continued offences
of being heretics, apostates, and traitors of
Itne-mnjeste divine and human. Although it
would have been allowable to proceed against
them with the rigor which their offences de
serve, nevertheless, desiring to bring them
back by means of mildness and mercy, I or
dained, in the city and kingdom of Valencia,
an assembly of the patriarchs, and other pre
lates and wise men, in order to ascertain what
could be resolved upon and settled ; but having
learned that, at the very time they were en
gaged in remedying the evil, the Moriscoes of
the said kingdom of Valencia, and of our other
domains, continued to urge forward their per-
nicicus projects ; knowing, moreover, from cor
rect and certain intelligence, that they had
nent to treat at Constantinople with the Turks,
und at Morocco with the king, Muley Fidon,
in order that there might be sent into the
kingdom of Spain the greatest number of
forces possible to aid and assist them; being
Bure that there would be found in our kingdom
wore than 150,000 men, as good Moors as those
Ir »a ttu coasts of Barbary, all ready to assist

them with their lives and fortunes, whereby
they were persuaded of the facility of the en
terprise; knowing that the same treaties hare
been attempted with heretics and other princes
our enemies : considering all that we have just
said, and to fulfill the obligation which we are
under of preserving and maintaining the holy
Roman Catholic faith in our kingdoms, as well
as the security, peace, and repose of the said
kingdoms, with the counsel and advice of
learned men, and others, very zealous for the
service of God and for our own, we ordain
that all the Moriscoes, inhabitants of these
kingdoms, men, women, and children, of tui
conditions," &c.

I have said that the Popes labored, from the
commencement, to soften the rigors of the
Spanish Inquisition, sometimes by admonish
ing the kings and inquisitors, sometimes by
giving the accused and condemned a right of
appeal. The kings feared that the religioue
innovations would produce a public distur
bance ; I add, that their policy embarrassed
I the Popes, and prevented them from carrying
as far as they would have wished their measures
of mildness and indulgence. Among the other
documents which support this assertion, I will
cite one which proves the irritation of the
Spanish kings at the assistance which the ac
cused found at Rome.

" Book viii. chap. '6, law 2, of the new Re~
copilacion, enjoining persons condemned by
the Inquisition, and absent from these king
doms, not to return there under pain of death
and losing their goods.

" D. Ferdinand and D. Isabella, at Sara-
gossa, 2d August, 1498. Pragmatic Sanction.

" Some persons condemned as heretics by the
Inquisition have absented themselves from our
kingdoms, and have gone to other countries,
where, by means of false reports and undue
formalities, they have surreptitiously obtained
exemptions, absolutions, mandates, securities,
and other privileges, in order to be exempt
from the condemnations and punishments
which they had incurred, and to remain in
their errors, which, nevertheless, does not pre
vent their attempting to return to these king
doms, wherefore, wishing to extirpate so great
an evil, we command these condemned persona
not to be so bold as to return. Let them not
return into our kingdoms and lordships, by any
way, in any manner, for any cause or reason
whatsoever, under pain of death and the loss
of their goods ; which punishment we will and
ordain to be incurred by the act itself. One-
third of the property shall be for the persons
who shall have denounced, another for the
courts, and the third for our exchequer. When
ever the said justices, in their own places and
jurisdiction, shall know that any of the said
persons are in any part of their jurisdiction,
we order all and each of them, without excep
tion, to go to the place where such persons arc,
without being otherwise railed upon, to appre
hend them forcibly and immediately, and with
out delay to execute, and cause to be executed,
on them and their properties the punishments
which we have appointed; and this notwith
standing all exemption, reconciliation, securi
ties, and other privileges which they may have,
these privileges, in the present case, and with
respect to the said penalties, not availing them

NOTE8.

455

Wt orJer then to do and accpmpiish this un
der pain of the loss and confiscation of all
their property. The same penalty shall be in
curred by all other persons who shall have
hidden or received the said condemned persons,
and who knowing that they were so, shall not
Lave given information to our courts. We
order all great men and councillors, and other
persons of our kingdoms, to give favor and
assistance to our courts, whenever it shall be
demanded and required from them, to accom
plish and execute what has been said above,
under the penalties which the courts them
selves shall appoint on this subject."

We see from this document, that, after the
year 1498, things had reached such a point,
that the kings attempted to maintain against
every one all the rigor of the Inquisition, and
that they were offended that the Popes inter
fered to soften it. It will be understood there
by whence proceeded the harshness with which
ttie guilty were treated; and this shows us one
of the causes which made the Inquisition
•sometimes use its power with excessive sever
ity. Although it was not a mere instrument
of the policy of kings, as some have said, the
Inquisition felt more or less the influence of
«;hat policy; and we know that policy, when
about to defeat an adversary, does not com
monly display an excess of compassion. If
Jie Spanish Inquisition had been at that time
under the exclusive authority and direction of
the Popes, it would have been infinitely milder
and more moderate in its method of acting.

At that time the object ardently desired by
the kings of Spain was, to obtain that the
judgments of the Inquisition should be defini
tive in Spain, without appeal to Rome ; Queen
Isabella had expressly demanded this of the
Pope. The Sovereign Pontiffs would not ac
cede to these solicitations, no doubt fearing the
abuse which might be made of so fearful an
arm when the restraint of the moderating
power should become wantirg.

It will be understood from the facts which I
have just quoted, how much reason I had to
say that, if you excuse the conduct of Ferdi
nand and Isabella with respect to the Inquisi
tion, you must not condemn that of Philip II.,
since the Catholic sovereigns showed them
selves still more harsh and severe than the
latter monarch. I have already pointed out
the reason why the conduct of Philip II. has
been so rigorously condemned ; but it is also
necessary to show why there has been a sort
•>i obstinacy in excusing that of Ferdinand
fad Isa'bella.

When it is wished to falsify an historical
fact by calumniating a pe»son or an institution,
it is necessary to begin with an affectation of
impartiality and good faith ; great success is
cbtained in this by manifesting indulgence for
the same thing which it is desired to condemn,
but taking care that this indulgence has strong
ly the appearance of being a concession gratu
itously made to our adversaries, or of a sacri
fice of our opinions, of our feelings, on the
altars of reason and justice, which are our
guide and our idol. We thus predispose our
hearers or readers to regard the condemnation
which we are about to pronounce as a judg
ment dictated by the strictest justice ; a judg
ment in -vhich neither passion, nor partiality,

nor perverse views, have any part. How can
we doubt the good faith, the love of truth, th«
impartiality of the man who begins by excus
ing what, according to all appearances, and
considering his opinions, ought to be the object
of his anathemas ? Such is the situation of
the men of whom we speak. They intended
to attack the Inquisition ; now it happened that
the protectress, and, in some sort, the found
ress of that tribunal was Queen Isabella, — tbat
distinguished name which Spaniards have
always pronounced with respect, that immor-
bal queen, one of the noblest ornaments of our
bistory. What was to be done in this difficul
ty? The means were simple. Although the
Jews and heretics had been treated with the
greatest severity in the time of the Catholic
sovereigns, and although they had carried
severity further than all those who have suc
ceeded them, it was necessary to close the eye
to these facts, to excuse the conduct of these
sovereigns, and to point out the important mat
ters which urged them to employ the rigors
of justice. They thus avoided the difficulty,
— for it was one to cast a stigma on the memo
ry of a great queen cherished and respected
by all Spaniards, — and they thus prepared the
way for merciless accusations against Philip
II. That monarch had the unanimous cry of
all Protestants against him, for the simple
reason that he had been their most powerful
adversary; it would therefore cost nothing to
make all the weight of execration fall upon
him. The enigma is thus explained. Such ia
the cause of a partiality so unjust, — such ia
the hypocrisy of that opinion which, while ex
cusing the Catholic sovereigns, condemns Phi
lip II. without appeal.

I have not attempted to justify the policy
of this monarch in all respects; but I have
presented a few considerations which may
serve to mitigate the violent attacks made
upon him by his adversaries : it only remains
for me to transcribe here the documents to
which I alluded when I said that the Inquisi-
tion was not a mere instrument of the policy
of Philip II., and that this prince did not in
tend to establish a system of obscurantism* in
Spain.

Don Antonio Perez, in his Relations, gives a
letter of the confessor of the king, Fray Diego
de Chaves, in which letter the latter affirms
that the secular prince has power over the lives
of his subjects and vassals, and adds in a note :
" I shall not undertake to relate all that I have
heard said on the subject of the condemnation
of some of these propositions ; this is not within
my province. Those who are concerned in thip
will at once understand the import of my words,
I shall content myself with saying that, at the
time Avhen I was at Madrid, the Inquisition con
demned the following proposition : a preachel
— it matters not that I should mention hit
name — maintained in a sermon, at St. Jerome's,
in Madrid, in presence of the Catholic king,
that kiny* have an absolute power over the per
sons of their subjectn, as well as over their pro
perties. Besides some other separate matters,
the preacher was condemned to retract thi«
publicly, in the same place, wi.h all the cere
monies' of a juridical act, which he diitin th«
same pulpit, saying that he had advan jed such
a proposition on such a day, ant* bs.t he r»»

456

NOTES.

traoted It M erroneous ' For, messieurs,' said
he, reading literally from a paper, ' kings have
no other power over their subjects than what is
given them by the divine and human law ; they
have none proceeding from their own free and
absolute will.' I even know who condemned
the proposition, and appointed the words which
the accused, to the great gratification of the
former, was obliged to pronounce ; indeed, he
rejoiced to see torn up so poisonous a weed,
which he felt was increasing, as the event
proved. Master Fray Hernando del Castillo
(I will mention his name) was the one who
prescribed what the accused was to say; he
was consultee of the holy office, and preacher
to the king ; he was a man of singular learning
and eloquence, very well known and esteemed
by his own nation, and especially by the Ita
lians. Dr. Velasco, an important personage of
that time, said of him, that the guitar in the
hands of Pabricio Dentici was not so sweet as
the tongue of Master Fray Hernandez del Cas
tillo to the ears of those who heard him." And
at page 47 in the text: "I know," says Don
Antonio Perez, "that they were denominated
very scandalous by persons very important by
their rank, their learning, and their Christian
purity of heart; there was one among them
who had held supreme rank in the spiritual
order in Spain, and had previously tilled an
office in the tribunal of the Inquisition." Perez
afterwards says, that this person was the nun
cio of his Holiness. (Relaeionet de Anton. Perez.
Paris, 1624.)

The letter of Philip II. to Doctor D. Benito
Arias Montano contains the following, in ad
dition to the remarkable passage which we have
quoted.

" Concerning what you. Dr. Ac., my chaplain,
will have to do at Antwerp, whither we send
you. Dated at Madrid, 25th March, 1568.

" Besides that you will render this good office
and service to the said Plantinus, know that,
from this time, in proportion as the six thousand
crowns are recovered from his hands, I apply
them to buy books for the monastery of St.
Laureiit-le-Royal, of the order of St. Jerome,
which I am building near the Escurial, as you
-now. Thus you are admonished that such is
uy intention ; you will comply with this, and
will be diligent in collecting all the choice
books, printed and MS., that your excellent
discernment shall think proper, in order to bring
them and place them in the library of the said
monastery. Indeed, it is one of the chief pos
sessions which I would wish to leave to the
religious who are intended to dwell there, for
it is the most useful and necessary. Wherefore
I have also commanded my ambassador in
France, D. Francis de Alaba, to collect the best
books which he shall be able in that kingdom:
you will communicate with him on that subject.
I will direct him to communicate in writing
also with you, to send you a list of the books
which are to be had, as well as their price, be-
foro buying them ; you will advise him as to
which he had better take or leave, and what
he may give for such. He will send to you at
Antwerp those which he has thus bought ; you
wiM acknowledge them, and forward them here,
all at *>nce, at the proper time."

During the reign of Philip II., — of that
princ who is r .presented to us as one of the

! principal authors of obscurantitme,— oboio4
works, both printed and MS., were sought in
foreign countries, in order to enrich the Span
ish libraries ; in our age, which we call thai
of enlightenment, tb"? libraries of Spain have
been plundered, and their treasures have gone
to add to those of foreigners. Who is ignorant
of the collections which have been made ol
our books and MS., in England? Consult the
catalogues of the British Museum and other
private libraries. The author of these linet
states only what he has seen with his own eye*
— what he has heard lamented by persona
worthy of respect. While we show so much
negligence in preserving our treasures, let ua
not be so unjust and so puerile as to lose our
time in vain declamation against those who
have bequeathed them to us.

APPENDIX.

A few words on Puiyblanch, Villeneuve, and
Llorente.

Here, in the Spanish edition, the notes re
lating to the Inquisition terminate; but I think
it may not be useless in the French edition to
add a few words, to explain the matter to my
foreign readers : little versed as they are in
the knowledge of our affairs, they might often
happen to drink at corrupted sources, which
they imagine to be pure and salutary. Le
Compte de Maistre, with respect to the Span
ish Inquisition, cites L' Inquisition devoilee de
Natanael Jointoh : I will say a few words, lest
the authority of the author who quotes should
give too much importance to him who is quoted.
This Natanael Jomtob is no other than Dr. D.
Antonio Puigblanch, a Spaniard, who died not
long ago in London. This author, in the pro
logue to his works published in London, himself
explains the reason which made him adopt a
strange name. " These Hebrew words," he says,
"are two proper significative names, which,
together, form the inscription, Dedit Deus diem
bonum. I wished thus to express the happiness
of being able to speak and write freely against
the tribunal of the Inquisition, and the happi
ness of seeing it abolished." (Prolog, p. cxv.)

In order that the reader may judge of the
value that belongs to this work, I will observe,
that the first qualification in an historian, es
pecially on a matter so delicate, is complete
impartiality united to a great fund of modera
tion : these two qualifications were wanting h
M. Puigblanch, who was lamentably infected
with the contrary faults. It is impossible to
be more violent than he is against all that he
meets with ; his ill-humor and anger blind
him ; he attacks institutions and men with per
fect fury; he respects nothing: add to this a
pitiable vanity. It would be easy for me to
produce here various proofs of the impiety of
Puigblanch ; but I should fear to soil .my pa
per by transcribing the impious satires of thia
man. This is enough to give an idea of the
point of view in which he could regard thing!
relating to religious affairs and to the clergy
He misses no opportunity of ridiculing tht.
ministers of religion, of indulging in invectives
against them, and of giving vent to ti: c in
comprehensible rage which he has against
them. The unbecom ng manner in which he
treats h\s adversaries, real or imaginary, even

NOTES.

when they have more or less sympathy with
his opinions, is a good apology for the things
which he combats on che other hand. I cannot
repeat his words here, so coarse are they ; be
sides, they attack persons who are still living;
suffice it to say, that not content with insulting
them in the most disgusting way, Puigblanch
descends so low as to reproach them with their
physical defects, after the manner of a market-
woman. What was to be hoped from such a
mind in a matter so important and delicate ?
Were such dispositions suitable for an historian
of the Inquisition, who published his work
precisely in the year 1811, that is to say, at a
time of reaction and effervescence ? With re
spect to talent and knowledge, I will not refuse
to M. Puigblanch either reading or erudition,
or a certain aptitude for criticism, yet it must
not be forgotten that his mind was far from
being so cultivated as it ought to have been,
in order to keep pace with our age. A work
like his required that he should have followed
the march of the times, that he should not have
been altogether devoid of the philosophy of
history, tJiat he should not have relied exclu
sively upon certain books, while accumulating
crude erudition, and incessantly perusing ety-
mologieb and grammatical questions : this is
what was wanting in M. Puigblanch. To sum
up all in one sentence, I have found the fol
lowing description, which I heard in London,
from the mouth of a distinguished man who
had intercourse with Puigblanch for a long
time, to be perfectly correct: "Puigblanch,"
he told me, " knew what a learned man of the
seventeenth century in Spain might have
known." The Christian reader may imagine
what was the result of the amalgamation of
this kind of instruction with all the bile of
Voltairian passion.

D. Joaquin Lorenzo Villanueva is another of
those Spaniards who have distinguished them
selves by declaiming against the Inquisition ;
in his Literary Life (Vida Literarici) he had
asserted that the public information on this
question, and the abolition of that famous tri- j
bunal, were in great part owing to him. Puig- j
blanch strongly recriminates against Villanu- i
eva, who attempted to usurp his glory by '
availing himself of his work without acknow
ledging it, and other similar things, which do
as little honor to the one as to the other. Vil
lanueva has been already judged in Spain by
all sensible men ; foreigners who desire to un
derstand this question will be under the un
pleasant obligation of reading the two large
volumes in 8vo, in which he has written his
literary life. The bile of Villanueva against
all the clergy who are not of his coterie, and,
above all, his hatred against Rome, show them
selves at every page of his book, and from
time to time produce explosions which are
much too violent to accord with the extreme
mildness which he is pleased to affect More
over, let the reader prepare and arm himself
with patience, if he undertake to get through
these two large volumes, which contain, writ
ten by the man himself, who so well deserved
it, the most complete panegyric of his pro
found knowledge, his vast erudition, his great
humility, and his virtues of all kinds. It cer
tainly would have been very well, if the
author, with a slight recollection of modesty,

had not candidly told us, that they went BO far
as to call him the father of the poor, that hi»
poetic fire was not cooled by age, that hii
activity in labor did not allow him to remain
idle, even in the midst of the greatest perse
cutions ; in fine, if he had not undertaken to
make us believe that all his life was a con
tinual sacrifice on the altars of knowledge and
virtue. To those who desire to derive their
information from Villanueva, we have a right
to say : Do not forget that you must beware
of believing all — that the tree is known by its
fruits — that the wolf often assumes sheep'*
clothing.

Among those who have made the most noise
with respect to the Inquisition, is Llorente, the
author of a history of that famous institution.
The impartiality which may be expected from
this writer shows itself every moment in his
book, which has evidently been written for the
purpose of blackening, as much as possible,
the Catholic clergy and the Holy See. Hap
pily the author has made himself too well
known by his other works, for any Catholic to
allow himself to be deceived by his insidious
writings. No one, especially in Spain, is igno
rant of the project of the religious constitution
with which Llorente attempted to disturb con
sciences, and introduce schism and heresy into
our country. Does he who attempts to destroy
the universal discipline established from the
earliest ages, who expresses doubts on the most
sacred mysteries of our holy religion, who con
tests the infallible authority of the Church,
and does not hold the first four (Ecumenical
Councils to be legitimate, deserve the least
credit when writing the history of the Inqui
sition, — that history which affords so many op
portunities of declaiming against the clergy
and against Rome ? Here is a proof of his
impartiality. In his history of the Inquisi
tion, he could not avoid relating the conduct
of the Apostolic See in the early times of the
Inquisition in 'Spain, and the efforts made by
the Holy See for the purpose of softening the
rigors of that tribunal, the appeals which werf>
made, and the merciful judgments which were
almost always obtained at Rome ; all these facts
clearly showed that Rome, far from being, as
he pretended, a monster of cruelty, was rather
a model of mildness and prudence. How do
you think he gets out of this difficulty ? By
saying, that what the Court of Rome wanted
was, to extort money from us. An explanation
as unworthy as it is impudent — an odious means
of depriving the most beneficent and generous
actions of their lustre, and which shows a fixed
design to find evil every where, even to the ex
tent of assigning evil motives for benefits which
are the most worthy of gratitude.

With respect to Llorente, I am unwilling to
pass over in silence a remarkable fact which
he has had the kindness to communicate to the
public in the same work. King Joseph, the
intruder, intrusted Llorente, by express orders,
with the archives of the Supreme Council and
the Tribunal of the Inquisition of the capital
This excellent man was so perfect an archivist,
that he burnt all the reports of proceed!
with the approbation of his master (as
self tells us), with the exception o
which could appertain to history, by
brity or the renown of the persons wl

458

NOTES.

fa them, such u these of Caranza, of Maca-
naz, and a few others ; although he preserved
entire, he adds, the registers of the decisions
of the Council, the royal ordinances, and the
bulls and briefs from Rome. (Edition Fran-
qaise, 1818, t. 4, p. 145.) After having heard
this remarkable confession, we will ask every
impartial man, whether there is not room for
greatly mistrusting an historian who claims to
be sole and unique, because he has had the op
portunity of consulting the original documents
whereon he founds his history, and who, never
theless, burns and destroys these same docu
ments ? Was there no place to be found in
Madrid to place them, where they could be ex
amined by those who, after Llorente, might
wish to write the history of the Inquisition
from the original documents ? Llorente has
preserved, he tells us, those which belonged to
history ; but the history of the Inquisition had
equally need of others, even the most obscure
— even the most apparently insignificant ; for
ii not seldom happens that a fact, a circum
stance, a word, shows us an institution, and
paints for us an age. And observe, that this
destruction took place at a critical moment of
public disturbance, when the whole nation, de
voted to an immortal struggle in defence of her
independence, could not fix her attention on
such matters. The most remarkable men,
scattered on all sides, then led their fellow-ci
tizens in arms, or were engaged in the most
important interests of the country; conse
quently they could not watch over the conduct
of an archivist, who, after having left his bre
thren, whose blood was flowing upon the battle
field, accepted employment under a foreign in
truder, and burned the documents of an insti
tution whereof he undertook to write the
history.

NOTE 27, p. 281.

The plan of my work required that questions
relating to the religious communities should be
examined at some length but it did not allow
me to give to this matter all the development
of which it is susceptible. Indeed, it would
be possible, in my opinion, in writing the
history of religious communities, to give side
by side that of the nations among whom these
communities arose, so as to show in detail a
truth we have now proved, viz. that the esta
blishment of religious institutions, besides the
superior and divine object which they have
had in view, has been at all times the fulfil
ment of a social and religious necessity. Al
though my strength does not enable me to as
pire to such ar enterprise, by which the cou
rage may well be daunted, even by contem
plating the immense extent of such a work, I
wish to suggest the idea of it here ; perhaps a
man may be found with suflicient capacity,
learning, and leisure, to undertake it, and en
rich our age with this new monument of history
and fhilosophy. By conceiving the plan in
this point of view, and making it subordinate
io this unity of object, whereof the foundation,
which shows itself in well-known facts, is dis
covered in obscure and conjectured in hidden
ones, there would be no difficulty in giving all
iesirable variety to this work. The subject
Itself leads to variety ; for it invites the writer

to defend to extremely interesting partieu
lars, which will be like the episodes of a grand
and unique poem. The disposition of men's
minds, now become favorable to religious in
stitutions, thanks to the deceptions which are
the consequence of vain theories, and to the
lessons of experience, which destroy the calum
nies invented by philosophy, render the read
every day more easy. The path is already
sufficiently beaten ; it is only required to en
large and extend it, in order to conduct a
greater number of men towards the region of
truth.

Having pointed out this, it only remains for
me to state here, in conclusion, divers facts
which could not be given in the text, and which
I have preferred to collect in a note. As these
facts belonged to the same subject, it appeared
to me proper to collect them apart, while leav
ing the reader to pay full attention to the ob
servations which form the body of my work.

There were known among the pagans, under
the name of ascetics, persons who devoted
themselves to abstinence and the practice of
the austere virtues ; so that, even before Chris
tianity, there already existed the idea of those
virtues which have been since exercised in
Christianity. The lives of the philosophers
are full of examples which prove the truth of
my assertion. Yet it will be understood that,
deprived of the light of faith and the aid of
grace, the pagan philosophers afforded but a
very faint shadow of what was afterwards rea
lized in the lives of the Christian ascetics. We
have stated that the monastic life is founded
on the Gospel, inasmuch as the Gospel contains
asceticism. From the foundation of the Church
we see the monastic life established under one
form or another. Origen tells us of certain
men, who, in order to reduce their bodies into
subjection, abstained from eating meat and
from all that had life. (Origen. Contr. Celsum,
lib. v.) Tertullian makes mention of some
Christians who abstained from marriage, not
because they condemned it, but in order to
gain the kingdom of heaven. (Tertul. De
Cult. Femin. lib. ii.)

It is remarkable, that the weaker sex parti
cipated in a singular manner in that strength
of mind which Christianity communicated for
the exercise of the heroic virtues. In the
early ages of the Church there were already
reckoned, in great numbers, virgins and wid
ows consecrated to the Lord, bound by a vow
of perpetual chastity ; and we see that special
care was taken in the ancient Councils of the
Church of that chosen portion of her flock. It
is one of the objects of the solicitude of the
Fathers to regulate discipline on this point in
a proper manner. The virgins made their pub
lic profession in the church; they received
the veil from the hands of the bishop, and, for
greater solemnity, they were distinguished by
a kind of consecration. This ceremony re
quired a certain age in the person who was
consecrated to God ; we also observe that dis
cipline has been very different on this point.
In the East they received persons seventee»
years old, and even sixteen, as we learn from
St. Basil (Epiat. can. 18) ; in Africa at twenty-
five, as we see from the fourth canon of the
third Council of Carthage ; in France at forty,
as appears from the nineteenth canon of the

NOTES.

459

Coanoil of Agde. E ren when the virgins and
iridows dwelt in the houses of their fathers,
they did not cease to be reckoned among ec
clesiastical persons ; they received the support
of the Church by this title, in cases of neces-
diy. If they violated their vow of chastity,
they were excommunicated, and could not re
turn to the communion of the faithful, except
hv submitting to public penance. (For these
details, see the thirty-third canon of the third
Council of Carthage, the nineteenth canon of
the Council of Ancyra, and the sixteenth
oanon of that of Chalcedon.)

In the first three centuries, the state of the
Church, subject to an almost continual perse
cution, must naturally have hindered persons
who loved the ascetic life, men or women, from
assembling in the towns to observe it in com
mon. Some think that the propagation of the
ascetic life in the desert is in great part due to
the persecution of Decius, which was very
cruel in Egypt, and made a great number of
Christians retire into the deserts of the The-
bais, or other solitudes in the neighbourhood.
Thus commenced the establishment of that
method of life which, in the end, was to gain
so prodigious an extension. St. Paul, if we are
to believe St. Jerome, was the founder of the
solitary life.

It appears that some abuses were introduced
into the monastic life from the earliest ages, as
we see certain monks detested at Rome in the
time of Jerome. Quousque genus deteatabile
monamrum urbe non pellitur, says the saint by
the 111 uth of the Romans in a letter to Paula ;
but the reputation of the monks, which had
perhaps been compromised by the Sarabaites
and the Gyrovagues, a kind of vagabonds
whose last care was the practice of the virtues
jf their state, and who indulged in gluttony
and other pleasures with shameful licentious
ness, was soon restored. St. Athanasius, St.
Jerome himself, St. Martin, and other ce
lebrated men, among whom St. Bennet distin
guished himself in a particular manner, renewed
the splendor of the monastic life by the most
eloquent apology, that which consisted in giv
ing, as they did, the most sublime example
of the most austere virtues.

It is remarkable that, in spite of the multi
plication of monks in the east and west, they
were not divided into different orders, so that,
during the first six centuries, all, as Mabillon
observes, were considered as forming one insti
tute. There was something noble in this unity,
which, as it were, formed all the monasteries
into one family; but it must be acknowledged
that the diversity of orders afterwards intro
duced was essentially calculated to attain the
various and numerous objects which succes
sively attracted the attention of religious insti
tutions.

The discipline, by virtue whereof no new
order could be instituted without the previous
approbation of the sovereign Pontiff, it may be
said, was very necessary, considering the ar
dor which afterwards urged many persons to
establish new institutions ; so that, without this
prudent check, disorder would have been in
troduced in consequence of the exaggerated
transports winch urged some imaginations to
*iceed all bounds.

Somi people take delight in relating the ox-

cesses into which some individur/le of the men-
dicant orders fell ; and they borrow the narra
tives of Matthew Paris, without forgetting th«
lamentations of St. Bonaventura himself. I
wish not to excuse evil, wherever it is found ;
but I will observe, that the circumstances of
the times when the mendicant orders were
established, and the kind of life they were ob
liged to embrace, in order to fulfill the purpose
for which they were intended, as I have point
ed out in the text, rendered almost inevitable
those evils which pious men sincerely deplored,
and which the enemies of the Church lament
with no less affectation than exaggeration.

NOTE 28, p. 305.

I have already shown, by numerous testimo
nies of scholastic theologians, how the divine
origin of the civil power is to be understood ;
and it is evident that it contains nothing but
what is perfectly conformable to sound reason,
and adapted, at the same time, to the high
aims of society. It would have been easy for
me to accumulate testimonies ; but I think I
have adduced a sufficient number to throw light
on the subject, and to satisfy every reader who,
free from unjust prejudices, is sincerely desirous
of listening to truth. In order, however, to
view this subject under every aspect, I will add
a few explanations on that celebrated passage
of St. Paul to the Romans, chap, xiii., in which
the Apostle speaks of the origin of powers, and
of the submission and obedience due to them.
Let it not be thought, however, that I purpose
attaining this end by any reasoning more or
less specious. Whenever a passage of Scrip
ture is to be expounded in its true sense, we
should not rely principally upon what our
wavering reason suggests to us, but rather
upon the interpretation of the Catholic Church ;
for this reason we should consult those writers
whose high authority, founded on their wisdom
and their virtue, leads us to hope that they
have not deviated from the maxim, Quod sem
per, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus traditum eat.

We have already seen a remarkable passage
of St. John Chrysostom, explaining this point
with as much clearness as solidity; we have
also learned, from the testimony of the Fathers,
what motives induced the Apostles to inculcate
so pressingly the obligation of obedience to the
lawful authorities. It only remains for us to
insert here the commentaries of some illustrious
writers on the text of the Apostle. In them
we shall find, as it were, a code of doctrine ;
and when we come to appreciate the reasons
on which the precepts inculcated in the sacred
text are founded, we shall more easily discover
their true meaning.

Observe, in the first place, with what wisdom,
prudence, and piety this important subject is
expounded by a writer who was not of the
golden era, but, on the contrary, who lived in
what is generally termed the barbarous age —
St. Anselm. In his commentaries on the 13th
chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, this doc
tor thus expresses himself:

" Omnis anima potestatibus sublimioribua aub-
dita sit. Non eat enim potestua nisi a Deo.
Quce autem sunt, a Deo ordinatce aunt. Jtaqut
qui resiatit potesta'A, Dei ordinationi renintit.
Qui autem renistunt, ipsi aibi damnationtm 10.
, quirunt.

460

NOTES.

w Sicut snperins reprehendit illos, qui gloria-
bantur do meritis, ita nuno ingreditur illos red-
arguere, qui postquam erant ad fidern conversi
nolebant subjici alicui potestati. Videbatur
enim quod infideles, Dei fidelibus non deberent
dominari, etsi fideles deberent esso pares.
Quatn superbiam removet, dicens : Oainis ani-
ma, id est, omnis homo, sit huiniliter subdita
potestatibus vel secularibus, vel ecclesiasticis,
sublirnioribus se : hoc est, omnis homo sitsub-
jeotus superpositis sibi potestatibus. A parte
enim majore kignificat totura hominem, sicut
rursum a parts inferiore totus homo significa-
tur ubi Propheta dicit : Quia videbit omnis euro
*alut<ire Dei. Et recto admonet, ue quis ex eo
quod in libertatem vocatus est, factusquo Chris-
tianus, extollatur in superbiam, et non arbi-
tretur in hujus vitae itinere servanduin esse or-
dinem suurn, etpotestatibus, quibus pro tetnpore
rerum temporalium gubernatio tradita est, non
se putet esse subdendum. Cum enim conste-
mus ex anima et «orpore, et quaindiu in hac
vita temporal! sumus, etiani rebus temporalibus
ad subsidium ejusdein vitas utauiur, oportet nos
ex ea parte, quas ad bane vitatn pertinet, sub-
ditos esse potestatibus, id est, res humanas cum
aliquo honore administrantibus : ex ilia vero
parte, qua Deo credirnus, et in regnum ejus vo-
cainur, non debemus subditi esse cuiquam ho-
mini, id ipsum in nobis evertere cupienti, quod
Deus ad vitam seternam donare dignatus est.
Si quis ergo putat quoniam Christianus est, non
sibi esse vectigal reddenduin, sive tributum,
aut non esse honorem exhibenduin debitum eis
quae hseo curant potestatibus, in inagno errore
vcrsatur. Item si quis sic se putat esse sub
dendum, ut etiain in suam tidem habere potes-
tatem arbitretur eum, qui temporalibus ad-
ministrandis aliqua sublimitate praecellit, in
majorein errorem labitur. Sod modus iste ser-
vandus est, quern Dominus ipse prajcipit, ut
reddamus Ocexari quce aunt Gesaris, et Deo quce
tunt Dei. Quamvis enim ad illud regnum vo-
catl simus, ubi nulla erit potestas hujusmodi,
in hoc tainen itinere conditionem nostram pro
ipso rerutn humanarum ordine debemus tole-
rare, nihil simulate facientes, et in hoc non tarn
hominibus, quam Deo, qui hoc jubet, obteiupe-
rantes. Itaque omnis anima sit subdita subli-
mioribits potestatibus, id est, omnis homo sit
subditus prirnuin divinaj potestati, deinde mun-
danae. Naua si mundana potestas jusseritquod
noil debes facere, contemne potestatem, timen-
do subliuiiorem potestatem. Ipsos humanarum
rerum gradus adverte. Si aliquid jusserit pro
curator, nonne faciendum est ? Tamen si con
tra proconsulem jubeat, non utique contemnis
potestatem, sed eligis majore servire. Non
nine debet minor irasci, si major praelata est.
Hursus si aliquid proconsul jubeat, et aiiud iin-
perator, nuinquid dubitatur, illo oontempto
liuic esse serviendum. Ergo si aliud iinpera-
tor, et aliud Deus jubeat, quid facieinus ? Nuin
quid non Deus imperatori est praeferendus ? Ita
ergo Hulilimioribus potestatibus anima subjicia-
tur, id est, homo. Sive idcirco ponitur anima
pro nomine, qui sccundum hanc discernit, cui ;
subdi debeat, et cui non. Vel homo, qui pro-
uiotioixe virtutein sublimatus est, anima voca-
tut> a digniore parte. Vel, non solum corpus
».it subditura, sed anima, id est, voluntas : hoc
tat, ncn solum corpore, sed et voluntate servia-
t:». Idco debetis subjici, quia uon eat potestaa

nisi a. Deo. Numqiuri enim posset fieri nln
operatione solius Dei, ut tot homines uni aer-
virent, quora considerant uni is secum esse fr»«
gilitatis et naturae. Sed quia Deus subditil
inspirat timorem et obediendi voluntatem, con-
tigit ita. Nee valet quisquam aliquid posse, niri
divinitus ei datum fuerit. Potestas omnis est a
Deo. Sed ea quce stmt, a Deo ordinatce aunt,
Ergo potestas est ordinata,, id est, rationabili-
ter a Deo disposita. Itaque qui resistit pote«-
tati, nolens tributa dare, honorem deferra, et
his similia, Dei ordinationi resistit, qui hoc or-
dinavit, ut talibus subjiciamur. Hoc enim con
tra illos dicitur, qui se putabant ita debere utt
libertate Christiana, ut nulli vel honorem de-
ferrent, vel tributa redderent. Unde magnum
poterat adversus Chrintianam religionem scan-
dalum naici a principibus seculi. Do bona po-
testate patet, quod earn perfecit Deus rationa-
biliter. De mala quoque videri potest, dum et
boni per earn purgantur, et mali damnantur, et
ipsa deterius praccipitatur. Qui potestati re
sistit, cum Deus earn ordinaverit, Dei ordina
tioni rcsistit. Sed hoc tarn grave peccatum est,
quod qui resistunt, ipsi pro contumacia et
perversitate sibi damnationem asternae mortis
acquirunt. Et ideo non debet quis resistere,
sed subjici."

This remarkable passage contains all — the
origin of power, its object, its duties, and ifca
limits. We must observe, that St. Anselm ex
pressly confirms what I have hinted in the text
on the subject of the wrong meaning some
times given in the first centuries to Christian
liberty ; many imagining that this liberty car
ried with it the abolition of the civil powers,
and particularly of those which were infidel.
He also shows the scandal which this doctrine
might cause ; thus explaining how the Apos
tles, without attempting to attribute to the civil
power any extraordinary and supernatural ori
gin, like that of the ecclesiastical power, had
nevertheless powerful reasons for inculcating
that this power emanates from God, and that
whoever resists it, resists the ordinance of God.

Passing on to centuries nearer our own time,
we find the same doctrines in the most eminent
commentators. Cornelius a Lapide interprets
the passage of St. Paul in the same way as St.
Anselm, and explains, by the same reasons, the
solicitude with which the Apostles recommend
ed obedience to the civil powers. These are
his words :

" Omnis anima (omnis homo) potestatibut
sublimioribufi, id est principibus et magistrati-
bus, qui potestate regendi et imperandi sunt
praaditi ; ponitur enim abstractum pro concre-
to; potestatibus, hoc est potestate preeditie,
subdita sit, scilicet iis in rebus, in quibus potes-
tas ilia sublimior et superior est, habetque ju«
et jurisdiction em, puta in temporalibus, sub
dita sit regi et potestati civili, quod propie hie
intendit Apostolus ; per potestatem enim, civi-
lem intelligit : in spiritualibus vero subdita ait
Praslatis, Episcopis et Pontilici.

" Nota. — Pro potestatibus sublimioribus, po-
testatibus supereminentibus vel prcecellentiou*,
ut, Noster vertit, 1 Pet. ii., sive regi quasi prcc-
cellenti, Syrus vertit, potestatibus diynitate prce-
ditis : id est magistratibus secularibus, qui po
testate regendi prasditi sunt, sive duces, give
gubernatores, sive consules, pra tores, <kc.

" SectUares enim inagistratus hie intelliger*

NOTES.

46)

Apontoluac patei. quia his solvuntur tributa et
rectigalia quae jisce potestatibus solvi jubet
Ipee v. 7, ifca Sanctus Basilius de Constit. Jfo-
nant.c. 23.

" Nota. — Ex Clemente Alexand. lib. iv. Stro-
matmn, et S. Aug. in Psal. cxviii. cont. 31,
Jnitit* Eccleitifp., pntn tempore CJiristi et Pauli,
*nmor trot, per Evangelium politias hiintanas,
regna et respublicas seculares everti ; uti jam
fit ab hiKreticis praetendentibus libcrtatcm
Fiangelii: undeeontrarium docent, et studios«
inculeant Christus, cum solvit didrachma, e^
cum jussit Caesari reddi ea quse Caesaris sunt;
et Aj.'ostoli : idque ne in odium traheretur
Christiana rcligio, et ne Christian! abuterentur
libertate fidei ad omnem malitiam.

" Ortus est hie rumor ex secta Judae et Gali-
laeorum de qua Actor. 5, in fine, qui pro liber
tate sua tuendaomne dominium Cajsaris et vee-
tigal, etiam morte proposita abnuebant, de quo
Josephus, libr. xviii. Antiqu. 1. Quae secta diu
inter Judaeos viguit ; adeoque Christus et Apos-
toli in ejus suspicionem vocati sunt, quia ori-
gine erant Galilaei, et reruin novarum praecones.
Hos Galilaeos secuti sunt Judaei omnes, et de
facto Romanis rebellarunt: quod dicerent po-
pulum Dei liberum non debere subjici et ser-
vire infidelibus Romanis ; ideoque a Tito excisi
eunt. Hinc etiam eadem calumnia in Christia-
nos, quiorigine erant et habebantur Judaai, de-
rivata est : unde Apostoli, ut earn amoliantur,
eaepe docent principibus dandum esse honorem
et tributum.

" Quare octo argumentis probat hie Aposto-
lus principibus et magistratibus deberi obedien-
tiam

"His rationibus probat Apostclus Evange
lium, et Christianismuin, regna et magistratus
non evertere, sed firmare et stabilire : quia nil
regna et principes ita confirmat, ac subditorum
bona, Christiana et sancta vita. Adeo, ut etiam
nunc principes Japones et Indi Gentiles ament
Christianos, et suis copiain faciant baptismi et
Christianismi suscipiendi, quia subditos Chris
tianos, magis quam Ethnicos, faciles et obse-
quentes, regnaque sua per eos magis lirmari,
pacari et florere experiuntur."

With regard to the mode in which civil power
prpceeds from God, the celebrated commenta
tor agrees with the other theologians. Like
them, he distinguishes between direct and in
direct communication, and takes care to define
the particular meaning of the term, divine
origin of power, when applied to ecclesiastical
authority.

In his explanation of these words, all power
is from God, he thus expresses himself:

" Non est enim potestas, nisi a Deo ; quasi di-
ceret principatus et magistratus non a diabolo,
nee a solo homine,>sed a Deo ejusque divina
ordinatione et dispositione conditi et instituti
aunt : eis ergo obediendum est.

" Nota priino. — Potestas ececularis est a Deo
mediate ; quia natura et recta ratio, quas a Deo
est, dicat, et hominibus persuasit prceficere
reipublicce magistrates, a quibus regantur.
Potestas vero ecclesiastica immediate est a Deo
iiiBtituta ; quia Christus ipse Petrum et Apos-
tolott Ecclesice prcefecit."

The celebrated Dom Calmet explains the
game passage with no less learning; he quotes
numerous passages from the holy Fathers,
ihowmg what ideas the firt>t Christians held

2 02

on the subject of civil power, an I how calum
nious'y they .have been accused of being th«
disturbers of public order.

" Omnis animn potcntntibi.s, <fec. Pergit hie
Apostolus docere Fideles vitas ac morum officia.
Qua) superior! capite vidimus, eo desinunt, ut
bonus ordo et pax in Ecclesia interque Fideles
servetur. Haec potissimum spectant ad obedi-
entiam, quam unusquisque superioribus pctes-
tatibus debet. Christianorum libertatem atque
a Mosaicis legibus immunitntem commenda-
verat Apostolus ; at ne quis monitis abutatur,
docet hie, quae debeat esse subditorum sub-
jectio erga Reges et Magistratus.

" Hoc ipsum gravissime monuerant primos
Ecclesias discipulos Petrus et Jacobus; repetit-
que Paulus ad Titum scribens, sive ut Christi
anos, insectantium injuriis undique obnoxios,
in patientia contineret, sive nt vvlgi opinionem
deleret, qua discipuli Jesu Christi, omnes ferme
Galileei, eententiam Judve Gaufciiitce sequi, et
prixcipum authoritati repugnare censebantur.

" Omin'ft nin'ma, quilibet, quavis conditione
aut dignitete, poteatatibns ntblimioribut snbdita
sit; Regibus, Principibus, Magistratibus, UP
denique quibus legitima est authoritas, siv<
absoluta, sive alteri obnoxia. Neminem exci
pit Apostolus, non Presbyteros, non Praesules
non Monachos, ait Theodoretus : illaesa tameu
Ecclesiasticorum immunitate. Tune solum
modo parere non debes, cum aliquid Divina9
Legi contrarium imperatur : tune enim praefer-
enda est debita Deo obedientia; quin tamen
vel arma capere adversus Principes, vel in se-
ditionem abire liceat. Repugnandum est in
iis tan turn, quee justitiam, ac Dei legem vio-
lant; in caeteris parendum. Si imperaverint
aut idolorum cultum aut justitiae violationem
cum necis vel bonorum jacturae intermina-
tione, vitam et fortunas discrimini objicito, ao
repugnato ; in reliquis autem obtempera.

" Non est enim potestus niai a Deo. Abso-
lutissima in libertate conditus est homo, nulli
creataa rei, at uni Deo subditus. Nisi mun-
dum invasisset una cum Adami transgressione
peccatuin, mutuam asqualitatem libertatemque
homines servassent. At libertate abuses dam-
•navit Deus, ut parerent iis, quos ipse princi
pes illis daret, ob poenam arrogantiae, qua pares
Conditori efiici voluerunt. At, inquies, quis
nesciat, quorumdam veterum Imperiorum ini-
tia et incrementa ex injuria atque ambitione
profecta. Nemrod, exempli causa, Ninus, Na-
buchodonosor, aliique quamplures, an Princi
pes erant a Deo constituti? Nonne similius
vero est, violenta Imperia primum exorta esse
ab imperandi libidine ? liberorum vero Impe
riorum originem fuisse hominum inetum, qui
sese impares propulsandse externorum injurise
sentientes, aliquem sibi Principem creavere;
datamque sibi a Deo naturalem ulciscendi in-
jurias potestatem, volentes libenteeque alteri
tradiderunt? Quam vere igitur docet Apos
tolus, quamlibet potestatem a Deo esse, eum-
que esse positae inter homines authoritaUs in-
stitutorem ?"

He points out four ways in which power m*y
be said to emanate from God, and it is re
markable that none of them are extraordinary
or supernatural ; all of them serve to confirm
more and more what reas in and the very
nature of things teach us.

Omnino Deus potestatis antor et causa ett

402

NOTES.

[. Quod, he minibus tacite inspiraverit con-
silium subjieiendi se uni, a quo defenderentur.
II. Quod imperia inter homines utilissima sint
Bervandae concordiae, discipline, ac religioni.
Porro quicquid boni est, a Deo ceu fonte pro-
ticisciter. III. Cum potestas tuendiabaggres-
sore vitam vel opes, hominibus a Deo tradita,
atque ab ipsis in Principem conversa, a Deo
primum proveniat, Principes ea potestate ab
hominibus donati, hanc ab ipso Deo aceepisse
jure dicuntur; quamobrem Petrus humanam
creaturani nuncupat, quam Paulus potestatem
a Deo institutam : bumana igitur et divina est,
varia ratione spectata, uti diximus. IV. De-
nique suprema autboritas a Deo est, utpote
quam Deus, a sapientibus institutam, probavit.

" Nulla unquam gens saecularibus potestati-
bus magis paruit, quam primae aetatis Cbristiani,
qui a Christo Jesu et ab Apostolis edocti, nun-
quam ausi sunt Principibus a Providentia sibi
datis repugnare. Discipulos fugere tantum
jubet Christus. Ait Petrus, Cbristum nobis
exemplum reliquicse, cum sese Judicum in-
iquitate pessime agi passus est. Monet hie
Paulus, resistere te Dei voluntati, atque aeternae
Jamnationis reum emci, si potestati repugnas.
'Quam vis nimius et eopiosus noster populus,
aon tamen adversus violentiam se ulciscitur :
patitur,' ait sanctus Cyprianus. « Satis virium
est ad pugnain ; at omnia perpeti ex Christo
didicimus. Cui bello non idonei, non prompti
t'uissemus, etiam copiis impares, qui tain liben-
ter trucidrmur ? si non apud istam disciplinam
magis occuli lieeret, quam occidere/ inquit
Tertullianus. ' Cum nefanda patimur, ne ver-
bo quidem reluctamur, sed Deo remittimus ul-
tionem,' scribebat Lactantius. Sanctus Ain-
brosius : ' coactus, repugnare non novi. Dolere
potero, potero flere, potero gemere : abversus
arma, milites, Gothos quoque; lacrymaa meae
artna sunt. Talia enim sunt munimenta Sa-
cerdotis. Aliter ne debeo nee possum resis
tere.' "

I have said in the text, that there was to be
remarked a singular coincidence of opinions
on the origin of society between the philoso
phers of antiquity, deprived of the light of
faith, and those of our days who have aban
doned this light; both wanting the only guide,
which is the Mosaic history, have found in
>iheir researches after the origin of things,
nothing more than chaos, in the physical as
well as in the moral order. In support of my
assertion, I will insert passages from two cele
brated men, in which the reader will find, with
very little difference, the same language as in
Hobbes, Rousseau, and other writers of the
same school.

" There was a time," says Cicero, " when
men wandered in the fields like the brutes,
feeding on prey like wild beasts, deciding
nothing by reason, but every thing by force.
No religion was then professed, no morality
observed; there were no laws of marriage;
the father could not distinguish his own chil
dren, and the possession of property by virtue
of principles of equity was unknown. Hence
the blind, unrestrained passions ruled tyranni
cally in the midst of error and ignorance, and
used the powers of the body for their gratifi
cation as their most injurious satellites."

" Nam fuit quoddam tempus cum in agris
fcoittines passim bestiarum more vagabantur,

et sibi victu ferino vitim propagabant; ne4
ratione animi quidqnam, sed pJeraque viribui
corporis administrabant. Nondum divinae re-
ligionis, non humani officii ratio colebatur;
nemo nuptia? viderat legitimas, non certoi
quisquam inspexerat liberos ; non jus «equa-
bile quid utilitatis haberet, acceperat. Ita
propter errorem atque inscitiam, caeca ac tem-
eraria dominatrix animi cupiditas ad se ex-
plendam viribus corporis abutebatur, perni-
ciosissimis satellitibus." (De Inv. 1.)

The same doctrine is to be found in Horace :"

" Cum prorepserunt primis animal ia terris,
Mutum et turpe pecus, glandem atque cubilia proptar
Unguibus et pugnis, dein fustibus, atque ita porro
Pugnabant armis, quae post fabricaverat usus :
Donee verba, quibus voces sensuaque notarent,
Nominaque invenere : dehinc absistere bello,
Oppida coeperunt muuire et ponere leges,
Neu quis fur esset, neu latro, neu quis adulter.
Nam fuit ante Helenam mulier teterrima belli
Causa : sed igiiotis perierunt mortibus illi,
Quos Venerem incertam rapientes, more ferarum,
Viribus editior caedebat, ut in grege taurus.
Jurainventa metu injusti fateare necesseest,
Tempora si fastosque velis evolvere mundi,
Nee natura potest justo secernere iuiquum,
Dividit ut bona diversis, fugienda petendis."

Satir. lib. i. sat 3.

"When men first began to crawl upon the
earth, they were only like a herd of brute and
speechless animals, contending with their nails
or their fists for a few acorns or for a den.
They afterwards contended with sticks and
such arms as experience taught them to invent.
At length they discovered the use of words to
express their thoughts ; gradually they be
came weary of fighting, and built cities, and
made laws to prevent theft, robbery, and adul
tery ; for, before Helen, women had been the
cause of terrible wars. He who was the
strongest, abusing his power, after the manner
of brutes, attacked the weak, like a bull among
a subject herd ; they thus contended for the
favors of inconstant Venus ; but their end was
inglorious. If you consult the origin of things,
you will acknowledge that laws have been
made in apprehension of injustice. Nature
enables us to discern good from evil, what is
to be sought after from what is to be avoided,
but she is incapable of distinguishing justice
from injustice."

NOTE 29, p. 311.

Concerning this question, as to the direct or
indirect origin of civil power, it is remarkable,
that, in the time of Louis of Bavaria, the im
perial princes solemly sanctioned the opinion
that power emanates directly from God. In
an imperial Constitution, published against tha
Roman Pontiff, they established the following
proposition : " In order to avoid so great an
evil, we declare that imperial dignity and
power proceed directly from God. — Ad tantum
rnalum evitandum, declaramus, quod imperialis
rlignitas et potestas est immediate a Deo soio."
That we may form an idea of the spirit and
tendency of this doctrine, let us see what kind
of man this Louis of Bavaria was. Excom
municated by John XXII., and at a later
period by Clement VI., he went so far as to
depose this latter PC ntiff, in order to exalt to
the Pontifical Chaii the antipope Peter, foi

NOTES.

468

which r«»sos the Pope, after repeated admo
nitions, divested him of his imperial dignity,
substituting Charles IV. in his stead.

Ziegler the Lutheran, a zealous supporter
of direct communication, in order to explain
his doctrine, compares the election of a prince
to that of a minister of the Church. The lat
ter, says he, does not receive his spiritual
authority from the people, but immediately
from God. From this explanation it is evident
with how much reason I have said, that such
a doctrine tended to place the temporal and
spiritual powers on a level, by making it ap
pear that the latter could not claim, by reason
of its origin, any superiority over the former.
I do not mean, however, to assert, that this
declaration, made in the time of Louis of Ba
varia, had directly this aim, since it may rather
be regarded as a sort of weapon employed
against the pontifical authority, the ascendency
of which was dreaded. But it is well known
that doctrines, besides the influence resulting
immediately from them, possess a peculiar
force, which continues to develope itself as op
portunities occur. Some time after, we see
the kings of England defenders of the reli
gion? supremacy which they had just usurped,
supporting the proposition advanced in the
imperial Constitution.

I know not with what foundation it can be
said that Zieglcr's opinion was general before
the time of Puffendorf ; in consulting ecclesi
astical and secular writers, we do not find the
least support for such an assertion. Let us be
just even to our adversaries. Ziegler's opin
ion, defended by Boeder and others, was at
tacked by certain Lutherans, amongst others
by Boehmer, who observes, that this opinion
is not favorable, as its partisans pretend, to the
security of states and princes. To repeat what
I have already explained in the text, I do not
consider that the opinion of direct communica
tion, rightly understood, is so inadmissible and
dangerous as some have imagined ; but as it
lay open to an evil interpretation, Catholic
theologians have done well to combat its ten
dency to encroach upon the divine origin of
ecclesiastical power.

NOTE 30, p. 317.

I might quote a thousand remarkable pas
sages showing the reader how unjust it is in
the enemies of the clergy to accuse them of
being favorable to despotism. But, to be brief,
and to spare him the fatigue of perusing so
many texts and quotations, I shall merely pre
sent to him a specimen of the current opinions
on this point in Spain at the beginning of the
17th century, a few years after the death of
Philip. II., the monarch who is represented to
as is the persjnification of religious fanati
cism and political tyranny. Among the numer
ous books published at that time on these
delicate points, there is a very singular one,
which does not appear to be very well known ;
its title is as follows :

A Treatise on the State and Christian Politics,
for the use of Kings and Princes, and those
holding government appointments, by Brother
John de Ste.-Marie, a religious in the pro
vince of St. Joseph, of the order of our glori-
ws Father St. Francis.

This bo^k, printed at Madrid in 1616, far-

nished with all the privileges, approbations,
an/d other formalities in use, must have been
well received at that epoch, since it was re
printed at Barcelona in 1616, by Sebastian de
Cormellas. Who shall say whether this work
did not inspire Bossuet with the idea of that
intituled Politics derived from the very word*
of Scripture ? The title is certainly analo
gous, and the idea is in fact the same, although
differently carried out. " I think," says Brother
John de Ste.-Marie, " I shall escape all diffi
culty, by laying before kings in this work, not
my own reasonings, nor those afforded by emi
nent philosophers and the records of profane
history, but the words of God and His saints,
and the divine and canonical histories, whose
teaching commands respect, and whose au
thority cannot be prejudicial to any one, how
ever powerful a sovereign he may be ; in fact,
to these a Christian cannot but submit, since
every thing in them is dictated by the Holy
Ghost, the author of these divine maxims. If
I cite examples of Gentile kings, if I appeal
to antiquity, and adduce passages from phi
losophers unconnected with the people of God,
I shall do so incidentally only, and as we re
sume possession of what of right belongs to
us, and has been unjustly usurped by others."
(Chap. 2.)

The work is dedicated to the king. Ad
dressing him, and praying him to read it, and
not to allow himself to be imposed upon by
those who would dissuade him from its peru
sal, the good religious says, with a pleasing
candor, " Let no one tell you that these things
are metaphysical, impracticable, and all but
impossible."

The following inscription is placed at the
head of the 1st chapter: "Ad vos (OReges)
sunt hi sermones mei, ut discatis sapientiam
et non excidatis : qui enim custodieriut justa
juste, justificabuntur: et qui didiscerint ista,
invenient quid respondeant." (Sap. 6, v. 10.)
In the first chapter, the title of which is,
I " A treatise in which the import and definition
! of this word commonwealth are briefly dis-
j cussed," we read these remarkable words :
" So that monarchy must degenerate if it be
absolute and witnout restraint (for power and
authority thus become unreasonable); in all
things falling under the cognizance of law, it
should bt bound by the law ; and in special
and incidental matters it should be subject to
advice, from the connection which it ought to
have with the aristocracy, which is its assist
ant, and forms a council of learned and pow
erful men. Without this wise modification,
monarchy will create great errors of govern
ment, will give but little satisfacticn, but, on
the contrary, will cause great discontent among
the governed. The wisest and most enlighten
ed men of every age have invariably consider
ed this form of government the best; and
without such a modification no city or king
dom has ever been considered well governed.
Good kings and the wisest statesmen have
always been in favor of this system ; bad
kings, on the contrary, elated by their power,
have pursued the opposite course. Hence, if
a monarch, whoever he be, decides by himself,
without taking advice, or against the advic*
of his councillors, he passes the legitimat*

NOTES.

bounds of monarchy, and even when his de
cisions are fortunate, he is a tyrant. History
is full of these examples and of their disas
trous consequences ; it will be enough to ad
duce one only, that of Tarquin the Proud, as
related in the 1st book of Livy, a king whose
pride was unbounded, and who, to render him
self absolute, and to put every thing under his
feet, strove to weaken the authority of the
Roman Senate by diminishing the number of
Senators, thus arrogating to himself an abso
lute right of decision in all the affairs of the
empire."

In chapter 2, in which the author treats of
" the meaning of the word king," we read as
follows: "We meet here very opportunely
with the third meaning of the word king,
which is the same as that of father; as we find
in Genesis, when the Sichemites gave to their
king the name of Abimelech, which means

Father and Lord.' Kings were formerly
ftyled the fathers of their states. Whence
King Theodoric, defining royal majesty (as
Cassiodorus relates), makes use of these words :

Princeps et Pastor publicus et communis. — The
king is the public and common father of the
state.' From the extreme resemblance be
tween the office of a king and that of a father,
Plato was induced to call the king the father
of a family ; and the philosopher Xenophon
says: Bonus Princeps nihil differt a bono Pa-
Ire. The difference solely consists in one
having few and the other a great number of
persons under Vs dominion. And it is cer
tainly very reasonable to give kings this title
of father ; for they ought to be the fathers of
.heir subjects and of their kingdoms, watch
ing over their welfare and preservation with
the love and solicitude of a Father. Royalty,
says Homer, is nothing else than a paternal
government, like that of a father over his
children : ' Ipsum namque regnum imptrium est
suapte natura paternum.' The best manner of
governing well is, for the king to be possessed
with the love of a father, and to regard his sub
jects as his own children. The love of a father
for his children, his solicitude that they should
want for nothing, his devotedness to each of them,
all this bears the greatest resemblance to the love
of a king for his subjects. He is called father,
and this name lays him under the obligation of
acting in accordance with the meaning it conveys.
This name, so well adapted to kings, and which,
when well considered, is the greatest of all
titles and epithets of majesty and power, since
it embraces all, the genus and the species, the
father being a\one the lord, the master, or the
chief; this name, I say, is above all human
names for expressing authority and solicitude.
Antiquity, with a view to confer upon an em
peror an extraordinary degree of honor, called
him the Father of the State, which was greater
than Caesar, Augustus, or any other glorious
name ; it decreed him this title, either to nat
ter him, or to lay him under the weighty obli
gations required by the name of father. In
fine, to give kings this name is to remind them
of their duty, viz. to direct, govern, and main
tain their states and kingdoms in justice ; like
good pastors, to feed their rational sheep; liko
physicians, to care for them and heal them ;
10 take care of ^heir subjects, as a father does
.of kis children, vith prudence, love, and soli

citude ; for the king is for them, rather than fol

himself. ' Kings are under greater obligation*
to their kingdoms and states than to them*
selves ;' in fact, if we consider the institution
of kings and monarchs, we shall find that the
king was appointed for the good of the king*
| dom, and not the kingdom for the good of the
king."

In his 3d chapter, of which the following is
the title, " Whether the name of king neces
sarily implies an office," he thus expresses him
self: — "Besides what we have advanced, ijt
may be proved that the name of a king is the
name of an office, by the common maxim, ' the
benefice is the reward of the office.' Since,
therefore, kings receive such great benefices,
not only from the considerable tributes they re
ceive from the State, but also from the advan
tage they derive from benefices a,nd ecclesias
tical rents, they certainly do hold an office, and
1 that the greatest of all, for which reason the
entire kingdom so bountifully assists them.
i This is what St. Paul says in his Epistle to the
j Romans : Jdeo et tributa prcestatis, &e. King-
! doms do not contribute for nothing ; all those
! states, taxes, and great revenues, that name,
[ that high authority and eminent dignity, are
not given gratuitously. They would have their
title of king for nothing if they had no sub
jects to rule and govern, and if they were freed
I from this obligation : In multitudine populi
diynitaa regie. This great dignity, wealth,
' rank, majesty, and honor, are possessed by
them with the perpetual obligation of ruling
and governing their states, so as to preserve
them in peace and justice. Let kings bear in
mind, therefore, that they are only invested with
this title to serve their kingdoms ; and the lat~
ter, that kings ought to be paid. They hold an
office requiring them to labor : Qui prceest in
sollicitudine, says St. Paul. Such is the title
and the name of king, and of him who rules:
one who is the first not only as regards honors
and enjoyments, but also as regards cares and
solicitude. Let them not imagine that they art
| kings merely in name and representation, and
appointed only to make themselves honored;
merely to exhibit their royal person and sove
reign dignity in a pompous manner, like some
of the kings of the Persians and Medes, who
were mere shadows of kings, forgetful of their
office, as though they had never received iu
Nothing is more destitute of life and substance
than the shadowy image which stirs its arm or
its head only when some one acts upon it. God
forbade the Israelites to have statues or paint
ed images, representing a hand where there
was none, and a face that did not exist, exhi
biting to the eye an imaginary body, and feign
ing by apparently living actions to see and to
speak ; for God loves not feigned images, paint
ed men, or sculptured kings, like those spoken
of by David : Os habent et non loquentur, ocu-
loa habent et non videbunt. What does it avail
to have a tongue that speaks not, eyes (hat sea
not, ears that hear not, or hands which do not
work ? Is it any thing more than an idol of
stone, bearing only the external representation
of a king ? To bear the supreme name and all
authority, and not to be capable of any thing,
sounds badly. The names which God has
given to things are like the title of a book,
which, in a few words, contains every thing

NOTES.

46fi

that Ui included in the book. This name of
king was given to kings by God himself, and
contains every thing to which they are obliged
by virtue of their office. If their actions are
not in accordance with the name, it is as if the
mouth should affirm what the head denies, like
a buffoon, whom no one believes in earnest.
Every one would regard as a mockery and a
delusion a signboard bearing the inscription,
' Pure gold sold here,' if, in reality, nothing but
tinsel was sold. The name of king should not
be an empty thing, a mere superfluity in the
royal person — it should be what it implies and
gives itself out for. Your name indicates that
you rule and govern; rule and govern, there
fore, in reality. Do not be mere pasteboard
kings, to use a common expression, that is,
kings in name only. In France, there was a
time when kings had nothing but the name,
and the government was entirely in the hands
of their generals, whilst they, like animals,
were occupied only with gluttony and luxuri
ous living. That it might be known they were
living, for they never went out, they used to
appear in public once a year, on the 1st of
May, in the squares of Paris, seated on a
throne, as kings in a dramatic representation,
and there they were saluted, gifts were pre
sented to them, and they, on their part, grant
ed certain favors to whomsoever they thought
S roper. In order to show to what a degree of
egradation they had fallen, Eginard tells us,
in the beginning of his Life of Charlemagne,
that they were devoid of courage and incapa
ble of great actions ; they merely held the
empty name of king; for, in reality they were
not kings, neither had they any participation
in the government or riches of the kingdom ;
every thing was entrusted to the mayors of the
palace, styled majors-domo of the royal house
hold; and the latter usurped every thing to
such a degree, that they left the wretched king
nothing but his title. Seated on his throne,
with his long hair and beard, the monarch
played his part, pretending to give audiences
to ambassadors arriving from all parts, and to
furnish them with answers to convey to their
masters; whilst in reality they merely answer
ed according to the instructions they had re
ceived, either by word or writing, although
they appeared to answer on their own respon
sibility. So that royal power for such a king
was reduced to the mere name, to this throne
and this ridiculous majesty ;.the real kings and
masters were those favorites by whom the mo
narch was oppressed. God said of one of the
kings of Samaria, that he was merely to be
compared to a little vapor, which, seen from
afar, appeared something, but when touched
-as no longer any thing. Simia in tecto rex
fatuus iu solio suo. (St. Bernard, de Consider
ad Eug. cap. 7.) A monkey on a housetop,
which, presenting the appearance of a man, is
tiken for such by those who know not what it
\t ; such is a useless king upon a throne. Mon-
kcys also serve to amuse children, and the king
is a Laughing-stock to him who looks upon him
apart from any royal act, invested with autho
rity, and making no use of it. A king dressed
in purple, seated on a throne with great ma
jesty, suited to his grandeur, grave, severe, and
terrible in appearance, but in : valily an abso-
'•tie nonentity. Like a painting de la main du

Greco, tohfch, placed in an elevated position,

and seen from a distance, looks very beautiful,
and produces a great effect, but when nearly
approached is but a rough sketch. All pomp
and majesty, properly considered, are a mere
sketch and shadow of a king. Simulacra gen
tium, says David, speaking of kings who have
nothing but the name; and according to the
Hebrew text : Imago fictilis et contrita. A
figure of pounded earth, crumbling on all sides j
an empty phantom, great in appearance, but a
mere piece of deception. The name which
Elifaz unjustly applied to Job is perfectly ap
plicable here, when he designated this good
and just king, a man void of foundation and
substance, bearing only external appearances ;
he styled him Myrmicoleon, that is, the name
of the animal which, in Latin, is called For-
mica-leo, because it is a monstrous conforma
tion, one half of its body, in fact, representing
a fearful lion, an animal always used as an
emblem of a king, and the other half an ant,
that is, a most feeble and insignificant thing.
Such are the authority, the name, throne, and
majesty of a fierce lion and of a powerful mo
narch ; but as regards the essence, you will fin<*
only that of an ant. There have been kingi
whose very name filled the world with terror .
but these kings were void of substance in them
selves, in their kingdoms they were as mere antsj
their names and offices were very great, but with
out effect. Let the king, therefore, bear in mind
that he has an office to fulfill, and not only an
office, but that he is obliged to speak and la
bor on all offices, of which he is the general
superintendent. St. Augustine and St. Tho
mas, explaining that passage of St. Paul which
treats of episcopal dignity, say, that the word
bishop, in Greek, is composed of two roots
signifying the same thing as superintendent.
The name of bishop, king, and every other su
perior, are names signifying superintendence
over, and co-operatiou with, every office. This
is what is expressed by the sceptre used by
kings in public acts, a ceremony used by the
Egyptians, who borrowed it from the Israelites.
The latter, in order to point out the duty of a
good king, painted an open eye placed in an
elevated position on the point of a rod in the
form of a sceptre, representing, on the one
hand, the great power of the king, the solici
tude and vigilance which he ought to exer
cise; on the other, that he ought not to bo sa
tisfied with holding the supreme power, with
occupying the most exalted and most eminent
position, and, in possession of these, passing
his life in sleep and repose ; on the contrary,
he should be the first in commanding and
counselling, he should appear in every office,
incessantly watching and inspecting, like a
man doing the business in which he is
engaged. Jeremiah also understands it IB
this sense, for when God asked him what he
saw, he answered : Viryam vigilantem ego vi
deo. Thou hast seen well ; and verily I tell
thee, that I who am supreme, will watch ovei
my flock; I who am a shepherd, will watch
over my sheep ; I who am a king and a mo
narch, will watch without ceasing over all my
inferiors. Eegem festinantem, says the Chal
dean, a king who is in haste ; for, although he
has eyes and sees, if he remains iu repose, in
his pleasures and amusements, if he does not

466

NOTES

go about from place to place, if he does not act |
BO as to become acquainted with all the good
and e\il that is going on in his kingdom, he is
as though he did not exist. Let him consider
that he is the head, and even the head of the
lien, which even in its sleep keeps its eyes
open; that he is the rod with eyes, that he is
the torch ; let him open his eyes, therefore, and
sleep no longer, trusting to those who are blind
ed, and see no better than moles ; who, if they I
have eyes, only employ them to see their own
interest, and to distinguish at a greater dis
tance what may conduce to their own profit
and aggrandizement. Such persons have eyes
for themselves, and it would be better if they
had them not, for their eyes are those of birds
of prey — of vultures."

In his fourth chapter, the title of which is,
" On the office of kings," the author thus ex
plains the origin of royal power and its obli
gations : — " From this it follows," says he,
" that the institution of the state of royalty,
or king, represented by the head, was not
merely for the use and profit of the king him
self, but for that of his whole kingdom. Hence
he ought to see, hear, feel, and understand,
not only by himself and for himself, but by
all and for all. He ought not merely to fix his
regards upon his own greatness, but on the
good of his subjects, since it is for them, and
not for himself, that he was born a king. Ad-
verte, said Seneca to the Emperor Nero, rem- I
publicam non ease tnam, sed te reipublicce. — !
When men first issued from solitude, and |
united to live in common, they knew that
every one would naturally labor for himself
or his own family, and that no one would take
an interest in all ; they agreed to select a man
of great merit, that all might have recourse i
to him ; a man who, distinguished above all i
the rest by his virtue, his prudence, and cour- !
age, should be the chief over all, should govern
all, watch over all, and should exert himself j
for the advantage of all — for the common j
weal — like a father for his children, or a shep
herd for his sheep. Now, considering that
this man, abandoning his own affairs to look
after those of others, could not maintain him
self and his family (every one was then main
tained by the labor of his hands), it was agreed
that all should contribute to his support, in
order that he might not be distracted by any
other occupations than those of the common
weal and the public government. Such was
the end for which kings were instituted — such
was their beginning. The good king ought to be
more solicitous for the public than for his own
private interest. He possesses his grandeur at
the expense of great solicitude; the anxiety,
the disquietude of mind and body, which is
fatigue for him, is repose, support, and protec
tion for others. Thus smiling flowers and
fruits, whilst they adorn the tree, exist not so
much for the tree, nor on account of the tree,
as for the sake of others. Do not imagine that
all happiness is in the beauty and grace of
the flower, and in those who are the flowers
of the world : powerful kings and princes may
be termed the flowers of the world, but flowers
who consume their lives, who are full of solici
tude, and whose fruit will rather contribute
"M the enjoyment of others than to their own.
For,' say,* tin Jew Philo, 'the king is to the

kingdom what the wise 5s to the ignorant man,
what the shepherd is to his sheep, the fathet
to his children, light tc darkness, and what
God is upon earth to all his creatures.' The
investiture he gave to Moses, when he ap
pointed him the chief and king over his
people, was to tell him that he ought to be afl
God, the common father of all : for the office
and dignity of a king require all this. Omnium
domos iltiua mgiln defendit, omnium otium illiut
industria, omnium vacationem illiua occupatio.
(Seneca, Lib. de Consol.) This is what "the
prophet Samuel says to Saul, recently elected
king, when he expounds to him the obligations
of his office: 'Consider, Saul, that Gel has
this day constituted thee king over all this
kingdom ; thou art bound by the office to
govern the whole of it. Thou hast not been
made a king to enjoy repose, to become proud,
and to glory in the dignity of a king ; but tc
govern thy kingdom, to maintain it in peace
and justice, to defend and protect it against
its enemies.' Rex eligitur, non, ut sui ipsiut
curam habeat, says Socrates, et sese molliter
curet, sed ut per ipsum ii, qui e.legerunt, bene
b'eateque vivant. They were not created and
introduced into the world for their own con
venience and pleasure or to be fed upon every
dainty morsel of food (if such were the case,
no one would willingly submit to them) ; but
they were appointed for the advantage and
common good of all their subjects, to govern
them, protect them, enrich them, preserve and
serve them. All this is perfectly admissible;
for although the sceptre and crown appear to
be the emblems of domination, the office of a
king is, strictly speaking, that of a slave.
Servus communis, sive servua honoratus, are
words which have sometimes been applied to
a king, quiet a tota republica stipendia accipit
ut serviat omnibus. And the Supreme Pontiff
glories in this title, Servus servorum Dei. In
ancient times this name of slave was one of
infamy ; but since Christ bore it it has become
a name full of honor. Now, since it is neither
repugnant nor derogatory to the essence nor
nature of the Son of God, neither can it be
derogatory to the nature and grandeur of the
king.

" Antigonus, king of Macedon, was perfectly
aware of this, and said candidly to his son,
when he rebuked him for the severity with
which he governed his subjects: An ignoraa,
fili mi, regnum nostrum nobilem ease servitutem f
Before his time Agamemnon expressed him
self in the same manner : ' We live apparently
in the midst of grandeur and exaltation} but
in reality we are the servants and slaves of
our subjects.' Such is the office of good kings
— an honorable servitude. From the moment
of their being created kings, their actions no
longer depend upon their own will, but on tie
laws and rules which have been given tnem,
and -on the conditions upon which they hare
undertaken their office. And although they
may fail to comply with these condition*
(which are the effects of a human convention),
they may not fail to comply with that dictated
by natural and divine law, the mistress of
kings as well as of subjects. Now, these rulei
are almost all included in the words of Jere
miah, wiich God, according to St. Jerome*
addresses to kings ?n giving them the com

NOTES.

467

Band : — Facite judicium et Justitiam, liberate
9t oppresaum de manu calumniator is, et advenam,
et pupillum, et viduam nolite contristare, neque
opprimatis inique, et sanguinem innocentum non
effundatis. Such is the summary of the obli
gations of a king ; such the laws of his insti
tution, which lay him under the obligation of
maintaining in peace and justice the orphan,
the widow, the poor, the rich and the powerful
man, and him who can do nothing for himself.
Upon him reat the wrongs of his ministers
towards some, the injustice suffered by others,
the sorrows of tie afflicted, the tears of those
who weep, not to mention many other bur
den* — a flood of cares and obligations — im
posed upon every prince or chief of a state.
For if he is the head to command and govern,
and to bear the burdens of others, he should
also be the feet upon which the whole weight
of the state is sustained. Kings and mon-
archs, says the holy man Job, as we have seen,
bear and carry the world upon their shoulders,
on account of their office. Hence the figure
we meet with in the Book of Wisdom : In veste
poderis, quam habebat summits sacerdos, totus
erat orbis terrarum. From the moment a man
is created king, let him consider himself load
ed with a burden so heavy that a strong car
riage would not support it. Moses felt this
strongly; for God having made him His
viceroy, His captain-general, His lieutenant
in the government, instead of returning thanks
for so distinguished a favor, he complains that
go heavy a burden should be placed upon him.
Cur afflixisti aervum tuum? Cur imposuiati
pondus universi populi hujus super me? Again,
continuing his complaint, he says, Numquid
ego concept omnem hanc multitudinem f Aut
genui earn, ut dicaa mihi : Porto, eoa ? — * Lord,
have I conceived all this multitude, or begot
ten them, and thou shouldst say to me, Carry
them on thy shoulders ?' Now, it is remark
able that jfiod said nothing of that to Moses ;
he merely tells him to rule and govern them,
to fulfill towards them the office of captain and
chief. Nevertheless, what says Moses ? That
God commanded him to bear them on his
shoulders — Porto eoa. It appears, then, that
he has no reason to complain, since he is merely
told to be the captain, to direct, rule, and
govern. It is a common expression, ' A word
to the wise is sufficient.' He who knows and
understands what it is to govern and to be the
chief, knows also that government and obliga-
xion are the same thing. The very words
reyere and portare are synonymous, and have
the same meaning : there is no government
nor employment without obligation and labor.
In the distribution of the offices which Jacob
made among his Children, he appointed Reu
ben to be the first in his inheritance and the
highest in command — prior in donis, major in
imperio. And St. Jerome translates major ad
portandum, for command and obligation are
the same thing ; and the obligation and the
labor are so much more considerable as the
command is more exalted. St. Gregory, in his
Morolea, says, that the power, domination, and
rule of kings over the whole world should not
be looked upon as an honor but as a labor.
Pot«3ta,8 accepta non honor, sed onus ceatimatur,
And this truth was ever received by the blind-
; si, "taong the Gentiles. One of them, taking

the same view of the subject, says, speaking
of another Pagan, that his god Apollo had
made him all glorious and happy by the gift
of a certain office : Lcetus erat, r^&toqnc onen
gaudebat honore. So that power and command
is composed of a little honor and weighty ob
ligations. The Latin word for honor only
differs from that for burden by one letter — onot
and onus. Besides, there always were and
always will be persons willing to undertake
the responsibility for the sake of the honor,
although every one avoids as much as possible
any thing that lays him under an obligation,
and seeks after what is glorious ; a dangerous
choice, for the latter is not always the most
secure."

If such language is taxed with flattery, it
would be difficult to comprehend what is meant
by telling the truth. And observe, that the above
truths are not told without reflection ; the good
religious takes such pains to inculcate them,
that were it not for the childlike candor of
his language, which discloses the purest of in
tentions, we might accuse him of irreverence.
This passage is long, but exceedingly interest
ing, for it faithfully reflects the spirit of the
age. Innumerable other texts might be ad
duced to prove how unjustly the Catholic clergy
are accused of being favorable to despotism.
I cannot conclude without inserting here two
excellent passages from the learned Father
Fr. Ferdinand de Zeballos, a religious of the
order of St. Jerome in the Monastery of St.
Isidore del Campo, and known by a work inti
tuled, "False Philosophy, or Atheism, Deism,
Materialism, and other new sects convicted of
State Crimes against their Sovereigns and
Rulers, against the Magistrates and Lawful
Authorities." Madrid, 1776. Observe with
what tact the learned writer appreciates the
influence of religion upon society. (Book ii.
dissertation 12, art. 2.)

" A mild and moderate government i» mott
agreeable to the spirit of the gospel.

" One excellent and estimable point in ouf
holy religion is, that she offers to human poll-
cy, in her important truths, assistance in pre
serving good order among men with less trou
ble. 'The Christian religion,' says Montes
quieu, with much truth, ' is far removed from
pure despotism. Mildness being so strongly
recommended in the gospel, it is opposed to
the despotic fury with which princes might
administer justice and practise cruelties.' This
opposition on the part of Christianity to the
cruelty of the monarch should not be active,
but passive and full of mildness, which Chris
tianity can never lose sight of without losing
its character. This is the difference between
Catholic Christians and the Calvinists and
other Protestants. Basnages and Jurieu, in
the name of all their reformaticn, wrote that
it is allowable for the people to wage wwr
against their princes whenevei they are op
pressed by them, or their conduct appears
tyrannical.

"The Catholic Church has never changed
the doctrines she received from Jesus Christ
and His Apostles. She loves moderation, she
rejoices in good > bu; she does not resist <Ti^

468

NOTES.

ihe overcomes it by patience. Governments
established under the direction of false reli
gions cannot be satisfied with a moderate po
licy. With them the despotism or tyranny of
princes, the ferocity of penalties, the rigor of
an inflexible and cruel legislation, are so many
necessary evils. But why has it been given to
the Catholic religion only to purge human
governments from such inhumanity? First,
on account of the forcible impression produced
by her dogmas ; secondly, through the effect
of the grace of Jesus Christ, which renders
men docile in doing good, and energetic in
combating evil. Wherever false religion pre
dominates, and where, in consequence, these
two means of aid are wanting, the government
is under the necessity of supplying them as far
as possible by efforts of a severe, harsh, and
terror-inspiring policy, in default of that virtue
•which ought to exist in religion to restrain
citizens.

" Hence the Catholic religion, by the influ
ence of her dogma* over human affairs, relieves
governments from the necessity of being harsh.
In Japan, where the prevailing religion has
no dogmas, and gives no idea of heaven or hell,
laws are made to supply this defect — laws ren
dered useful by the cruelty with -which they
are conceived and the punctuality with which
they are executed. In every society in which
deists, fatalists, and philosophers have promul
gated this error, that our actions are unavoid
able, it is impossible to prevent laws from
becoming more terrible and sanguinary than
any we have known among barbarian nations ;
for in such a society, men, after the manner of
brutes, being urged by palpable motives to do
what they are commanded and omit what they
are forbidden, these motives, with chastise
ments, must be daily more formidable, in order
to avoid losing from habit the power of making
themselves felt. The Christian religion, which
admirably teaches and explains the dogmas of
rational liberty, has no need of an iron rod to
govern mankind. The fear of the pains of
hell, whether eternal, to punish crimes unre-
pented of, or temporal, to wash away the
stains of sins confessed, relieves judges from
the necessity of augmenting punishments. On
the other hand, the hope of gaining heaven,
as a reward for laudable actions, words, and
thoughts, induces men to be just, not only in
public but also in the secrecy of the heart.
What laws or penalties would avail govern
ments not possessed of this dogma of hell and of
glory, to make their citizens men of real merit ?
Materialists, denying the dogma of a future
state, and deists, holding out to the wicked the
flattering security of paradise, place govern
ments under the painful necessity of arming
themselves with all the instruments of terror,
and of always inflicting the most cruel punish
ments, to restrain the people from destroying
one another.

" Protestants have already come to this point
by rejecting the dogma of the eternity of
hell, or, at least, by preserving merely the fear
of a temporary pain. The first reformers, as
d'Alembert observes to the clergy of Gene
ra, denied the doctrine of purgatory, and re
tained that of hell; but the Calvinists, and
modern reformers, ty their limitation of the
duration of hell, leave only what may be pro
pel Ij termed purgatory. Is not the dogma of

the last judgment, when each one's aenrtt of

fences, however small, shall be 9xpo?ad to th«
whole world, of singular efficacy in restraining
the thoughts and desires, and all the perversi
ty of the heart and of the passions ? It is evi
dent that this dogma so far relieves political
governments from the painful and continual
vigilance which it would have to exercise over
a town in which the idea of this judgment hat
perished, together with the thoughts which it
inspires."

\ II.

' There are certain aberrations observable
among philosophers, which lead us to think that
these men were possessed of some true discern
ment in their lucid moments, or whilst they were
in the Catholic religion. Hence they have said,
' that religion was invented for a political pur
pose, to spare sovereigns the necessity of being
just, of making good laws, and of governing
well.' This folly, which stands self-condemn
ed when we come to speak of religion previ
ously fortned, supposes, nevertheless, the truth
we- are speaking of. It is evident to every
one, even to the philosophers whose extrava
gant assertion we have just adduced, that the
Christian religion, by her dogmas, is service
able to human governments, and aids in mak
ing good citizens, even in this world. Yet
they avail themselves of this very point to put
forth their insane malice : but, in reality, and
in spite of themselves, they mean to say, that
the dogmas of religion are of such service to
governments, and so efficacious in facilitating
a great part of their work, that they appear to
be formed on purpose, and according to the
designs of a magistrate or a political govern
ment. We cannot say, on this account, that
religion alone is sufficient to govern men,
without any judicial aid, without the interven
tion of the laws and of penalties. In speak
ing of this efficacy of the dogmas inculcated
by religion, we are not rash and presumptuous;
we do not reject as superfluous the office of law
and police. We are told by the Apostle, that
for the just there would have been no need of
laws ; but there are so many wicked, who,
through their forgetfulness of their destiny
and the terrible judgments of God, live under
the exclusive rule of their passions, that it
has been found necessary to make laws and
institute punishments, in order to restrain
them. Hence, the Catholic religion does not
reject the wise vigilance of police, nor abro
gate its office ; she seconds it, on the contrary,
and receives assistance from it, to the very
great advantage of good governments j the
people, through its influence, are ruled better,
and with less austerity and severity."

§ III.

" The second reason which renders the moat
mild and moderate governments sufficient in
Catholic States is, the assistance which the
grace of the gospel affords for doing good and
avoiding evil, — an assistance imparted by the
use of the sacraments, or other means employ
ed by the Spirit from above. Without this,
every law is harsh ; this unction softens every
yoke, renders every burden light."

In his third article, Father Zeballos repdlathc
accusation of despotism with which the en*.

NOTES.'

469

mle« of monarchy repioach it. fm this occa
sion ho points out the just limits of royal au
thority, and overthrows an argument which
some persons have pretended to found on the
Scriptures, for the exaggeration of the preroga
tives of the throne. He expresses himself as
follows :

"When the objection, that the sovereign had
the power of seizing the property of every
citizen, was made against monarchy, it was
rather an argument against the nature of des-
potisiu than against the form of monarchical
government. ' What does it avail,' says The-
eeus in Euripides, ' to amass riches for our heirs,
to bring up our daughters with care, if we are
to be deprived of the greater portion of these
riches by a tyrant, if our daughters are to
serve the most unruly passions ?' You perceive,
then clearly, that in pretending to argue against
the office of a monarch, it is a tyrant only that
is spoken of. True, the frequent abuse of
power resorted to by kings has caused these
names and forms to be confounded. Others
have already observed that the ancients were
scarcely acquainted with the nature of true
monarchy ; this was very natural, since they
never witnessed any thing but the abuse of it.
This gives me the opportunity of making a
remark upon the circumstance of the Hebrews
asking to be governed by kings. 'Make us a
king to judge us, as all nations have,' said they
to the prophet. Samuel saw with grief this
levity, which was about t6 cause a total revo
lution in the government appointed by God.
Nevertheless, God commands the prophet to
take no notice of this affront, which was prin
cipally offered to the Lord ; for they were
abandoning Him, being unwilling that He
should rule over them any longer. 'As they
have forsaken Me, and served strange gods, so
do they also unto thee,' and ask for kings like
unto those of the nations. Observe what an
intimate connection always exists between a
change of government and a change in religion,
especially when the change is from a true to a
false one.

" But what is particularly deserving of no-
Ace is, the acquiescence granted to the people's
demand. They wish to be ruled by kings, ex
actly as all other nations were. The Lord
chastises their spirit of revolt by leaving them
to their desires. He commands Samuel to
comply with their request, but to point out to
them, at the same time, the rights of the king
who was to rule over them like unto the nations,
and said: 'This will be the right of the king
that shall reign over you : he will take your
eons, and will put them in his chariots, and
will make them his horsemen, and his running
footmen, to run befqre his chariots; and he
will appoint them to be his tribunes, and his
centurions, and to plough his fields, and to reap
his corn, and to make him arms and chariots.
You; daughters also will he take to make him
ointments, and to be his cooks and bakers ; and
he will take your fields, and your vineyards,
and your best olive-yards, and give them to his
servants. Moreover, he will take the tenth of
your corn, and of the revenues of your vine
yards, to give to his eunuchs and servants.
Your servants also, and hand-maids, and your
goodliest young man, and your asses, he will
take away, and put them $o his wo- k. Your
flocks also he will tithe, and you shall be his

2 P

i servants; and you shall crv o it in that day
from the face of the king whom you have
' chosen to yourselves ; and the Lord will not
hear you in that day, because you desired unto
youselves a king. And the people would not
hear the voice of Samuel, and they said, Nay,
but there shall be a king over us, and we also
will be like all nations.' (1st Kings, chap,
viii., from verse 11 to middle of verse 20 in
clusively.)

" Some persons, being determined to extend
1 the power of kings beyond its limits, draw from
: these words the formula of royal right. A
i blind pretension, and reflecting little honor on
legitimate monarchs such as the Catholic sove
reigns. Unless a person wishes knowingly
to deceive himself on this portion of the Scrip
ture, or is blind, he may see by the context,
and by comparing this passage with others,
that it is not legitimate right that is here meant,
I but de facto right. I mean to say, that the
| Holy Spirit does not explain what just mo-
! narchs ouglr to do; but what had been done,
f and was still done, by the kings of Pagan na-
! tions, mere tyrants, and commonly so called.
Observe, that the people demanded nothing
but to be placed on an equality with the Pa
gan nations in a political point of view. They
had not the prudence to demand a king such
as he ought to be, but such as was common in
j those days ; and this was what God granted
| them.. If God, as the prophet observes, hag
sometimes given the people kings in His wrath,
what people were more deserving of this than
those who had abandoned God himself, and
refused to be ruled by Him? Indeed, God did
chastise His people severely by granting them
their foolish demand. He did give them a king,
but a king who was to exercise what, according
to the perverse custom of the times, formed the
royal right described in the sacred text just
quoted.

" What man in our days, conversant with
what has been written upon the different na
tures of governments, upon their abuse, and
without even understanding what is said in the
Scriptures, could imagine that the text of
Samuel contains the legitimate form of royalty
or of monarchy ? Does this power impart the
right of seizing the property of the subjects,
their lands, their riches, their sons and daugh
ters, and even their natural liberty ? Is this
the model of a monarchy, or of the most ty
rannical despotism? To dispel every illusion
on this point, we need only compare with what
we have just read the 21st chap, of the third
Book of Kings, in which the history of Na-
both, an inhabitant of Jezrael, is narrated.
Achab, the king of Israel, wished to enlarge
the palace, or pleasure-house wiich he pos
sessed in that town. A vineyard of Naboth's,
near the palace, came within the plan of the
gardens that were to be added. The king did
not seize it at once, of his own authority, but
asked the proprietor to let him have it on the
honest condition of paying him the price at
which he should value it, or giving him a better
in another place. Naboth would not consent
to this, because it was the inheritance of hi*
ancestors. The king, not being accustomed
to meet with a refusal, threw himself upon hit
couch oppressed with grief; the queen, Jezabel,
came, and told him to calm his agitation : * Thy
authority is great indeed,' said she to him;

470

NOTES.

Grandi* authoritatit es .• she promises to put
him in possession of the vineyard. This
abominable woman wrote to the judges of
Jezrael to commence an action against Naboth
for a calumny, to be proved against him by
two suborned witnesses; and she demanded
that he should be condemned to death. The
queen was obeyed; Naboth was stoned to
death. All this was necessary that the vine
yard might enter into the royal treasury, and
hat, watered by the blood of the proprietor,
t might produce flowers for the palace of these
princes. But, in reality, it produced none,
neither for the king nor for the queen ; it fur
nished them with nothing but briars and mortal
poisons. Elias presents himself before Achab
when he was going to take possession of Na-
both's vineyard ; he announces to him that he,
and all his house, even to the dog that ap-
proacheth the wall, shall be erased from the
face of the earth.

" You look upon royal right as explained to
the people by Samuel as legitimate ; tell me,
then why Achab and Jezabel are so severely
punished for taking the vineyard and the life
of Naboth, since the king had a right to take
from his subjects their most valuable vineyards
and olive trees, according to the declaration of
the prophet. If Achab possesses this right
after he is established the king of the people
of God, whence comes it that he, so violent a
prince, should entreat Naboth with so much
civility? And why is it necessary to accuse
Naboth of some calumny? His resistance to
the king's right, by refusing to accept the just
value of what was suitable to the enlargement
of the palace and gardens, would have been
a sufficient motive for instituting an action
against him. We find, however, that Naboth
committed no injustice against the king by
refusing to sell his patrimony, not even in the
estimation of the queen, who boasted of her
husband's great authority. This great author
ity, which Jezabel admitted in the king, was
neither more nor less than the royal right
spoken of by Samuel to the people ; it was, as
I have said, a de facto right to take and seize
upon every thing by mere force, as Montes
quieu says of the tyrant.

"Do not therefore, mention this passage, nor
any other of the Scriptures, to justify the idea
of a government so ill-conceived. The doctrine
of the Catholic religion is attached to legitimate
monarchy, with its suitable characteristics, and
in accordance with the qualities which modern
publicists recognise, viz. as a paternal and sove
reign power, but conformable to the fundamental
laws of the state. Within limits so suitable,
nothing can be more regular than this power,
the most extensive of all temporal powers, and
that tchich is most favored and supported by the
Catholic Church."

Such is the horrible despotism taught by
these men so basely calumniated ! Happy the
people who are ruled by a prince whose go
vernment is regulated by these doctrines !

NOTE 31, p. 330.

The importance of the matter treated of in
ibis part of my work obliges me to insert here,
\t some length, passages proving the truth of
• hit I have advanced. I did iot think it

advisable to give a translation of the Latir

passages, that I might avoid augmenting ex
cessively the number of pages ; besides, among
the persons who may wish tc make themselves
thoroughly acquainted with the subject, and
who will consequently take an interest in con
sulting the original texts, there are few ignor
ant of the Latin language.

Observe how St. Thomas expresses himself
on royal power, and with what solid and geu-
erous doctrine he points out its duties in the
third book, chap. 11, of his treatise De Regi-
mine Principum.

DIVUS THOMAS.
"Dc Regimine Principum, liber iii. caput XL

" Hie Sanctus Doctor declarat de dominio
regali, in quo consistit, et in quo differt a po
litico, et quo modo distinguitur diversimodo
secundum diversas rationes.

"Nunc autem ad regale dominium est pro-
cedendum, ubi est distinguendum de ipso se
cundum diversas regiones, et prout a diversia
varie invenitur traditum. Et primo quidem,
in Sacra Scriptura aliter leges regalis dominii
traduntur in Deuteronomio per Moysen, aliter
\n 1 Regum per Samuelem prophetam, uterque
tamen in persona Dei differenter ordinat regem
ad utilitatem subditorum, quod est proprium
regum, ut Philosophus tradit in 8 ethic. Cum,
inquit, constitutus fuerit rex, non multiplicabit
sibi equos, nee reducet populum in ^Egyptum,
equitatus nurnero sublevatus, non habebit ux-
ores plurimas, quae alliciant aniinam ejus,
neque argenti, aut auri immensa pondera:
quod quidem qualiter habet intelligi, supra
traditur in hoc lib. describetque sibi Deuter-
onomium legis hujus, et habebit secum, leget-
que illud omnibus diebus vitae suae, ut discat
timere dominum Deum suum, et custodire
verba ejus et cseremonias, et ut videlicet possit
populum dirigere secundum legem divinam,
unde et rex Salomon in principio sui regiminia
hanc sapientiam a Deo petivit, ad directionem
sui regiminis pro utilitate subditorum, sicut
scribitur in 3 lib. Regum. Subdit vero dictua
Moyses in eodem lib. Nee elevetur cor ejus in
superfluum super fratres suos, neque declinet
in partem dexteram, vel sinistram, ut longo
tempore regat ipse et filius ejus super Israel.
Sed in primo Regum, traduntur leges regni,
magis ad utilitatem Regis, ut supra patuit in
lib. 2 hujus operis, ubi ponuntur verba omnino
pertinentia ad conditionern servilem, et tamen
Samuel leges quas tradit cum sint penitus de-
spoticae dicit esse regales. Philosophus autem
in 8 ethic, magis concordat cum primis legibua.
Tria enim ponit de rege in eo. 4, videlicet,
quod ille legitimus est rex qui principaliter
bonum subditorum intendit. Item, ille rex est,
qui curam subditorum habet, ut bene operentur
quemadmodum pastor ovium. Ex quibus om
nibus manifestum est, quod juxta istum, mo-
dum despoticum multum differat a regali, ut
idem Philosophus videtur dicere in 1 politic.
Item, quod regnum non est propter regem, sed
rex propter regnum, quia ad hoc Deus providit
de eis, ut regnum regant et gubernent, et unum-
quemque in suo jure conservent : et hie estjinit
regiminis, quod si ad aliud faciunt in seiptot
commodum r*io~quendo, non sunt reges sed ty-
ranni. Contr- quos dirii Dnminus in Ezech,

NOTES.

471

V«B paftoribus Israel, qui p.iscunt semetipsos.
Nonne greges nascuntur a pastoribus ? Lac
fcomedebatis, et lanis operiebamini, et quod
orassum erat occidebatis : gregem autem meum
non pascebatis : quod infirmum fuit, non con-
eolidastis, et quod aegrotuni non sanastis, quod
confractum non alligasti.s, quod abjectum non
jeduxistis, et quod perierat non quaesistis ;
eed cum austeritate imperabatis eis et cum po-
tentia. In quibus verbis nobis sufficienter
forma regiininis traditur redarguendo contra-
rium. Atnplius autem regnum ex hominibus
constituitur, sicut domus ex parietibus, et
corpus humanuiu ex membris, ut Philos. dicit in
3 politic. Finis ergo regie est, ut regimen proa-
peretur, quod homines conaerventur per regent.
Et hinc habet commune bonum cujuslibet
principatus participationem divinae bonitatis :
undo bonum commune dicitur a Philosopho in
1 ethic, esse quod omnia appetunt, et esse
bonum divinum, ut sicut Dens qui eat rex re-
gum, et dominiia dontinantiuni, cujus virtute
principea imperant, ut probatum eat supra, noa
regit et gubernat non propter aeipsum, sed prop-
ter noatram salutem : ita et reges faciant et alii
dominatorea in orbe."

NOTE 32, p. 336.

I have noticed the opinion of D. Felix Amat,
Archbishop of Palmyra, with respect to the
obedience due to fie facto governments. I have
remarked, that this writer's principles, besides
being false, are opposed to the rights of the
poople. The Archbishop of Palmyra appears
to have been at a loss to discover a maxim to
which it is possible to conform under all cir
cumstances that may occur, and which do oc
cur but too often. He dreaded the obscurity
and confusion of ideas when the legitimacy of
a given case was to be denned ; he wished to
remedy an evil, but he appears to have aggra
vated it to an extraordinary degree. Observe
how he sets forth his opinion in his work en
titled Idea of the Church Militant, chap. iii.
art. 2 :

"The more I reflect," says he, "on the diffi
culties I have just pointed out, the more I am
convinced that it is impossible to resolve them,
even those which are ancient, with any degree
of certainty ; and it is equally impossible to
derive any light from them to aid us in resolv
ing those which are formed at the present day ,
by the struggle between the prevailing spirit '
of insubordination in opposition to the judg
ment and will of the governor, and the con
trary effort made to limit more and more the
liberty of those who obey. Starting from the
divers points and notions that I have laid down
relative to the supreme power in all really civil
societies, it appears to me, that, instead of los
ing time in mere speculative discussions, it will
be more useful to propose a practical, just, and
opoortune maxim for the preservation of pub
lic tranquillity, especially in Christian king
doms and states, and for affording the means
of re-establishing it when it has bt«n troubled
or destroyed.

" The Maxim. — No one can doubt the legiti
macy of the obligation of every member of any
civil society whatever to obey the government
which is de facto and unquestionably estab
lished. I say ' unquestionably tatablished,' be

cause there is here no questior of a mere inva4
sion or temporary occupation m time of war
From this maxim fellow two consequences
1st, to take part in insurrections, or assem-.
blages of people, addressing themselves to th«
constituted authorities with a view to compel
them to grant what they consider unjust, is
always an act contrary to right reason ; always
unlawful, condemned by the natural law and
by the Gospel. 2dly, individual members of
society, who combine together and take up
arms, in small or large numbers, for the pur
pose of attacking the established government
by physical force, are always guilty of rebel
lion, a crime strongly opposed to the spirit of
our divine religion."

I will not here repeat what I have already
said on the unsoundness, the inconveniences,
and the dangers of such a doctrine, but merely
add, that with respect to governments onlj
established de facto, to grant them the right of
commanding and exacting obedience involves
a contradiction. To say that a de facto go
vernment is bound, whilst it does exist, to pro
tect justice, to avoid crimes, to prevent the
dissolution of society, is merely to maintain
truths universally admitted, and denied by no
one; but to-add, that it is unlawful, and con
trary to our holy religion, to combine together
and raise forces for the overthrow of a defactc
government, is a doctrine which Catholic theo
logians have never professed, which true phi
losophy has never admitted, and which no na
tion has ever observed.

NOTE 33, p. 343.

I insert here certain remarkable passages from
St. Thomas and Suarez, in which these author!
explain the opinions to which I have alluded
in the text, respecting the differences which
may arise between governors and the governed.
I refer to what I have already pointed out in
another place ; we are not about to examine so
much whether such or such doctrines are true,
as to discover what were the doctrines at the
time we are speaking of, and what opinion
the most distinguished doctors formed on the
delicate questions of which we are treating.

(2. 2. Q. 42. art. 2° ad tertium.— Utrum seditio sit
semper pecatum mortale ?)

3. Arg. Laudantur qui multitudinem a potes-
tate tyrannica liberant, sed hoc non de facili
potest fieri sine aliqua dissensione multitudinis,
dum una pars multitudinis nititur retineit
tyrannum, alia vero nititur eum abjicere, ergo
seditio potest fieri sine peccato.

Ad tertium dicendum; quod regimen tjran-
nicum non est justum quia non ordinatur ad
bonum commune, sed ad bonum privatum
regentis ut patet per Philosophum ; et ideo
perturbatio hujus regiminis non habet rationem
seditionis, nisi forte quando sic inordinate per-
turbatur tyranni regimen, quod multitude sub-
jecta majus detrimentum patitur ex pertur-
batione consequent! quam ex tyranni regimine
magis autem tyrannus seditiosus est, qui in
populo sibi subjecto discordias et seditione*
nutrit, ut tutius dominari possit; hoc eninn
tyrannicum est, cum sit ordinatum ad bonuai

472

NOTES.

proprtam praesidentis cum mnltitndinis nocn-
mento.

Cardinalis Cayetanus in huno textum. " Quis
eit autem modus ordinatus perturbandi tyran-
num et qualem tyrannum, puta secundum re
gimen tantum, vel secundum regimen et
titulum, non est praesentis intentionis : sat est
mine, quod utrumque tyrannum licet ordinate
pcrturbare absque seditione quandoque ; ilium
at bono reipublics9 vacet, istum ut expella-
tur."

De Regimine Principum. (Cap. x.)

Quod rex et princeps studere debet ad bonum regi
men propter bonum sui ipsius, et utile quod inde
sequitur, cujus contrarium sequitur regimen
tyrannicum.

Tyrannorum vero dominium diuturnum esse
non potest, cum sit multitudini odiosum. Non
potest enim diu conservari,quod votis multorum
repugnat. Vix enim a quoquam prsesens vita
transigitur quin aiiquas adversitates patiatur.
Adversitatis autem tempore occasio deesse non
potest contra tyrannum insurgendi ; et ubi
adsit occasio, non deerit ex multis vel unus qui
occasione non utatur. Insurgentem autem po-
pulus votive prosequitur : nee de facili carebit
' effectu, quod cum favore multitudinis attenta-
tur. Vix ergo potest contingere, quod tyranni
dominium protendatur in longum. Hoc etiam
manifeste patet, si quis consideret unde tyranni
dominium conservatur. Non n. conservatur
amore, cum parva, vel nulla sit amicitia sub-
jectae multitudinis ad tyrannum ut ex praeha-
bitis patet : de subditorum autem fide tyrannis
confideudum non est. Non n. invenitur tanta
virtus in inultis, ut fidelitatis virtute repriman-
tur, ne indebitae servitutis jugum, si possint,
excutiant. Fortassis autem nee fidelitati con
trarium reputabitur secundum opinionem mul
torum, si tyrannicae nequitiae qualitercumque
obvietur. Restat ergo ut solo timore tyranni
regimen sustentetur ; unde et timeri se a
eubditis tota intentione procurant. Timor
autem est debile fundamentum. Nam qui
'irnore subduntur, si occurrat occasio qua pos-
jint impunitatein sperare, contra prsesidentes
aisurgunt eo ardentius, quo magis contra vo-
tuntatem ex solo timore cohibebantur. Sicut
si aqua per violentiam includatur, cum aditum
invenerit, impetuosius fluit. Sed nee ipse timor
earet periculo, cum ex nimio timore plerique in
desperationem inciderint. Salutis autem des-
peratio audacter ad quaelibet attentanda praa-
aipitat. Non potest igitur tyranni dominium
esse diuturnum. Hec etiam nou minus
exemplis, quam rationibus apparetl

LIB. I. CAP. VI.

Conclusio ; quod regimen unius simpliciter sit opti
mum ; ostendit qualite^ multitude se debet babere
circa ipsum, quia auferenda est oi occasio ne tyran-
nizet, ei quod etiam in hoc est t tlerandus propter
majus malum vitandum.

Quia ergo unius regimen prs9 eligendum est,
quod est optimum, et contingit ipsum in tyran-
uidem converti, quod est pessirnurn, ut ex dictis
patet, laborandum est diligenti studio, ut sic
multitudini provideatur de rege, ut non incidat
in tyrannum. Prhnum autem est necessarium,
at talis ooaditionis homo ab illia ad Q.UOS hoc

spectat officium, promoveatur in regent, quoj
non sit probabile in tyrannidem declinare.
Unde Samuel Dei providentiani erga institu-
tionem regis commendans, ait, 1 Begum xiii. :
Quaesivit sibi Dominus, virum secundum cor
suurn: deinde sic disponenda est regni guber-
natio, ut regi jam instituto tyrannidis subtra-
hatur occasio. Simul etiam sic ejus temperetur
potestas, ut in tyrannidem de facili declinare
non possit. Quaa quidem ut fiant, insequenti-
bus considerandum erit. Demum vero curau-
dum est, si rex in tyrannidem divert«rot,
qualiter posset occuri. Et quidem si non fuerit
excessus tyrannidis, utilius est remissam tyran
nidem tolerare ad tempus, quam tyrannum
agendo multis implicari periculis, quaa sunt
graviora ipsa tyrannide. Potest, n. contingere
ut qui contra tyrannum agunt praevalere non
possint, et sic provocatus lyrannus magis de-
saeviat. Quod si praevalere quis possit adver-
sus tyrannum, ex hoc ipso proveniunt multotiea
gravissimifi dissensiones in pupulo, sive dum
in tyrannum insurgitur, sive post dejectionem
tyranni erga ordinationem regiminis multitudo
separatur in partes. Contingit etiam ut inter
dum dum alicujus auxilio multitudo expellit
tyrannum, ille potestate accepta tyrannidem
arripiat, et tiinens pati ab alio quod ipse in
alium fecit, graviori servitute subditos oppri-
mat. Sic enim in tyrannide solet contingere,
ut posterior gravior fiat quam praecedens, dum
praecedentia gravamina non deserit, et ipse ex
sui cordis rnalitia nova excogitat : undo Syra-
cusis quondam Dyonisii mortem omnibus desi-
derantibus, anus qusedem ut incolumnis et sibi
superstes esset, continue orabat : quod ut
tyrannus cognovit, cur hoc faceret interrogavit.
Turn ilia, puella, inquit, existens cum gravein
tyrannum haberemus, mortem ejus cupiebam,
quo interfecto, aliquantulum durior successitj
ejus quoque dominationem finiri magnum exis-
tiinabam, tertium te iinportuniorem habere
coepimus rectorem; itaquesi tu fueris absump-
tus, deterior in locum tuum succedet. Et s!
sit intolerabilis excessus tyrannidis, quibusdanc
visum fuit, ut ad fortium virorum virtutem per-
tineat tyrannum interimere, seque pro libera-
tione multitudinis exponere periculis mortis :
cujus rei exemplum etiam in veteri Testamento
habetur. Nam Ajoth quidam Eglon regem
Moab, qui gravi servitute populum Dei preine-
bat, sica infixa in ejus femore iuteremit. et
factus est populi judex. Sed hoc Apostolicaa
doctrinaB non congruit. Docet n. nos Petrua,
non bonis tantum etinodestis, verum etiam dis-
colis Dominis reverenter subditos esse. 2 Petr.
ii. Haec est enim gratia, si propter conscien-
tiam Dei sustineat quis tristitias patiens in-
juste : unde cum inulti Romani Imperatores
fidem Christi persequerentur tyrannice, mag-
naque multitudo tarn nobiliurn, quam populi
esset ad fidem conversa, non resistendo, sed
mortem patienter et armati sustinentes pro
Christo laudantur, ut in sacra Thebaeorum le-
gione manifeste apparet ; magisque Ajoth judi-
candus est hostem interemisse, quam populi
rectorem, licet tyrannum; unde et in veteri
Testamento leguntur occisi fuisse hi qui occi-
derunt Joas regem Juda, qua in vis a cultu Dei
recedentem, eorumque nliis reservatis secun
dum legis praeceptum. Easet autem hoc mul
titudini periculosum et jjus rectoribus, si
privata praesumptione aliqui attentarent prwsi-

NOTES.

473

dentinm necem etiam tyrannornm. Plemmqne
enim hujusmodi periculis magis exponunt se
tnali quam boni. Malis autem solet esse grave
dominium non minus regum quam tyrannorum,
quiasecundum sententiam Salomonis: Dissipat
impios rex sapiens. Magis igitur ex hujus
praesumptione immincret periculuai multitu-
dini de amissione regis, quam remedium de
subtractione tyranni. Videtur autem magis
contra tyrannorum ,-aevitiam non privata prae
sumptione aliquoruin, sed auctoritate publica
procedendmn. Primo quidem, si ad jus multi-
tudinis alicujus pertineat sibi providere de
rege, non injuste ab eadem rex institutus potest
dostitui, vel refrajnari ejus potestas, si potes-
tate regia tyrannice abutatur. Nee putanda
est talis multitude infideliter agere tyrannum
destituens, etiamsi eidern in perpetuo se ante
subjecerat: quia hoc ipse meruit in multitudi-
nis regimine se non fideliter gerens, ut exigit
regis officium. quod ei pactum a subditis non
reservetur. Sic Ilomani Tarquinium superbum
quern in regem susceperant, propter ejus et
filiorum tyrannidem a regno ejecerunt substi-
tuta minori, scilicet consularia potestate. Sic
etiara Domitianus, qui modestissimis Impera-
toribus Vespasiano patri, et Tito fratri ejus
successerat, dum tyrannidem exercet, a senatu
Romano interemptus est, omnibus quas perverse
Romanis fecerat per Senatusconsultum juste et
salubriter in irrituin revocatis. Quo factum
est. ut beatus Joannes Evangelista dilectus Dei
discipulus. qui per ipsum Domitianum in Path-
tnos insulam fuerat exilio relegatus, ad Ephe-
sum per Senatusconsultum remitteretur. Si
verc ad jus alicujus superioris pertineat multi-
tudini providere de rege, spectandum est ab eo
remedium contra tyranni nequitiam. Sic
Archelai, qui in Judaea pro Herode patre suo
regnare jam coeperat, paternam malitiam imi-
tantis, Judasis contra eum querimoniam ad
Cesarem Augustum deferentibus, primo qui
dem potestas diminuitur, ablato sibi regio no
mine, et inedietate regni sui inter duos fratres
BUGS divisa: deinde cum nee sic a tyrannide
compesceretur a Tiberio Cesare relegatus est
in exilium apud Lugdunum GalliaB civitatein.
Quod si oinnino contra tyrannum auxilium hu-
manum haberi non potest, recurrendum est ad
regem omnium Deum, quid est adjutor in op-
portunitatibus in tribulatione. Ejus enim po-
tentiae subest, ut cor tyranni crudele convertat
in mansuetudiriem, secundum Salomonis sen-
tentiam. Proverb, xii. Cor regis in manu Dei
quocumque voluerit inclinavit illud. Ipse enim
regis Assueri crudelitateui, qui Judaeis mortem
parabat, in mansuetudinem vertit. Ipse est qui
ita Nabuchodonosor, crudelem regem convertit,
quod factus est divinae potentia) praedicator.
Nunc igitur, inquit, ego Nabuchodonosor laudo,
et inagnifico, et glof ifico regem cceli, quia opera
ejus vera et vise ejus judicia, et gradientes in
euperbia potest humiliare. Dan. iv. Tyrannos
vero quos reputat conversione indignos, potest
auferre de medio vel ad infimum statum redu-
cere, secundum illud Sapientes Eccles. x. Se-
Jern ducum superborum destruxit Deus, et se-
dere fecit mites pro eis. Ipse enim qui videns
afflietionem populi sui in ^Egypto, et audiens
eorum clatnorem Pharaonem tyrannum dejecit
cum exercitu suo in mare j ipse est qui inemo-
ratum Nabuchodonosor prius superbientem non
iolum ejectura de regni solio, sed etiara de ho-
60 2

minum consortio, h. st rrilitudinem be stias com
mutavit. Nee enim abreviata in anus ejus est,
ut populum suum a tyranuis liberare non possit.
Promittit enim populo suo per Isaiain, requiem
se daturum a labore et confusione, ac servitut«
dura, qua ante servierat, et per Ezech. xxxir.
dicit : Liberabo meum gregem de ore eoruna
pastorum, qui pascunt seipsos. Sed ud hoc
beneficium populus a Deo consequi mereatur,
debet a peccatis cessare, quia in ultionem peo-
cati divina perrnissione impii accipiunt princi-
j patum, dicente Domino per Osee xiii. : Dabe
| tibi regem in furore meo, et in Job. xxxiv. di-
| citur, quod regnare facit houiinem hypocritam
propter peccata populi. Tollenda est igitur
culpa, ut cesset a tyrannorum plaga.

(Disp. 13. De Bello. sect. 8.— Utrum seditio sit
I intrinsece mala?)

! Seditio dicitur bellum commune intra eam-
j dem Rempublicam, quod geri potest, vel inter
j duas partes ejus, vel inter Principem et Rem-
1 publicam. Dico primo : Seditio inter duas par
tes Reipublicao semper est mala ex parte ag-
gressoris : ex parte vero del'endentis se justa
est. Hoc socunduin per se est notuin. Pri-
mum ostenditur : quia nulla cernitur ibi legitima
| auctoritas ad indicendum bellum ; haec enim
residet in supremo Principe, ut vidimus sect.
2. Dices, interdum poterit Princeps earn aucto-
' ritatem concedere, si magna necessitas publica
urgeat. At tune jam non censetur aggredi
j pars Reipublicse, sed Princeps ipse ; sicque
j nulla erit seditio de qua loquimur. Sed, quid
' si ilia Reipublicac pars sit vere offensa ab alia
neque possit per Principem jus suum obtinere?
Respondeo, non posse plus efficere, quam pos
sit persona privata, ut ex superioribus constare
facile potest.

Dico secundo : Bellum Reipublicae contra
Principem, etiamsi aggressivum, non est in
trinsece malum : habere tanien debet condi-
tiones justi alias belli, ut honestetur. Con-
clusio solum habet locum, quando Princeps est
tyrannus ; quod duobus modis contingit, ut
Cajet. not. 2. 2. q. 64 articulo primo ad tertium
primo si tyrannus sit quoad dominium, et po
testatem : secundo solum quoad regimen
Quando priori rnodo accidit tyrannus, tota
Respublica, et quodlibet ejus niembrum jus
habet contra ilium ; unde quilibet potest se ao
' Rempublicara a tyrannide vindicare. Ratio
, est ; quia tyrannus ille aggressor est, et inique
bellum movet contra Rempublicam, et singula
membra; unde omnibus competit jus delensio-
nis. Ita Cajetanus eo loco, sumique potest f-x
D. Thorn, in secundo, distinctione 44, quaestione
secunda, articulo secundo. De posteriori
tyranno idem docuit Joann. Hus, imo de omni
iniquo superiore ; quod damnatum est in Conci-
lio Constant. Sessione 8 et 15. Unde certa veri-
tas est, contra hujusmodi tyrannum nullam pri-
vatam person am, aut potestatcm iniperi'ectam
posse juste movere bellum aggressivum, atque
illud esset propie seditio. Probatur, quoniam
ille, ut supponitur, verus est Dominus : ini'e-
riores autem jus non habent indicendi bellum,
sed defendendi se tantum : quod non habet lo
cum in hoc tyranno : namque ille non semper
singulis facit injuriam, atque si invaderent, id
solura possent efficere, quod ad suam defen-

174

NOTES.

gionom sufficeret. At vero tota Respublica
posset bello insnrgere contra ejasmodi tyran-
num, neque tune excitaretur propia seditio (hoc
siquidem nomen in malam partem sumi con-
euevit). Ratio est : quia tune tota Respublica
superior est Rege : man, cum ipsa dederit illi
potestatem, ea conditione dedisse censetur, ut
politico, non tyrannic* regeret, alias ab ipsa
posset deponi. Esttamen observandum, ut ille
Tere, et manifesto tyrannice agat ; concurrant-
que aliue conditiones ad honestateui belli posi-
tas. Lege Divum Thomum 1 de regimine
Principum, cap. 6.

Dico tertio : Bellum Reipublicae contra Re-
gein neutro modo tyrannutn, est propiissime
seditio, et intrinsece malutn. Est certa, et inde
constat : quia deest tune et causa justa, et po-
testas. Ex quo etiam e contrario constat, bel-
lum Principis contra Reuipublicam sibi subdi-
tam, ex parte potestatis posse esse justum, si
adsint alise conditiones ; si vero desint, injus-
tum omnino esse.*

Listen to the language of P. Marquez in
Spain, in the so-called despotic times : it is well
known that his work intituled El Gobernador
Gristiano was not one of those obscure books
which are never widely circulated ; it met
with such success that it went through several
editions, as well in Spain as in foreign coun
tries. I will give the title at length, and I will
add, at the same time, a note of the editions
published at different epochs, in different coun
tries, in different languages, — a note which is
to be found in the edition of Madrid in 1773.

"The Christian Magistrate (El Gobernador
Cn'fth'fiiio), according to the Life of Moses, the
Ruler of the People of God, by the R. P. M.
J. R. John Marquez, 0. S. A., preacher to his
Majesty King Philip III., Examiner of the
Holy Office of the Inquisition, and Evening
Professor of Theology at the University of
Salamanca. New and sixth edition, with per
mission. Madrid, 1773."

"The Christian Magistrate, composed at the
request and in honor of His Excellency the
Duke of Feria, first published at Salamanca,
in the year 1612,- a second edition in the same
tftwn in 1619 ; a third edition at Alcala in 1634,
and a fourth at Madrid in 1640-, the fifth edi
tion was published out of Spain, at Brussels,
in 1664. This is the masterpiece among works
of this nature which have been written among us.

"Father Martin of St. Bernard, of the Order
of Citeaux, translated this work into Italian,
and had it printed at Naples, in 1646. It was
also translated into French by M. de Virion,
counsellor to the Duke of Lorraine, and it was
printed at Nancy in 1621."

BOOK i. CHAP. 8.

"We have now to answer the contrary ob
jections. We maintain that neither the di
vide nor the natural law has given to states
the power of arresting the progress of tyranny
»»y means so violent as that of shedding fche
olood of princes, they being the vicars of God,
divinely invested with the right of life and
death over other men. But so far as resisting
their cruelty is concerned, it is incontestable

* An extract from Dollar mi ue de Romano Pont.
V> here omitted.

that it may and ought to be done. They arc
not to be obeyed in any thing opposed to th«
law of God ; we must, therefore, escape from
their wicked commands, and prevent their
blows, as Jonathan did with regard to Saul,
his father, when he saw him take his spear to
smite David, and when, rising from the table,
he went in search of the latter, and warned
him of his danger. It is also sometimes allow
able to resist princes by force of arms, in order
to prevent them from executing notoriously
rash and cruel determinations ; for, according
to the words of St. Thomas, this is not to ex
cite sedition, but to stop and prevent it. Ter-
tullian affirms the same thing when he says:
'Illis nomen factionis accommodandum est,
qui in odium bonoruin et proborum conspirant,
cum boui, cum pii congregantur, non est factio
dicenda, sed curia.'

" This is the reason why the blessed St. Her-
menegildus, a glorious Spanish martyr, took
up arms and entered the field against King
Leovigildus, an Arian, to resist the great per
secution directed by this prince against the
Catholics. This fact is related by the contem
porary historians. True, St. Gregory of Tours
condemns this act of our king-martyr, not for
having resisted his sovereign, but because the
former was both his king and his father : and
he maintains that although he was a heretic,
his son ought not to have resisted him. This
reply, however, is not well founded, as Baro-
nius observes. Moreover, the authority of this
Gregory was combated by another Gregory,
greater than he, St. Gregory the Great, who,
in the preface to hi? book of Morales, approves
of the embassy of Leander, sent to Constanti
nople by St. Hermenegildus, to solicit the aid
of Tiberius against Leovigildus, his father. It
is indubitable that however strong may be the
obligation of filial piety, that of religion is
still stronger. The latter obliges us to sacri
fice every thing if it be necessary ; and it is
on account of cases of this nature, that it is
written of the tribe of Levi : •' Qui dixerunt
patri suo et matri suse, necio vos, et fratribus
suis ignoro vos, nescierunt filios suos.' Such
was the conduct of the Levites when they took
up arms, by the command of Moses, to punish
their relations for the sin of idolatry.

"If the prince should go so far as personally
to make an attempt upon the life of the subject
who has no other means of defending himself
than killing him, — as when Nero, parading the
streets of Rome, followed by a troop of armed
men, attacked the quiet and unsuspecting citi
zens ; I say, that in such a case it would be al
lowable to kill him : for if it is true, as Fr.
Dominic de Soto observes, that the subject in
this extremity is to suffer himself to be killed,
and so prefer the monarch's life to his own, it
is solely in the case when the death of the
monarch would give rise to great troubles and
civil wars in the state ; in any other case it
would be monstrously inhuman to force men to
a thing so insupportable. But when the sub
ject's property is merely to be defended against
the cupidity of the monarch, it should not ba
allowable to lay hands on him ; for it is a pri
vilege granted to princes by divine and human
laws, that their blood shall not De spilt for any
outrage which, committed by any other viola
tor of private property, would be a sufficient

NOTES.

476

motire for taking away his life. The reason
of this is, that the life of the king is the soul
and bond of the state ; that it is of more im
portance than the property of individuals ;
that it is better to tolerate grievances of this
nature, than to destroy the head of the state."

I^OTE 34, p. 348.

In order to give an idea of the means em
ployed at this epoch to limit the power of the
monarch, by forming associations, whether
among the people themselves, or between the
people, the grandees, and the clergy, I insert
here the letter, or Charter of Fraternity (Her
mandad), which the kingdoms of Leon and
Galicia made with Castile. I have extracted
this piece literally from the collection intituled
Bullnrinm ordfnis militia1 nanti Jacobi Glorio-
gissimi Hispaniarum patroni, p. 223. It will
prove to us the existence already, at a remote
epoch of our history, of a lively instinct for
liberty, although ideas were still limited to a
secondary order.

' " 1. In the name of God and of the blessed
Virgin. Amen.

" Be it known to all those who shall read
this letter, that on account of the innumerable
acts of injustice, injuries, deeds of violence,
murders, imprisonments, insolent refusals of
audience, opprobriums, and other outrages
without measure, committed against us by the
king D. Alphonso, to the contempt of God, of
justice, of right, and to the great detriment
of all these kingdoms; we, the infantes, the
prelates, the rich men, the councils, the orders,
the knights of the kingdoms of Leon and Ga
licia, seeing ourselves overwhelmed with in
justice and ill-treatment, as we have stated
above, and finding it insupportable ; our lord
the infante Don Sancho has thought good and
appointed that we should be of one mind and
of one heart, he with us and we with him, to
maintain our laws, our privileges, and our
charters, in our usages, our manners, our liber
ties, and franchises, which we enjoyed under
king Don Alphonso, his great-grandfather, the
conqueror at the battle of Merida, and under
king Don Ferdinand, his grand-father ; under
the emperor and all the other kings of Spain,
their predecessors; and under the king Don
A.lphonso, his father, — all princes who have
best merited our gratitude ; and our said lord
the infante Don Sancho has bound us to this ef
fect by oath and promise, as it is certain by let
ters between him and us. Considering that it is
agreeable to the service of God, of the blessed
Virgin, of the court of Heaven, to the defence
and honor of thf holy Church, of the infante
Don Sancho, and of the kings who shall suc
ceed him, in fine*, to the advantage of the
whole country, we ordain and establish frater
nity (fiermandad), now and for ever, we the
whole of the kingdoms above named, with the
councils of the kingdom of Castile, with the
infantes, the rich men, the hidalgos, the prelates,
the orders, the knights, and all others who are
in this kingdom, and who are willing to be
with us, as it has just been said.

"2. Be it known to them, that we will insure
'o our lord the infante Don Sancho, and to all
other kings who shall succeed him, all their
right?, all their suzerainty, wholly and entirely,

as we have promised, and as tfcey are contain
ed in the privilege which he has given us to
this effect. Justice shall continue to bo de
creed by the suzerainty. The Martiniega*
shall be paid in the place and in the manner
in which it was customary to pay it, according
to right, to Don Alphonso, the conqueror at
the battle of Merida. The money f shall be
paid at the end of seven years in the usual
place and manner, flie kings not enjoining the
coining of money. The repast (y an tar) J shall
be taken in the place in which it was usual fcr
the kings to take it, according to the fuero
once a year, while visiting the very place, as
it was given to the king Don Alphouso, his
great-grandfather, and to the king Don Ferdi
nand, his grandfather. The / 'on sad era, % when
the king is with the army, in the customary
place, according to the fucro and right in the
days of the abovenamed kings, guaranteeing
to each the privileges, charters, liberties, and
franchises appertaining to us.

"3. Be it known to them moreover, that we
will maintain all our rights, usages, customs,
privileges, charters, all our liberties and fran
chises, always and in such a manner, that should
the king, the infante Don Sancho, or the kings
who shall succeed them, or any of the lords,
alcades, merinos, or any other persons, attempt
to infringe upon them, in whole or in part, in
any way or at any time, we will unite into one
entire whole, and inform the king, the infante
Don Sancho, or those who shall succeed them,
of the nature of our complaint, and ask them
if they are willing to reform ; and if not, we
will unite into one entire body to defend and
protect ourselves, as it is ordained in the
charter granted us by the infante Don Sancho.

"4. Moreover, be it known to them that no
member of this hcrmandad shall be chastised,
and nothing shall be taken from him contrary
to right and the custom of the place, in the
councils of the said hermandad ; and it shall
not be allowable to take from him more than
is demanded by the fuero, in the place in which
ho shall be.

" 5. We protest, that if an alcade, a merino,
or any other person, on the authority of a letter
of the king, of the infante Don Sancho, by his
command, or that of the kings who shall suc
ceed him, shall kill a man of our hermandad
without hearing him and judging him accord
ing to law, that we, the hermandad, will take
away his life for such an act. And if we cannot
arrest him, he shall be declared an enemy to
the hermandad; every member of the herman
dad who shall have concealed him shall fall
under the penalty of perjury and felony, and
shall be treated in his turn as an enemy to this
hermandad.

"6. We declare, moreover, that the port-
duties shall be paid by us only in conformity
to the rights and usages of the times of Don
Alphonso, or the king Don Ferdinand, and
the councils of the hermandad will not permit
any person to receive them beyond this mea
sure.

* Tribute that was paid on St. Martin's day.

J- Another tribute.

J A tribute for the king's repast during his jour.
neys.

| Tribute for maintaining the ditches of the csstlW
in Castile, and the armies.

176

NOTES.

"7. Moreover, no infante or rich man shall
be a merino or grand bailiff in the kingdoms
of Leon and Galicia. Neither can these func
tions be exercised by an infangon, or a knight
having notoriously a great number of knights
or other men of the country in vassalage;
neither can they be exercised by a stranger to
the country. An'd we so will it, because such
was the custom in the days of the king Don
Alphunso and of the king Don Ferdinand.

"8. All those who may wish to appeal from
.the judgment of the king, or of Don Sancho,
»r of other kings who shall succeed him, may
do so ; they shall have recourse to the book
of the Fuero Juzgo, in the kingdom of Leon,
as was usual in the days of the kings who pre
ceded this. That if the right of appeal be
refused to any who may wish to invoke it, we,
on our part, will act according to the injunc
tions contained in the charters granted us by
Don Sancho. .

" 9. That we may guarantee and execute all
the acts of this hermandad, we make a seal of
two plates, bearing the following impressions :
upon one of the plates, the figure of a lion ; and
upon the other, the figure of St. James on
horseback, with a sword in his right hand; in
his left, a standard with a cross at the top, and
shells. The inscription shall be thus expressed :
' The Seal of the Hermandad of the Kinr/dom*
•jf Leon and Galicia.' This seal shall be affixed
to the documents which shall be required by
this hermandad.

" 10. We the whole hermandad of Castile,
make a promise and render homage to all the
hermandad of the kingdoms of Leon and Gali
cia, that we will assist each other well and
loyally to keep and maintain every one of the
above-named things. That if we fail to do so,
we are traitors for this alone, like him who
slays his lord or surrenders a castle ; and may
we never in that case have either hands, or
tongues, or arms to protect ourselves.

" 11. But lest there should be any doubt
about the pact, we are now making, in order
that this pact may be for ever inviolate, we seal
this letter with the two seals of the hermandad
of Castile, Leon, and Galicia, and place it in
the hands of D. Pedro Nunez, and the Order
of the Knights of St. Jobn, who are united
with us in this hermandad. Given at Valla-
dolid, the 8th day of July, in the year one
thousand three hundred and twenty."

Spain had passed through many centuries
without knowing of any other religion than
the Catholic. She still preserved in all its
force and vigor, the idea that the king should
be the first to observe the laws; that he could
not rule the people according to his caprice;
that he ought to govern by principles of jus
tice and views of public expediency. Saavedra,
in his Devises, thus expressed himself: —

" 1st. Laws are vain when the prince who
promulgates them does not confirm and uphold
thorn by his own life and example. A law will
appear lenient to the people when observed by
its author.

' In commune jubes si quid, censesve tenendum,
Primus jussa *ibi, tune observantior aequi
Fit populus, nee ferre vetat, cum videri ipsum
Auctorem parere sibi.

" The laws promulgated by Servius Tullius
*ere not only intended for the people, but also

for kings. The disputes between the monarch
and his subjects wero to be settled in c jnformitj
with these laws, as Tacitus relates of Tiberius .
'Although we are not subject to the laws,' said
the emperors Severus and Antonius, ' let us con
form our lives to these laws.' The monarch if
bound by the law not merely from the fact of
its being a law, but from the very reason upon
which it is founded, when it is natural and
common to all, and not particular and exclu
sively destined to the right government of sub
jects ; for in this case the observance of the
law merely concerns the subject, although the
monarch, if it should so happen, is bound to
obey it, in order to render it tolerable to others.
Such appears to have been the meaning of the
mysterious command given by God to Ezechiel,
to eat the volume, that others seeing him the
first to taste the laws and declare them good,
might be induced to imitate him. The kings
of Spain are so far subject to the laws, that
the Treasury, in causes relating to the royal
patrimony, is absolutely subject to the same
laws as the least of his subjects; and in doubt
ful cases, the Treasury is condemned. Philip
II. thus ordained it ; and on an occasion in
which his grandson Philip IV., the glorious
father of V. A., was personally brought tc
judgment in an important trial of the Chamber,
before the royal council, the judges had the
noble determination to condemn him, and his
majesty had the rectitude to hear the sentence
without expressing any indignation. Happy
empire, in which the cause of the monarch is
always the least favored!"

NOTE 35, p. 356.

Sufficient attention has not perhaps been paid
to the merit of the industrial organization intro
duced into Europe from the earliest ages, and
which became more and more diffused after the
twelfth century. I allude to the trades-unions,
and other associations, which, established un
der the influence of the Catholic religion, com
monly placed themselves under the patronage
of some Saint, and had pious foundations for
the celebration of their feasts, and for assist
ing each other in their necessities. Our cele
brated Capmany, in his Historical memoirs on
the Marine, Commerce, and the Art* of the an
cient City of Barcelona, has published a collec
tion of documents, very valuable for the history
of the working classes and of the development
of their influence on politics. Few works have
appeared in foreign countries, in the latter part
of the last century, of such great merit as that
of our fellow-countryman, published in 1779.
One very interesting chapter of this work is
devoted to the institution of trades-corpora
tions. I give here a copy of the chapter, which
I particularly recommend to the perus'al of
those persons who imagine that ncthing had
been thought of in Europe for the benefit of the
laboring classes, of those who are so foolish as
to look upon that as a means of slavery and
exclusivisui, which was in reality a means of
encouragement and of mutual support. It also
appears to me that, by reading the philosophi
cal remarks of Capmany, every sensible man
will be convinced that Europe, froin the earliest
ages, has possessed systems adapted to the en
couragement of industry, to the preserTatioi

NOTES.

477

sf it from the fatal agitations 'of those times,
to secure esteem for it, and to the legitimate
and salutary development of the popular ele
ment. It will be no less-useful to present this
sketch to certain foreign writers, continually
occupied with social and political economy, and
wDo, nevertheless, in compiling the history of
that science, have not even been acquainted
with a work so important for every thing con-
Dected with the middle ages of Europe, from
the eleventh to the eighteenth century.

" Of the institution of the Trades- Corporations
and other Associations of Artisans at Barce
lona.

"No memoir has hitherto been discovered
which might serve to enlighten and guide us
in fixing the exact epoch of the institution of
the trades-associations at Barcelona.* But
according to all the conjectures furnished by
ancient monuments, it is very probable that
the political erection or formation of the bodies
of laborers took place in the time of Don Jaime
I., under whose glorious reign the arts were
developed under a favorable influence ; whilst
commerce and navigation took a higher flight,
owing to the expeditions of the Aragonese arms
beyond the seas. Increased facilities in the
means of transport have given an impetus to
industry ; and an increasing population, the
natural result of labor, by its reaction apon
labor, augmented the demand for it. At Bar
celona, as everywhere else, trades-corporations
naturally arose when the wants and the tastes
of society had, of necessity, grown so multi
farious, that artisans were forced, with a view
to secure protection to their industry, to form
themselves into communities. Luxury, and
the tastes of society, like every other object
of commerce, are subject to continual change;
hence, new branches of trade are continually
springing up and displacing others ; so that at
one period each separate art runs into various
branches, whilst at another, several arts are
combined into one At Barcelona, corporate
industry has passed through all these vicissi
tudes in the course of five centuries. The
hardware trade has comprised at different peri
ods eleven or twelve branches, and consequently
afforded subsistence to as many classes of fa
milies, whilst at the present time these same
branches are reduced to eight, in consequence
of certain changes in fashions and customs.

" In accordance with the social system which
generally prevailed at that time in most Eu
ropean countries, it was found necessary to
bestow liberty and privileges upon an indus
trious and mercantile people, who thus became
a great source of strength and support to kings ;
and this could hot be, effected without classify -

* "It is extremely difficult to ascertain the origin
of the trades-corporations, even in those towns which
have been the longest aud the best disciplined. — '
Sandi, in his Civil History of Venice, (t. ii part 1, lib.
iv. p. 767), after having reckoned sixty -one trades-
corporations existing in that capital at the beginning
of his century, declares that it is impossible to assign
to each of these corporations the date of its origin,
or thftt of its first statutes. This historian neverthe
less consulted all the archives of the republic; he
tonteuts himself with observing, that none of the
corpor itions are anterior to the fourteenth century."
(The, notes which accompany this chaptir are those of
y himself.)

ing the citizens. But these lines of demarca
tion could not be maintained distinct and in
violate without a political division of the va
rious corporations in which both men and their
occupations were classified. This division was
the more necessary in a city like Barcelona,
which, ever since the middle of the thirteenth
contury, had assumed a sort of democratic in
dependence in its mode of government. Thus,
in Italy, the first country in the West that re
established the name and the influence of the
people, after these had been effaced in the iron
ages by Gothic rule, the industrial classes had
already been formed into corporations, which
gave stability to the arts and trades, and con
ferred great honors upon them in those free
cities, where, amidst the flux and reflux of in
vasions, the artisan became a senator, and the
senator an artisan. Wars and factions, en
demic evils in that delightful country at the
time of which we are speaking, could not, in
spite of all their ravages, effect the destruction
of the associated trades, whose political exis
tence, when once their members were admitted
to a share in the government, formed the very
basis of the constitution of both nations, inas
much as both were industrial and mercantile
At Barcelona the trades were well regulated,
prosperous, and flourishing, under that muni
cipal system, and that consular jurisprudence,
of which commerce, and its invariable concom
itant, industry, have always stood in need. It
was thus that this capital became one of the
most celebrated centres of the manufacturing
industry of the middle ages — a reputation
which it has maintained and increased up to
the present time. In like manner, it was un
der the name and rule of corporations and bro
therhoods that trades were established in Flan-
ders, in France, and in England, countries in
which the arts have been carried to their
highest degree of perfection and renown. The
trades-corporations of Barcelona, even when
viewed merely as a necessary institution for
the due regulation of the primitive form of
municipal government, should be regarded as
most important, whether for the preservation
of the arts, or as forming the basis of the in
fluence of the artisans themselves. It is at
once evident, from the experience of five cen
turies, that trades-unions have effected un
speakable good in Barcelona, were it only by
preserving, as an imperishable deposite, the
l«»ve, the tradition, and the memory of the arts.
They have formed so many rallying points, so
many banners, as it were, under which more
than once the shattered forces of industry have
found refuge ; and have thus been enabled to re
cover their energy and activity, and to perpe
tuate their existence to our own days, in spite
of pestilence, wars, factions, and a multitude
of other calamities, which exhaust men's ener
gies, overthrow their habitations, and change
their manners. If Barcelona, so often visited
by these physical and political plag-es, had
possessed no community, no bond, no connccn
interest among its artisans, it would certainly
have witnessed the destruction of their skill|
their economy, and their activity, as is the
case with beavers, when their communitie*
have been broken up and dispersed by th«
hunters.*
* We here recognise many ideas taken from

478

NOTES

" By a happy effect of the security enjoyed
by ^^nilies in their different trades, and thanks
to LUO aid, or mont-de-piete, established in the
very bosom of the corporation for its necessi
tous members, who, without this assistance,
might have been plunged into misery, these
economical establishments at Barcelona have
directly contributed to maintain the prosperity
of the arts, by shutting out misery from the
workshop, and preserving the operatives from
indigence. Without this corporate police, by
which each trade is surrounded, the property
and the fortune of the artisan would have been
exposed to the greatest risks; moreover, the
credit and stability of the trades themselves
would have been perilled ; for then the quack,
the unskilled operative, and the obscure ad
venturer, might have imposed upon the public
with impunity, and a pernicious latitude might
have taken the place of liberty. On the other
hand, the trades-corporations being powerful
associations, each one by itself being governed
by a unanimity of intelligence and a communi
ty of interests, could purchase their stocks of
raw materials seasonably and advantageously.
They supplied the wants of the masters; they
made advances, or stood security, for those of
their members who lacked either time or funds
for making great preliminary disbursements
of capital at their own cost. Besides, these
corporations, comprehending and representing
the industry of the nation, and consequently
feeling an interest in its maintenance, address
ed from time to time memorials to the Muni
cipal Council, or to the Cortes, relative to the
injuries they were sustaining, or the approach
of which they, as it often happened, foresaw
from the introduction of counterfeit goods, or
of foreign productions, which is a cause of ruin
to our industry. In fine, without the institu
tion of trades-corporations, instruction would
have been void of order and fixed rules ; for
where there are no masters duly authorized
and permanently established, neither will
there be any disciples: and all regulations, in
default of an executive power to see them ob
served, will be disregarded and trodden under
foot. Trades-corporations are so necessary to
the preservation of the arts, that the various
trades known at the present day in this capital
have derived their appellations and their origin
from the economical divisions, and from the
arts established by these corporations. Wh^n
the blacksmith in his shop made plough sharfefts,
nails, keys, knives, swords, <fec., the names of
the trades of the blacksmith, the nailer, the
cutler, the armorer, &c. were unknown; and
as there was no special and particular instruc
tion in each of these branches of labor, the
separation of which afterwards formed so many
new arts maintained by their respective com
munities, these trades were unknown.

"The second political advantage resulting
from the institution of trades-corporations at
^arciluna was, the esteem and consideration

work which saw the light in 1774, from the press of
Sancha. under the title of Dicnurs economique-poli-
liquzpour la defensedu travail mecanique des ouvriers,
par 1). Ramon Miguel Palacio. The author of these
memoirs, fearing to be accused of a gross plagiarism,
observes that, being obliged here to treat of this same
matter, ne was forced to adopt many of the ideas con
tained in this work, which at that time he thought it
to publish without affixing his real name."

in which at all times these
caused both the artisans and the arts to b«
held. This wise institution won respect foi
the operative classes, by constituting them •
visible and permanent order in the state.
Hence it is that the conduct and the .node of
life of the Barcelonians have ever been such
as are to be found only amongst an honoraole
people. Never having been confounded with
any exempted and privileged body (for the
trades-corporations draw a circle around their
members, and let them know what they are,
and what they are worth), these people learn
ed that there was honor and virtue within
their own sphere, and labored to preserve
those qualities ; so certain is it that social dis
tinctions in a nation have more influence than
is sometimes believed in upholding the spirit
of each social class.

" Another view of this question shows us
that trades-corporations form communities,
governed by an economic code, which assigns
to each corporation certain employments and
certain honors, to which every individual
member may aspire. Even men's prejudices,
Tyhen wisely directed, sometimes produce ad
mirable eifects. Thus the government, the
administration of these bodies, in which the
artisan always enjoyed the prerogative of
managing the resources and the interests of
his trade and of his fellow-members, with the
title of Counsellor, or Elder (J'rohombre), won
for the mechanical arts of Barcelona public and
general esteem; whilst the pre-eminence in a
festival or an assembly serves with these men
to soften the rigors of manual labor, and the
disadvantages of their inferior condition. At
the same time that the trades of Barcelona,
formed into well-organized bodies, fixed and
preserved the arts in that capital, they had the
further credit, by acting as political bodies
of the most numerous class of the people, of
gaining a high esteem for their members. The
obscure artisan, without matriculation, or a
common bond, continues isolated and wander
ing; he dies, and with him perishes his art;
or at the first reverse of fortune, he emigrates
and abandons his craft. What consideration
can wretched wandering followers of any trad?
obtain in a country ? Just such as knife-grin
ders and tinkers possess in the provinces of
Spain. At Barcelona, all the trades have con
stantly enjoyed the same general esteem, be
cause all have been established and governed
upon a system which has rendered them fixed,
respectable, and prosperous.

" The esteem in which the trades of Barcelo
na were held from the time when the munici
pal government had formed them into national
corporations, the agents of public economy,
gave rise to the laudable and useful custom of
perpetuating trades in the same families. In
fact the people having learned that, without
quitting the class to which they belonged,
they could preserve the respect and considera
tion due to useful and honorable citizens, no
longer desired to quit it, and were no longer
ashamed of their condition. When trades are
held in honor, which is the consequence of
the stability and civil properties of corpora
tions, they naturally become hereditary. Now,
the advantages both to the artisan and tb*
arts, resulting from this transmission of trades..

NOTES.

479

•re so real and so well knovn, that it is need
less to specify them here, cr to dwell upon their
salutary effects. This demarcation and clas
sification of trades caused many of the arts to
become sure possessions for those who adopted
them. Hence fathers aimed at transmitting
their trade to their sons ; and thus was formed
an indestructible mass of national industry,
which made labor honorable, by implanting
steady and homogeneous manners, if we may
so speak, in the bosem of the class of artisans.
" Another circumstance contributed still
more to render the exercise of the mechanical
arts honorable at Barcelona, not only more
than in most other parts of Spain, but more
than in any other state, ancient or modern.
This was the admission of the trades-cor-

S orations upon the register of municipal offices
i this city, which enjoyed so many royal
grants and extraordinary privileges of inde
pendence. Thus the nobility — that Gothic
nobility — with their great domains, sought to
be incorporated with the operatives in the
Ayuntamiento, there to fill the offices and su
preme stations in the political government,
which, during more than five hundred years,
continued in Barcelona under a form and in a
spirit truly democratic.* All mechanical offices,
without any odious distinction or exclusion,
were held worthy to be declared qualified for
the consistorial council of magistrates ; all had
a voice and a vote among the conscript fathers
who represented this city, the most highly
privileged perhaps that ever existed; one of
the most renowned for its laws, its power, and
its influence ; one of the most respected in the
middle ages amongst all the states and mon
archies of Europe, Asia, and Africa, f

" This political system, and this municipal
form of government, resembled that which
prevailed in the middle ages amongst all the
principal towns of Italy, whence Catalonia
borrowed many of its customs and usages.
Genoa, Pisa, Milan, Pavia, Florence, Sienna,
and other towns, had a municipal government
composed of the leading men in commerce,
and the arts, under the name of consuls, coun
sellors, &c. Priores Artium — such was the
name of a popular form of elective govern
ment, distributed among the different classes
of citizens, without excluding the artisans,
who, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries,
were in their most flourishing condition, form
ing the most respectable part of the population,
and consequently the richest, the most power
ful, and the most independent. This demo
cratic liberty, besides giving stability and
permanency to industry in the towns of Italy,
conferred a singular degree of honor on the
mechanical professions. The grand council of
these towns was summoned by the tolling of
the bell, when the artisans arranged themselves

* "Consult the Appendix of Notes, Nos. 28 and 30.
\ou will there see what respect and power the town
of Barcelona enjoyed at another period, by means of
the municipal magistrates, who represented it under
the ordinary name of councillors.''

t •' In the diplomatic collection of these memoirs,
we find a multitude of letters and other documents
proving the direct and mutual relations which exist
ed between the city of Barcelona and the emperors
of the East, of Germany, the sultans of Egypt, the
kings of Tunis, of Morocco, and various inouarchs
and states, or other great powers of Europe."

under the banners or gonfalons of their respec
tive trades. Such was also the political con.
stitution of Barcelona from the middle of the
thirteenth to the commencement of the pre
sent century. With these facts before us, need
we feel surprise that, in our own days, arts
and artisans in Barcelona still retain undimi-
nished esteem and consideration : that a love
for mechanical professions has become here
ditary ; that the dignity and self-respect of the
artisan class have become traditional, even to
the last generations, in which the customs of
their ancestors have been transmitted by the
succession of example, even after the extinc
tion of the political reasons in which these
customs had their origin ? Several trades-cor
porations still preserve in the halls of their
juntas the portraits of those of their members
who formerly obtained the first employments
in the state. Must not this laudable practice
have engraven on the memory of the members
of the corporation all the ideas of honor and
dignity consistent with the condition of an
artisan? Assuredly the popular form of the
ancient government of Barcelona could not fail
to imprint itself generally and forcibly on the
manners of the people ; indeed, where all the
citizens were equal in the participation of
honors, it is easy to see that no one would
willingly remain inferior to another in virtue
or in merit, although inferior, in other respects,
by his condition and fortune. This noble emu
lation, which must naturally have been awak
ened to activity in the concourse of all orders
in the state, gave birth to the dignity, the lofty
and inviolate probity of the artisans of Barce
lona; and this character they have maintained
to our own times, to the admiration of Spain
and of foreign; nations. Such has been the
negligence of our national authors, that this
narrative will have the appearance of a disco
very : up to the present time Barcelona and
the Principality had not attracted the scruti
nizing notice of the political historian, so that
& dark shadow still concealed the real princi
ples (always unknown to the crowd) from which
in all times, have sprung the virtues and the
vices of nations.

" To these causes may be attributed, in great
part, the esteem which the artisans have ac
quired. Nothing could be more salutary than
this obligation they were always under of com
porting themselves with dignity and distinction
in public employments, whether in the corpo
ration or the municipal government. Moreover
the constant example of the master of the
house, who, up to the present time, has always
lived in common with his apprentices in a
praiseworthy manner, has continued the chil
dren in ideas of order and dignity; for the
manners and habits of a people, which are 88
powerful as law, must be inculcated from the
tenderest age. Thus, in Barcelona, the opera
tive has never been confounded by the sloven
liness of his dress with the mendicant, whose
idle and dissipated habits, says an illustriou«
writer, are easily contracted when the dress of
the man of respectability is in no way distin
guished from that of the rabble. Nor are the
laboring population ever seen wearing those
cumbersome garments which, serving as a
cover for rags and a cloak foi idleness, cramp
the movements and activity of the body, antf

480

NOTES.

Invite to a life of indolent ease. The people
have not contracted a habit of frequenting ta
verns, where example leads to drunkenness
and moral disorders. Their amusements, so
necessary for working people to render their
daily toils supportable, have always been in
nocent recreations, which either afforded them
repose from their fatigues or varied them. The
games formerly permitted were either the ring
(la baf/ue), nine pins, bowls, ball, shooting at
a mark, fencing, and public dancing, authoriz
ed and watched over by the authorities ; an
amusement which from time immemorial has
been general amongst the Catalans, in certain
seasons and on certain festivals of the year.

" The respect for the artisan of Barcelona
has never been diminished on account of the
material on which his art was exercised, whe
ther it was silver, steel, iron, copper, wood, or
wool. We have seen that all the trades were
equally eligible to the municipal offices of the
state ; none were excluded — not even butchers.
Ancient Barcelona did not commit the political
error of establishing preferences that might
have produced some odious distinctions of
trades. The inhabitants considered that all
the citizens were in themselves worthy of
esteem, since all contributed to the growth and
maintenance of the property of a capital whose
opulence and power were founded upon the
industry of the artisan and the merchant. In
Tact, Barcelona has ever been free from that
idea, so generally entertained, that every me
chanical profession is low and vulgar — a mis
chievous and very common prejudice, which,
in the provinces of Spain, has made an irre
parable breach in the progress of the arts.
At Barcelona, admission into certain trades-
corporations has never been refused to the
members of other trades : in this city all the
trades are held in the same estimation. In a
word, neither Barcelona nor any other town in
Catalonia has ever entertained those vulgar
prejudices that are enough to prevent honor
able men from devoting themselves to the arts,
or to cause the son to forsake the art practised
by the father."*

NOTE 36, p. 361.

I havo spoken of the numerous Councils
held by the Church at different epochs; why,
it will be asked, does she not hold them more ]
frequently now ? I will answer this question
by quoting a judicious passage from Count de
Maistre, in his work On the Pope, book i. chap.
2:—

" In the first ages of Christianity," says he,
" it was more easy to assemble Councils, be
cause the Church was not so numerous as now,
and because the emperors possessed powers
that enabled a sufficient number of Bishops to
assemble, so that their decisions needed only
the assent ol other Bishops. 7et these Coun
cils were not assembled with<sut much difficulty
and embarrassment. But in modern times,
since the civilized world has been divided into
so many sovereignties, and immeasurably in
creased by our intrepid navigators, an (Ecu
menical Council has become a chimera. "f Sim-

* See the remarks of his Excellency M. Campo-
nanes on these abuses and false principles of policy,
in hi.s Discourse on t/ie Popular Educahon of Arti-
tans, from page 119 to 160.

* We ordinarily call a chimera, or an

ply to convoke all the Bishops, and to briaj
legally together such a convocation, five or six

years would not suffice."

NOTE 37, p. 369.

That my readers may be convinced of th«
truth and accuracy of what I here affirm, I
invite them to read the history of the heresies
that have afflicted the Church since the first
ages, but particularly from the tenth century
down to our own days.

NOTE 38, p. 37<J.

It was not, I have said, without prejudice to
the liberty of the people that the influence of
the clergy was withdrawn from the working of
the political machine. In order to ascertain
how far this is true, it may oe well to remark,
that a great number of theologians were fa
vorable to tolerably liberal doctrines in politi
cal matters, and that it was the clergy who ex
ercised the greatest freedom in speaking to
kings, even after the people had almost en-
tirelylost the right of intervention in political
affairs. Observe what opinions St. Thomas
held on forms of government.

(Quest, cv. 1» 2«.)

De ratione judicialium prceceptorum art, 1.
Respondeo dicendum, quod circa bonam onli-
nationem principuui in aliqua civitate, vel
gente, duo sunt attendenda, quorum unum est,
ut omnes aliquam partem habeant in princi-
patu ; per hoc eniin conservatur pax populi et
omnes talem ordinationem amarit et custodiunt
ut dicitur (II. Polit., cap. i.); aliud est quod
attenditur secundum speciem regiminis vel
ordinationis principatum, cujus cum sint diver-
sae species, ut philosophus tradit in III. Polit.
cap. v., praecipue tamen unum regimen est, in
quo unus principatur secundum virtutem: et
aristocratia, id est potestas optimorum, in qua
aliqui pauci principantur secundum virtutem.
Unde optima ordinatio principum est in aliqua
civitate vel regno, in quo unus pncficitur
secundum virtutem qui omnibus praasit et sub
ipso sunt aliqui principantes secundum virtu-
tern, et tamen talis principatus ad omnes per-
tinet, turn quia ex omnibus eligi possunt, turn
quia etiam ab omnibus eliguntur. Talis vero
est omnis politia bene cornrnixta ex regno in
quantam unus praeest, et aristocratia in quan
tum multi principantur secundum virtutem, et
ex democratia, id est potestate populi in quan
tum ex popularibus possunt eligi principes, et
ad populum pertinet electio principum, et hoo
fuit institutum secundum legem divinam.

Divus Thomas. (1» '2» Q. 90, art. 4».)
Et sic ex quatuor prtedictis potest colligi
definitio legis quae nihil est aliud quam quaa-
dam rationis ordinatio ad bonuin commune ab
eo qui curam communitatis habet promulgate
Q. 95, art. 4.

lity, that which offers great difficulties. On this oc
casion we cannot help observing to sincere persons,
that, from these ^reat difficulties, they may judge of
the lawfulness and sincerity of the desires manifest
ed by the soi-disant reformers and appellants to Ooun
cils. They do not wish for Councils; but, under the
shadow of this word, they wish to escape the autho
rity of their legitimate superiors. (Note by the au
thors of the Bibliotke(iue de Religion, published in
Spain.)

NOTES.

481

Tertio eet de ratione legis iiumanae ut insti-
taatur a gubernante communitatem civitatis :
iicut supra dictum est. (Quest. 90, art. 3.) Et
secundum hoc distinguuntur leges humanae
Becundum diversa regimina civitatum, quorum
unum, secundum philosophum in III. Polit.,
cap. xi,, est regnum, quando scilicet ci vitas gu-
beniatur ab ino, et secundum boc accipiuntur
constitutions principum; aliud vero regimen
est aristocratia, id est principatus optimorura
vel optimatum, et secundum hoc sumuntur re-
•ponsa prudentum et etiain scnatusconsulta.
Aliu^ regimen est oligarchia, id est principatus
pat..^yum -divitum et potentum ; et secundum
hoc surnitur jus prtetorium, quod etiam honora
rium dicitur. Aliud autein regimen est populi,
quod nominatur democratia; et secundum hoc
sumuntur plebiscite. Aliud autein est tyranni-
cuin, quod est otnnino corruptuin unde ex hoc
non sumitur aliqua lex. Est etiam et aliquod
regimen ex istis commixtum, quod est opti
mum, et secundum hoc sumitur lex quam
majores natu siruul cum plebibus sanxerunt, ut
Isidorus elicit lib. 5, Etym. 0. cap. x.

If certain declaimers are to be believed, it
would seem that the principle, that it is the law
which governs, and not the will of man, is
quite a recent discovery. But observe with
what solidity and perspicuity the angelic doctor
expounds this doctrine.

(1» 2» Q. 93, art. 1.)

Utrum fuerit utile aliquas leges poni ab ho-
minibus.

Ad 2 " dicendum, quod sicut Philosophus
dicit. 1. Rhetor. Melius est omnia ordinari
lege, quam dimittere judicum arbitrio, et hoc
propter tria. Primo quidem, quia facilius est
mvenire paucos sapientes, qui sufficiant ad rec-
tas leges ponendas, quam multos ; qui require-
rentur ad recte judicandum de singulis. Se-
cundo, quia illi qui leges ponunt, ex multo
tenipore considerant quid lege ferendum sit:
sed judicia de singularibus factis fiunt ex casi-
bus subito exortis. Facilius autem ex multis
consideratis potest homo videre quid rectum
sit, quam solum ex aliquo uno facto. Tertio,
quia legislatores judicant in universali, et de
futuris : sed homines judiciis praesidentes judi
cant de praesentibus ; ad quae afficientur amore
vel odio, aut aliqua cupiditate; et sic eorum
depravatur judicium. Quia ergo justitia ani-
inata judicis non invenitur in multis, et quia
flcxibilis est : ideo necessarium fuit in quibus-
cumque est possibiie, legem determinare quid
judicandum sit, etpaucissima arbitrio hbminum
committere.

In Spain, the Procuradorea of the Cortes
dared not raise their voices against the excesses
of power; and their timidity drew down the
keen reproaches of P. Mariana. In the exami
nation to which he' was subjected in the cele
brated suit commenced against him on the
subject of the teven treatises, he confesses
having applied to the Procuradores the epithets
of vile, superficial, and utterly venal, only
striving to obtain the favor of the prince, and
their own particular interests, without solici
tude for the public good. He added, that such
was the public cry, the general complaint, at
least at Toledo, where he was residing.

I will leave unnoticed his work intituled De

Rege et Regis instil utitme, of which I have

61 2

spoken elsewhere. Confining myself to hil
I lint (\ >/ <>f Spain, I will observe with what
liberty he expresses himself on the most deli
cate points, without meeting with any opposi
tion, either from the civil or from the ecclesi
astical authority. In his 1st book, chap. 4,
speaking of the Aragonese, in his usual grave
and severe tone, he says: "The Aragonese
possess and enjoy laws and fueros very differ
ent from those of the other people of Spain;
they possess every thing most adapted for pre
serving liberty against the excessive power
of kings, for preventing this power from de
generating and changing, by its natural ten
dency, into tyranny ; for they are not ignorant
of this truth, that the right of liberty is gene
rally lost by degrees."

It was precisely at this epoch that the clergy
expressed themselves with the greatest freedom
on the most delicate of all subjects, that of con
tributions. The venerable Palafox, in his me
morial or petition to the king for ecclesiastical
immunity, said: "According to St. Augustine,
to the great Tostat, and other weighty authors,
the Son of God appointed that the children of
God — that is the ministers of the Church, hi-
priests — should not pay tribute to the pagai
princes. In fact, he addressed to St. Peter th«
following question, already resolved by the eter
nal wisdom of the Father: Reyes gentium a
quibittt accipiunt tributum, a Jl/ii#, tin abalientt f
St. Peter answered, Ab alienis ; and our Lord
concluded with these words : Ergo liberi simi
filii. I may be allowed, sire, to make this
delicate observation, that the Divine Majesty
does not say, lieges gentium a quibus capiunt
tributum, but a quibus accipiunt. By this word
accipiunt, we understand the mildness and
mansuetude with which the payment of a tri
bute should always be exacted, in order to di
minish the bitterness and repugnance accom
panying a tribute.

• " 46. It is doubtless useful for the preserva
tion of the state, that, in the first place, subject*
should give, in order that princes may then
receive. It is proper that kings should receive,
and employ the tribute paid them, for on thU
depends the safety of crowns ; but it is well tha*
subjects should first give it voluntarily. It i.
doubtless from this passage of Scripture, fronr
this expression of the Eternal Word, that the
Catholic Crown, always so pious, has receivec
the holy doctrine, by virtue of which neither
your majesty nor your illustrious predecessor!
have ever permitted a tribute to be levied
without its having first received the consent of
the kingdoms themselves, and been offered by
them ; and your majesty is incomparably more
exalted by limiting and moderating your power,
than by exercising it to its utmost extent.

"47. Sire, if laymen, who have no exemption
in matters of tribute, enjoy that which the
kindness of your majesty and of the most
Catholic kings grant them; if they do not pay
till they choose to make a voluntary offering
if nothing is received from them except on this
condition, will religion, your majesty's re
nowned piety, and the devoted zeal of the
Council, allow the clergy — the sons, the min
isters of God, the privileged, those who are
exempt by divine and human law in all the
nations of the world, and among the very
pagans — to enjoy lesa favor than strangers
Q

482

NOTES.

who are not, like them, either ministers of the
Church or priests of God ? Is the word capiunt,
•ire, to be applied exclusively to the ministers
•if God, and the word accipiunt to men of the
world ?"

In his work intituled tfistoria Heal Sngrada,
the same writer raises his voice against tyranny
with extreme severity :

"12. Such," says he, "is the law which the
king whom you wish for will maintain in your
regard. The word law is here employed ironi
cally, as if God should say : ' You imagine,
without doubt, that this king of yours would
govern according to law; on this supposition
you asked for him, since you complained that
my tribunal did not govern you. Now, the
law which this king will exercise towards you
will be, to disregard all law ; and his law will
eventually be tyranny respected.' The politi
cian who, relying upon this passage, should
attribute as a right to the monarch a power
which is merely pointed out by God to the
people as a chastisement, would be an uncivil
ized being, unworthy of being treated as a
rational creature. The Lord, in this instance,
does not define what is the best; he does not
•ay what he is giving them ; these words are
no appreciation of power ; he merely declares
what would be the case, and what he condemns.
VTho shall dare to found the origin of tyranny
on justice itself? God says, that he whom
they desire for a king will be a tyrant — not a
tyrant approved of by him, but a tyrant that he
reprobates and chastises. And subsequent
events clearly shewed it, since there were in
[srael wicked kings, by whom the prophecy
vas fulfilled, and Saints who obtained on the
ihrone the mercy of God. The wicked kings
iterally accomplished the divine threat, by
ioing what they were forbidden ; the good ones
established their dignity upon propriety and
justice within prescribed limits."

Father Marquez, in his Christian Prince or
Magistrate (Gobernador Cristiano), also en-
targes on the same question ; he expounds his
opinion both theoretically and practically.

(Chapter xvi. 53.)

"Thus far we have heard the words of Philo,
writing on this event. As these words afforded
me an opportunity of reasoning on the obliga
tions of Christian kings, I have taken care to
quote them at length. I will not expect these
kings to act like Moses; for they have not the
miraculous aid which the Hebrew legislator re
ceived for the relief of the people, nor the rod
which God gave him to make water flow from
the rock at need. But I will recommend them
to reflect maturely on the additional services
they shall attempt to exact from their subjects,
and the burdens they shall impose on them.
Let them reflect that they are bound to justify
the motive of their request in all truth, and
without any false coloring; always and con
stantly aware that they are in the presence of
God, that the eyes of God are fixed on their
hands, that II a will require from them a strict
account of their actions. For, as the holy
doctor of Nazianzen says, the Son of God came
designedly into the world at the taking of a
census and a resettlement of the imposts, in
nrder to confound kings who would have ap-
xunted (hem through caprice; so that kings

may now know that the Son of God takei
account of every item, and weighs in the bal
ance of his strict justice things which we
should account of little moment

'•The above reflection will serve to dispel th«
false ideas of certain flatterers, who, to obtain
the favor of princes, persuade them that they
are perfectly independent and the masters of
the lives and property of their subjects, free to
dispose of them as they may think proper. In
support of this pretended maxim, they allege,
as we have seen, the history of Samuel, who
answered the people on the part of God, when
they were demanding a king, 'You 'shall have
one, but on terrible conditions.' This king wa«
to take from them their fields, their vineyards,
their oliveyards, to give them to his servants;
he was to take their daughters for slaves, 'to
make him ointments, and to be his cooks and
bakers.' And they have not observed that, as
John Bodin says, this is the interpretation of
Philip Melancthon, which alone is sufficient to
render it suspicious. Moreover, as St. Gregory,
and after him other doctors, have observed,
this passage of Scripture does not establish the
just right of kings, but rather announces be
forehand the tyranny of a great number of
princes ; in fine, these words do not explain
what good princes might do, but merely what
bad ones would usually do. Hence, when
Achab seized upon the vineyard of NaV.oth,
God was angry with him, and we know how
He treated him. When David, the elect of
God, demanded a spot whereon to set up the
altar of Jebusee, he only asked it on condition
of*paying the value of the land.

" For this reason princes should ex.'imine
with scrupulous attention whether contribu
tions are just; for if they are not, docton
decide that they cannot, without manifest in
justice, thus more or less infringe on the rights
of their subjects. This doctrine is so Catholic
and certain, that men holding sound doctrine
affirm that, in this case, princes cannot impose
fresh tributes, even though necessary, without
the consent of the nation. For, say they, the
prince not being (which he certainly is not
the master of his subjects' property, cannol
make use of it without the consent of those
from whom he is to receive it. This custom
has been long in practice in the kingdom of
Castile, where the laws of royalty prohibit the
levying of any new impost without the inter
vention of the Cortes : after having received
the sanction of the Cortes, the impost is sub
mitted to the vote of the towns; and the prince
does not consider his demand granted till it
has received the sanction of the majority of the
towns. Edward I. of England made a similar
law, according to many authors of weight; an«i
Philip of Commines says, that it was the same
in France till the time of Charles VIL, who,
urged by an extreme necessity, suppressed
these formalities, and levied a tax without
waiting for the consent of the States, and thia
inflicted on the kingdom so deep a wound, that
it will long continue unhealed. If we may
credit certain affirmations, this author reports,
that it was then asserted that the king had
escaped from the guardianship exercised by the
kingdom ; but that his own opinion is, that
kings cannot, without the consent of their peo
ple, exact a single Birthing; princes acting

NOTES.

488

•therwise, Bays he, fall under the Pope's ex-
communication ; no doubt that of the bull In
Ccena Domini. For my own part, I ought to
confess that I do not find this in Philip de

Commines With respect to this

gecond point, it is evident, that the prince can
not, on hia own authority, impose new tributes
without the consent of the nation, whenever
this nation shall have acquired by any of the
reasons mentioned a contrary right, which I
consider to be the case in Castile. No one, in
fact, will deny that kingdoms at their com
mencement have a right to choose their kings
on this condition, or render them such services
as to obtain in return that no new imposts shall
be laid on them without their consent. Now,
in either case, there will be a compact made,
from which kings cannot depart ; and it is of
no consequence, as some imagine it to be,
whether they have obtained their kingdoms
through the election of their subjects, or by
mere force of arms. Although it is probable,
indeed, that a State yielding itself of its own
accord, will obtain greater privileges and better
conditions than those acquired by a just war,
It would not, however, be impossible for a State,
in choosing a ^ing, to confer upon him all its
power in an absolute manner, and without this
restriction, with a view to lay him under greater
obligations, and to testify to him a greater
degree of devotedne-s; and, on the other hand,
a king, who had subjected a kingdom by force
of arms, might nevertheless voluntarily grant
it this privilege, with a view to obtain its
gratitude, and more affectionate obedience on
its part. The positive rule, therefore, for this
particular right, will be the contract made,
whether virtually or expressly, between the
State and the prince; a contract which should be
inviolable, especially if it is sealed by an oath."

The Prince, or Christian Magistrate.
(Liv. ii. ch. xxxix. \ 2.)

" Princes, it is said, may compel their sub
jects to sell at half-price, or to give gratui
tously, a part of their property. This opinion
is generally founded on the law which ordains
that, when a ship in a tempest has been saved
by throwing overboard a part of the cargo, the
proprietors of the remaining part are obliged to
make a proportionate contribution to indemnify
the sufferers for the loss they have sustained.
Bartholus and other authors have inferred from
this, that in a time of necessity and famine the
monarch may require his subjects to give gratui
tously, and a fortiori to sell at a lower price, a
portion of their property to those in need. The
monarch, say they, might, without any doubt,
render property co^nmon, as it was before the
establishment of social rights ; he may conse
quently take it from one of his subjects and
give it to another.

"It is certainly said in the laws of the kings
of Israel, that he who should be chosen by God
might seize upon the vineyards and property
of his subjects, to confer them on his own ser
vants : bu< the doctors do not support their |
arguments on this text. In fact, as we have
said in chapter 16th, book L, the question does
not concern the rights of a good prince, but the
tyrannical acts of a bad one. Now, a careful
study of the Scriptures will shew, that this

passage must be favourable to one or other of
the two opinions,- for, if it were intended to
establish that kings would possess in conscience
the authority set forth in this passage, they
would certainly have the right of seizing^the
property of one of their subjects to give it t«
another. If this passage is merely meant aa a
declaration of the injustices, of the extortiona,
and the tyrannies of wicked monarchs, it Ls no
less certain that in Scripture the deed ia con
sidered unjust; for this deed is alleged as an
example of what tyrants would do ; now if it
had been permitted to a good king, it would not
have been quoted as an example of tyranny, aa
the Scriptures suppose it

" Thus, this text alone, even were there no
other in support of this doctrine, would satisfy
me, that kings cannot lawfully compel their
subjects to relinquish their property for less
than its value, not even under pretext of the
public good. In fact, were this pretext valid,
it would not have been difficult for the kings
of Israel to find an excuse for their tyranny ;
they might have alleged, that it was important
to the public good to reward servants whose
fidelity was so advantageous to* the interests of
the kingdom. Further, King Achab might
have urged, that the amusements of the prince
formed a part of the public good, since the
people are so much interested in the health of
the prince; and under this pretext might Lave
deprived Naboth of his vineyard in order to
enlarge his gardens. We find, however, that
this pretext did not justify him in compelling
Naboth even to sell his vineyard; the king,
although grieved, was not offended by <hia
man's refusal, neither was it his intention to
seize the vineyard, had not the impious Jezabel
furnished him with the means of doing so.

" Reason is evidently in favour of this opi
nion. Kings are the ministers of justice, and
have been appointed to administer and uphold
justice among the people. As St. Thomas
teaches, the contract in buying and selling ia
only just in proportion as the price is equiva
lent to the thing purchased. Public, it is true,
should be preferred to individual interest; in
case, therefore, that a State is in danger of
dissolution, the monarch might demand pro
perty at a less price, or even for nothing, just
as he might compel the citizen to expose hia
life, which is of still greater value, in defending
the common cause in a just war. This case,
however, as P. Molina observes, is impossible,
since the monarch would always be able tc
indemnify the individual for the loss he sus
tained, by levying for this purpose a general
tax, a just tribute, and one that the State would
be bound to pay. fo prove this still more
clearly, let us imagine the most urgent case
possible ; let us suppose that the king is be
sieged in his capital by a tyrant; the tyrant
is about to enter sword and torch in hand; h«
offers to raise the siege on condition of receiv
ing a statue of gold of great value, formerly
the property of his ancestors, which a subjool
of the besieged king, the commander-in-chief
of his armies, had taken in the plunder of a
town, and made the inalienable property of the
eldest son of his family. To render the case
still more pressing, let us suppose that the
tyrant has a dearly-cherished relation in th«
service of the besieged king, and that, he wiU

484

NOTES.

be satisfied if a rich lord of the kingdom,
possessing a great number of estates, be de
spoiled, and his property conferred on his
relation. It cannot be doubted that, iu order
to purchase the lives of all, this arrangement
might be entered into; and that the king
would be justified in acceding to the demand
in taking the statue, or even the whole of this
property, to confer it on the tyrant's relation.
But no one will assert that the lord should
suffer the whole loss. The State would be
under the obligation of indemnifying him for
the lose by taking upon itself the indemnifi
cation, the lord merely contributing his quota;
for this reason, that it would be opposed to
natural justice for the burdens of the whole body
to fall upon a single member, which would be
the case according to the law proposed by the
opponents. If, in a case of shipwreck, all the
cargo were thrown overboard to save the ship
and the lives and fortunes of all, the obligation
being common to all, it would not be just that
it should fall exclusively upon the owners ;
because the cargo could best be thrown over
board and most endangered the ship's safety :
the loss should be borne by all, even by those
whohad with them things only of little weight, as
jewels or diamonds, for instance ; since neither
these latter proprietors nor the vessel herself
could be saved without lightening her by
throwing overboard the heavier portion of the
cargo.

" The law decrees also that the owner of the
vessel shall pay his quota. Not that he is ob
liged to indemnify the owners of the merchan
dise lost, because he sees them in need ; it
may be supposed, indeed, that these parties are
rich, and, although their present loss is extreme,
they will nevertheless be under the obligation
of returning what would then have been lent
to them ; for, as the doctors decide, there is no
obligation of giving to the rich man when he
Buffers a heavy loss, when a loan will answer
the same end. But it is said that the obliga
tion of the master of a ship is founded on the
fact, that all the passengers and the proprietors
aeing interested in saving their lives and their
property, the risk and the loss of what was
brown overboard ought to fall on all, and not
exclusively on the owners of what was lost. As
a proof that this is the correct interpretation, it
will be sufficient to notice the summary of the
title, and the very words of the law, which are :
Eo quod id tributum servatce mercedes deberent.
" But, except in this case, or in others equally
pressing, if the ruin of the State would not
result from the mere fact of an individual
lefusing to yield up his house to the prince,
the latter could not compel the proprietor to
give it up for a less price than its just value,
and still less for nothing ; for so long as the
persons and the property of the State are safe,
it is of no importance to the body corporate
whether such or such persons are rich or poor ;
no one, in fact, in the general community pos
sesses a fixed degree from which he can neither
descend nor rise. This instability observable
Among the members of the same State, some
losing what others gain, and vice versa, is in
separable from the state of society, such is the
instability of temporal affairs; and the public
good generally sneaking, neither loses nor
gains by it."

NOTE 39, p. 382.

Some persons imagine, that in speaking 01
the loss of liberty in Spain, the question m»j
be readily reduced to one point of view, aa if
the kingdom had always possessed the unity
which it only acquired in the eighteenth cca-
tury, and only then in an incomplete manner.
A perusal of history, and especially of the
codes of the different provinces of which the
monarchy was composed, will convince us that
the central power has been created and fortified
among us very slowly; and that at the time
when this difficult task was nearly accomplished
in Castile, much still remained to be done in
Aragon and Catalonia. Our constitutions, oui
customs, our manners, in the seventeenth cen
tury, evidently prove that the monarchy of
Philip II., such as we conceive it, strong and
irresistible, was not yet established in the
crown of Aragcn. I will abstain from adducing
liere documents and quoting facts with which
every one is acquainted; the dimensions of
this volume require me to be brief.

NOTE 40, p. 388.

The immortal work of Count de Maistre, in
which he so ably refutes the calumnies of the
enemies of the Apostolic See, is well known.
Among so many and such profound observa
tions, there is one deserving of particular atten
tion : that on the moderation of the Popes in
every thing relating to the extension of their
dominions, when he points out the difference
between the Roman and the other European
Courts. "It is," says he, "a very remarkable
circumstance, but either disregarded or not
sufficiently attended to, that the Popes hare
never taken advantage of the great power in
their possession for the aggrandisement of their
States. What could have been more natural,
Tor instance, or more tempting to human na
ture, than to reserve a portion of the provinces
conquered from the Saracens, and which they
;ave up to the first occupant, to repel the
Turkish ascendency, always on the increase?
But this, however, they never did, not even
with regard to the adjacent countries, as in the
"nstance of the Two Sicilies, to which they had
ncontestable rights, at least according to the
deas then prevailing, and over which they
were nevertheless contented with an empty
sovereignty, which soon ended in the haquenee,
i slight tribute, and merely nominal, which
;he bad taste of the age still disputes with
hem.

"The Popes may have made too much, at the
ime, of this universal sovereignty, which an
pinion equally universal allowed them. The*
may have exacted homage ; may indeed, if yoo
rill, have too arbitrarily imposed taxes. I do
ot wish to enter into these points here, hut it
still remains certain that they have never
sought to increase their dominions at the ex-
icnse of justice, whilst all other governments
fell under this anathema ; and, at the present
time even, with all our philosophy, our civili
zation, and our fine books, there is not perhapi
one of the European powers in a condition to
justify all its possessions before God and rea
son." (Du Pape, book ii. <',hap. 6.)

NOTES-

485

NOT* 41, p. 350.

i wni here insert some passages in which St.
Ansei n explains the motives that induced him
X) wr.te, and the method which he intended to
follow in his writings.

Prce/atio beati Anselmi Episcopi Cantuariensit
in Monologuium.

Quidam fratres saepe me studioseque precati

•unt, ut quaedam de illis, quae de meditanda di-

rinitatis essentia, et quibusdam aliis hujus

meditationi cohserentibus, usitato sermone col-

'oquend: protuleram, sub quodam eis medita-

tionis exemplo describerem. Cujus scilicet

Bcribendas meditationis magis secundum suam

voluntatem quam secundum rei facilitatem aut

meam possibilitatem hanc mihi formam prae-

etituerunt : quatenus auctoritate scripturae peni-

tus nihil in ea persuaderetur. Sed quidquid

per singulas investigationes finis assereret, id

ita esse piano stylo et vulgaribus argumentis

simplicique disputatione, et rationis necessitas

breviter cogeret, et veritatis claritas patenter

ostenderet. Voluerunt etiam ut nee simplicibus

peneque fatuis objectionibus mihi occurrentibus

obviare contemnerem, quod quidem diu tentarc

recusavi, atque me cum re ipsa comparans

multis me rationibus excusare tentavi. Quant(

enim id quod petebant, usu sibi optabant faci

lius : tanto mihi illud actu injungebant difiici

lius. Tandem tamen victus, turn precum

mode.-ta importunitate, turn studii eorum non

contemnendahonestate, invitus quidem propter

rei difficultatem, et ingenii mei imbecillitatem

quod precabantur inciwpi, sed libenter propte

3orum caritatem, quantum potui secundum

ipsorum definitionem effeci. Ad quod cum es

spe sim adductus, ut quidquM facerem illi

solis a quibus exigebatur, esset notum, et paul

post idipsum ut vilern rem fastidientibus, con

temptu esset obruendum, scio enim me in e

non tarn precantibus satisfacere potuisse, quan

precibus me prosequentibus finetn posuisse

Nescio tamen quomodo sic praeter spem eveni

ut non solurn praedicti fratres sed et plures al

ecripturam ipsam, quisque earn sibi transcri

bendo in longum memoriae commendare sata

gerent, quam ego saepe tractans nihil poti

invenire me in ea dixisse, quod non catholi

corum patrum, et maxime beati Augustir

scriptis cohaereat.

Idem. Quod hoc licet inexplicabile sit, tamen
credendum sit. (Cap. Ixii.)

Videtur mihi hujus tarn sublimis rei secretum
transcendere omijem intellectus aciem human"
et idcirco conatum explicandi qualiter hoc si
continendum puto. Sufficere namque debe
existimo rem incomprehensibilem indaganti
ad hoc rationando pervenerit, ut earn certissim
esse cognoscat, etiamsi ponetrare nequeat inte
lectu quomodo ita sit, nee idcirco minus his a
hibendam fidei certitudinem, quae probationibi
necessariis nulla alia repugnante ratione ass
runtur, si suae naturalis altitudinis incompr
hensibilitate explicari non patiantur. Qui
autem tarn incomprehensibile, quam id quod
Bupra ornnii est? Quapropter si ea quse de
lua essentia hactonu; iisputata sunt necessariis

2

ationibus rant asserta, quainvis sic intellect*
enetrari aon possint ul quae verbis valeant
xplicari : nullatenus tameu certitudinis eoruna
utat soliditas. Nam si superior consideratio
tionabiliter comprehendit incomprehensibile
sse, quomodo eadem summa sapientia sciat ea
use fecit de quibus tarn multa non scire ne-
esse est; quis explicet quomodo sciat aut
icat so ipsam, de qua aut nihil, aut vix al^vaia
omini sciri possibile est?

Ineipit procemiurn in Prosologuion librum
insehni, Abbatis Beccensis, et Archiepiscopl
!antuariensis.

Postquam opusculum quoddam velut exem-
lum nieditandi de ratione fidei, cogentibua
ne precibus quorumdam fratrum in persona
licujns tacite secum ratiocinanclo quae nesciat
nvestigantis edidi, considerans illud esse mul-
orum concathenatione contextuin argumen-
orum, coepi mecum quaerere : si forte posset
nvenire unum argumentum, quod nullo alio ad
e probandum, quam se solo indigeret, et solum
ad astruendum quia Deus vere est; et quia est
ummum bonum nullo alio indigens, et quo
Dmnia indigent ut sint et bene sint, et quae-
umque credimus de divina substantia suffi-
eret. Ad quod cum saepe studioseque cogita-
iones converterem, atque aliquando mihi
videretur jam capi posse quod quaerebam, ali
quando mentis aciem omnino fugeret : tandciA
desperans volui cessare, velut ab inquisitiono
rei quam inveniri esset impossibile. Sed cum
illam cogitationem, ne mentem meam frustra
occupando ab aliis in quibus proficere possem
impediret, penitus a me vellem excludere, tune
magis ac magis nolenti et defendenti, se cospit
cum importunitate quadam ingerere. Quadam
igitur die cum vehementer ejus irnportunitati
resistendo fatigarer, in ipso cogitationum con-
flictu sic se obtulit quod desperabam, ut stu-
diose cogitationem amplecterer, quam sollicitus
repellebam. ^Estimans igitur quod me gaude-
bam invenisse, si scriptum esset alicui, legenti
placiturum. De hoc ipso et quibusdam aliia
sub persona conantis erigere mentem suara ad
contemplandum Deum, et quaerentis intelligere
quod credit, subditum scrips! opusculum. Et
quoniarnnec istud nee illud cujus supra meuiini,
dignum libri nomine, aut cui auctoris praeppne-
retur nomen judicabam : nee tamen sine aliquo
titulo, quo aliquem in cujus manus venirent,
quodammodo ad se legendum invitarent, dimit-
tenda putabam, unicuique dedi titulum : ut
prius exemplum meditandi de ratione fidei, et
sequens fides quacrens intellectum diceretur.
Sed cum jam a pluribus et his titulis utrumque
transumptum esset, coegerunt me plures et
maxime reverendus Archiepiscopus Lugdun-
ensis Hugo nomine, fungens in Gallia legatione
apostolica, proecepit auctoritate, ut nomen
meum illis pnescriberem. Quod ut aptius fieret
illud quidem Monologuium, id est Solilcquium,
istud vero Prosologuion, id est

I have said that St. Anselm excelled Des
cartes in his manner of proving the existence
of God: let the reader, indeed, peruse the fol
lowing passages. I do not, however, intend t«
pronounce an opinion on the merits of thii
demonstration ; my business is, to notice th«
progress of the human mind, and not to rosoir»

I philosophical question*.

Q2

486

NOTES.

PR080LOGUI01T D. ANSELMI.
Quod Deus non possit cogitari non ease.

Quod utique sic vere est, ut nee cogitari
possit non esse. Nam potest cogitari esse
aliquid, quod non possit cogitari non esse, quod
majus est quam quod non esse cogitari potest.
Quare si id, quo majus nequit cogitari, potest
cogitari non esse : id ipsum, quo majus cogitari
Bequit, non est id quo majus cogitari nequit ;
juod convenire non potast. Sic ergo vere est
aliquid, quo majus cogitari non potest, ut nee
cogitari possit non esse. Et hoc es tu, Domine
Deus noster. Sic ergo vere es, Domine Deus
meus, ut nee cogitari possis non esse. Et me-
rito. Si enirn aliqua mens posset cogitare ali
quid inelius te, ascenderet creatura super Crea-
torem; et judicaret de Creatore, quod valde
e.it absurdum. Et quidem quidquid est aliud
prater solum te, potest cogitari non esse.
Solus igitur verissime omnium, et ideo maxime
omnium babes esse, quia quidquid aliud est
non sic vere est, et idcirco minus habet esse.
Cur itaque, dixit insipiens in corde suo non eat
Dens ? Cum causa in promptu sit rationali
menti, te maxime omnium esse? Cur, nisi
Btultus et insipiens?

Qnomodo insipiens dixit in corde suo quod cogi
tari non potest. (Cap. iv.)

Verum quomodo dixit insipicns in corde suo
quod cogitare non potuit, aut quomodo cogitare
non potuit quod dixit in corde, cum idem sit
dicere in corde, et cogitare. Quod si vere, imo
quia vere, et cogitavit: quia dixit in corde et
non dixit in corde, quia cogitare non potuit;
non uno tantum modo dicitur aliquid in corde
vel cogitatur. Aliter enim cogitatur res, cum
vox earn significans cogitatur : aliter cum
idipsum, quod res est, intelligitur. Illo itaque
modo, potest cogitari Deus non esse : isto vero,
minime. Nullus quippe intelligens id quod
Deus est, potest cogitare quia Deus non est;
licet haec verba dicat in corde, aut sine ulla,
aut cum aliqua extranea significatione. Deus
enim, est id quo majus cogitari non potest.
Quod qui bene intelligit, utique intelligit id
ipsum sic esse, ut nee cogitatione queat non
esse. Qui ergo intelligit sic esse Deum, nequit
eum non esse cogitare. Gratias tibi, bone
Domine, gratias tibi, quia quod prius credidi
te donante, jam sic intelligo te illuminante ;
at si te esse nolim credere, non possim non
intelligere.

Ejusdem beati Anselmi liber pro insipiente
incipit.

Dubitanti, utrum sit; vel neganti quod sit
aliqua talis natura, qua nihil majus cogitari
possit; tamen esse illam, huic dicitur primo
probari; quod ipse negans vel arnbigens de
ilia, jam habeat earn in intellectu, cum audiens
illam dici, id quod dicitur intelligit: deinde,
quia quod intelligit necesse est, ut non in solo
intellectu, sed etiam in re sit. Et hoc ita pro-
oatur; quia majus est esse in intellectu et in
•e, quam in solo intellectu. Et si illud in solo
est intellectu, majus illo erit quidquid etiam
fuerit in re, at si majus omnibus, minus erit
aliquo, et non erit majus omnibus quod utique
repugnat Et ideo necesse est ut, majus omni
bus, qu-.d est jam probatum esse in intellectu,

et in re sit; quoniam aliter majua oinnlbni eiM

non poterit. Responded potest, quod hoc j»n.
esse dicitnr in intellectu meo, non ob aliud,
nisi quia id quod dicitur intelligo.

The passages I have, just quoted will hare
shewn to my readers that thought was not op
pressed in the Catholic Church. The most
eminent doctors were accustomed to reason on
the most important subjects with a just and
reasonable independence; and although Tritk
profound respect for the teaching of the Catho
lic Church, thty nevertheless surveyed, as well*
as Abelard and better, the field of true phi
losophy. We cannot expect from human in
telligence at this epoch more than is to be
found in St. Anselm. How is it, therefore,
that such eulogiums have been passed upon
Roscelin and Abelard, without ever mentioning
this holy doctor? Why present a picture of
the intellectual movement so incomplete, and
not insert in it so noble and beautiful a figure?

If you would know how incorrect it is that
Abelard, as M. Guizot affirms, abstained from
attacking the doctrines of the Church — how in
correct M. Guizot is in his statement of the
causes which excited the zeal of the pastors of
the Church against Abelard, read the letter of
the Bishops of Gaul to Pope Innocent, in which
you will find a complete recital of the origin
and cause of this important affair. Here is the
letter:

EPISTOLA CCCLXX.

Beverendietimo Patri et Domino, INNOCENTIO,
Dei gratia summo Pontifici, Henricus Seno-
nensium Archiepiscopus, Carnotensis Episco-
pus, Sanctce Sedis Apostolicce famulus, Aure-
lianensis, Antissiodorensis, Trecensis, Melden-
sis Episcopi, devotas orationes et debitam
obedientiam.

Nulli dubium est quod ea quae Apostolica fir-
mantur auctoritate, rata semper existunt; nee
alicujus possunt deinceps mutilari cavillatione,
vel invidia depravari. Ea propter ad vestram
Apostolicam Sedem, Beatissime Pater, referre
dignum censuimus quasdam quae nuper in nos-
tra contigit tractari praesentia. Quae quoniam
et nobis, et multis religiosis ac sapientibus viris
rationabiliter acta visa sunt, vestrae serenitatis
expectant comprobari judicio, simul et auctori-
;ate perpetuo roborari. Itaque cum per totarn
'ere Galliam in civitatibus, vicis, et castellis, a
Scholaribus non solum intra Scholas, sed etiam
triviatim : nee a litteratis, aut provectis tantum.
sed a pueris et simplicibus, aut certe stultis, de
Sancta Trinitate, quae Deus est, disputaretur:
"nsuper alia rnulta ab eisdem, absona prorsus et
ibsurda, et plane fidei catholicas, sanctorumque
Patrum auctoritatibus obviantia proferrentur;
cumque ab his qui sane sentiebant, et eas in-
eptias rejiciendas esse censebant, saepius admo-
niti corriperentur, vehementius convalescebant,
et auctoritate magistri sui Petri Abailardi, et
cujusdam ipsius libri, cui Theologize indiderat
nomen ; nee non et aliorum ejusdem opusculo-
rum freti ad astruendas profanas adinventionea
lias, non sine multarum animarum dispendio,
sese magis ac magis armabant. Quae enim et
nos, et alios plures non parum moverant M
aeserant; inde tamen quaestionem facere vere-
)antur.

Verum Dominus Abbas CJarae-vallis, his a di

NOTES.

487

rervli *t ssepius auditis, immo cer^ in prae-
taxato magistri Petri Theologize libro, nee non
at aliis ejusdem libris, in quorum forte lectionein
inciderat, diligenter inspeclis; secreto prius;
ac deinde secum duobus aut tribus adhibitis
testibus, juxta Evangelicuin praeceptum, hoi
nem convenit : Et ut auditores suos a tali bus
compesceret, librosque suos corrigeret, amicahi-
liter satis ac fainiliariter ilium adinonuit. Plure
etiam Scholarium adhortatus est, ut et libros
venenis plenos repudiarent et rejicerent: et a
doctrina, qiue fidera lajdebat Catholicam, cave-
rent et abstinerent. Quod magister Petrus mi
nus patienter et nimium segre ferens, crebro nos
pulsare coepit, nee ante voluit desistere, quoad
Doniinum Clara- vellensem Abbatem super hoc
scribentcs, assignato die, scilicet octavo Pente-
uostes, Senonis ante nostram submonuimus ve
nire proesentiam : quo se vocabat et oiferebat
p.nratum magister Petrus ad probandas et defen-
dendas de quibus ilium Dominus Abbas Clara-
vallensis, quomodo praotaxatum est, reprehende-
rat sententias. Creterum Dominus Abbas, nee
ad assignatum diem se venturum, nee contra
Petrum sese disceptaturum nobis remandavit.
Bed quia magister Petrus interim suos nihilo-
minus coepit undequaque convocare discipulos;
et obsecrare, ut :}d futuram inter se, Dominum-
que Abbatem Clara-vallenaem disputationem,
una cum illo suam sententiam simul et scienti-
am defensuri venirent; Et hoc Dominum Clara-
vallensem minime lateret; veritus ipse, ne prop-
ter occasionem absentiae suae tot profanse, non
sententiae sed insaniaa, tarn apud minus intelli-
gentes, quam eariundem defensores majore
dignae viderenturauctoritate, proedicto quern sibi
designaverainus die, licet cum minime suscep-
isset, tactus zelo pii fervoris, imo certe Sancti
Spiritus igne succensus, sese nobis ultro Senonis
praesentavit. Ilia vero die, scilicet octava Pente-
costes, convenerant ad nos Senonis Fratres et
Suffraganei nostri Episcopi, ob honorem et reve-
rentiam sanctarum, quas in Ecclesia nostra po-
pulo revelaturos nos indixeramus, Reliquiarum.
Itaque prassente glorioso Rege Francorum
Ludovico cum Wilhelmo religioso Nivernis Co-
mite, Domino quoque llhemensi Archiepiscopo,
cum quibusdam suis suffraganeis Episcopis no
bis etiam, et suffraganeis nostris, exceptis Pa-
risiis ot Nivernis, Episcopis praesentibus, cum
multis religiosis Abbatibus et sapientibus, val-
deque litteratis clericis adfuit Dominus Abbas
Clara- vallensis; adfuit magister Petrus cum
fautoribus suis. Quid multa? Dominus Abbas
cum librum Theologian magistri Petri proferret
in medium, et quao annotaverat absurdn. imo
hasretiea plane capitula de libro eodem propo-
neret, ut ea magister Petrus vel a se scripta ne-
garet, vel si sua fateretur, aut probaret, aut
corrigeret: visus e*>t diffidere magister Petrus
Abailardus, et subterfugere, respondere noluit,
Bed quamvis libera sibi daretur audientia, tu-
tumque locum, et ajquos haberet judices. ad
vestram tamen, sanctissime Pater, appellans
prsesentiam, cum suis a conventu discessit.

Nos autem licet appellatio ista, minus Ca-
nonica videretur, Sedi tamen Apostolicse defe-
rentes, in personam hominis nullam voluirnus
proferre sententiam : Caeterum sententias pravi
doginatis ipsius, quia multo infecerant, et sui
contagione adusque cordium intima penetrave-
rant, saepe in audientia publica lectas et re-
lectas, et tarn verissimis rationibus, quam Beati
Augustini, tliorumque Sanctorum Patrum in-

ductis a DoiniiiO Jh-ra- eallensi auctoritatibu*,
non solum falsas, sed et haireticas esse eTi-
dentissime comprobatas, pridie ante factam ad
vos appellationem damnaviums. Et quia multoi
in errorem perniciosissiuium et plane damna-
bilem pertrahunt, eas auctoritate vestra, di-
lectissime Doinine, perpetua damnatione notari ;
et omnes qui pervicaciUjr et contentiose illai
defenderint, a vobis, aiquissime Pater, juxt»
poena mulctari unanimiter °t imilta precum
instantia postulamus.

Sn?pe dicto vero Petro, si Reverentia vestra
silentium imponeret, et turn legendi, quaui scri-
bendi prorsus interrumperet facultatom, et li-
bros ejus perverso sine dubio dogmate respersofl
condeninaret, avulsis spinis et tribulis ab Eccle-
sia Dei, prevaleret adhuc la'ta Christi seges suc-
crescere, flcrerc, fructificare. Quicdam auteua
de condemnatis a nobis capitulis vobis, Keve-
rende Pater, conscripta transmisimus, ut per
haac audita reliqui corpus operis facilius iesti
metis.

Observe how St Bernard explains the system
and errors Of the celebrated Abelard. In chap
ter 1 of the treatise which he wrote, De errori
bus Petri Abuilctidi, he says :

" Habemus in Francia novum de veteri magis-
tro Theologum, qui ab ineunte a;tate sua in
arte dialectics lusit ; et nunc in scripturis sanctis
insanit. Olim damnata et sopita dogmata, tarn
sua videlicet quam aliena suscitare conatur, in-
super et nova addit. Qui dum omnium quse
sunt coelo sursum, et quoa in terra deorsum,
nihil praster solum Nescio nescire dignaturj
ponit in coelum os suum, et scrutatur alta Dei,
rediensque ad nos refert verba ineffabilia, quae
non licet homini loqui. Et dum paratus est de
omnibus reddere rationem, etiam qua} sunt
supra rationem, et contra rationem pra^sumit,
et contra fidem. Quid eniru magis contra ratio
nem, quam ratione rationem conari transcen-
dere 1 Et quid magis contra fidem; quam cre
dere nolle, quidquid non possit ratione at tin -
gere ?"

In chapter 4, he sums up, in a few *vords,
the aberrations of the dialectician :

" Sed advertite ccetera. Omitto quod dicit
spiritum timoris Domini non fuisse in Domino :
timorem Domini castum in futuro seculo non
futurum : post consecrationem panis et calicis
prioraaccidentiaqua; remanent pendere in acre:
daemonum in nobis suggestiones contactu fieri
lapidum et herbarum, prout illorum sagax ma-
litia novit; harum rerum vires diversas, diver-
sis incitandis et incendendis vitiis, convenire:
Spiritum Sanctum esse animam mundi : mun-
dum juxta Platonem tanto excellentius animal
esse, quanto meliorem animam habet Spiritual
Sanctum. Ubi dum multum sudat quomodo
Platonem faciat Christianum, se probat ethni-
um. Haec inquam oinnia, aliasque istiusmodi
naanias ejus non paucas prastereo, venio ad
graviora. Non quod vel ad ipsa cuncta re-
Bpondeam, magnis enim opus voluminibus esaet.
Ilia loquor quas tacere non pospum.

"Cum de Trinitate loquitur," says he in hit
etter 192, "sapit Arium, cum de Gratia eapit
Pelagium, cum de persona Christi eapit Ne§-
torium."

Pope Innocent, condemning the doctrines of
Abelard, says : " In Petri Abailardi pernicioM
doctrina, et praedictorum haereses, et alia per-
versa dogmata catholicae fidei obviantia pulln-
"are coaperunt."

APPENDIX.

NOT* (a), p. 289.

Quod necesse est homines simul viventes ab
aliquo diligenter regi.

Et siquidem homini conveniret singulariter
rivere, sicut multis animalium, nullo alio diri-
gente indigeret ad fineiu, sed ipse sibi unus-
quisque esset rex sub Deo summo rege, in
quantum per lumen rationis divinitus datum
sibi, in suis actibus seipsum dirigeret. Natu-
rale autem est bomini ut sit animal sociale, et
politicum, in multitudine vivens, magis etiam
quam omnia alia animalia; quod quidera natu-
ralis necessitas declarat. Aliis enim animalibus
natura praeparavit cibum, tegumenta pilorum,
defensionem, ut dentes, cornua, ungues, vel
saltern velocitatem ad fugam. Homo autem
institutus est nullo horum sibi a natura praepa-
rato, sed loco omnium data est ei ratio, per
quam sibi hzec omnia officio tuanuum posset prae-
parare, ad qune omnia praeparanda unus homo
non sufficit. Nam unus homo per se sufficienter
vitam transigere non posset. Est igitur homini
naturale, quod in societate multorum vivat.
Amplius, aliis animalibus insita est naturalis
industria ad omnia ea qua? sunt eis utilia vel
nociva, sicut ovis naturaliter extimet lupum
inimicum. Quaedam etiam animalia ex natu-
rali industria cognoscunt aliquas herbas medi-
cinales, et alia eorum vitae necessaria. Homo
autem horum, quse sunt suae vitae necessaria,
iiaturalein cognitionem habet solum in com-
rnuni, quasi eo per rationem valente ex uni-
versalibus principiis ad cognitionem singulo-
rum, quae necessaria sunt humanae vitas, per-
venire. Non est autem possibile, quod unus
homo ad omnia hujusmodi per suam rationem
pertingat. Est igitur necessarium homini, quod
in multitudine vivat, et unus ab alio adjuvetur,
•ft diversi diversis inveniendis per rationem

ccuparentur, puta, unus in medicina, alius in
. ,oc, alius in alio. Hoc etiam evidentissime
declarator per hoc, quod est proprium hominis
locutione uti, per quam unus homo aliis suum
3onceptum totaliter potest exprimere. Alia
quidem animalia exprimunt mutuo passiones
suas, in communi, ut canis in latratu iram, et
alia animalia passiones suas diversis modis.
Magis igitur homo est communicativus alteri,
quam quodcumque aliud animal, quod gregale
videtur, ut grus, formica, et apis. Hoc ergo
considerans Salomon in Ecclesiaste ait: "Me-
lius est esse duos, quam unurn. Habent enim
emolumentum mutuae societatis." Si ergo natu
rale est homini quod in societate multorum
vivat, necesse est in hominibus esse, per quod
multitude regatur. Multis enim existentibus
hominibus et uno quoque id quod est sibi con-
gruum providente, multitude in diversa disper-
geretur, nisi etiam esset aliquis de eo quod ad
bonurn multitudinis pertinet, curam habens,
sicut et corpus hominis, et cujuslibet animalis
deflueret, nisi esset aliqua vis regitiva commu-
nis in corpore, quae ad bonum commune om-

txiuni m einbrorum intenderet Quod considers ns
' 488

Salomon dicit : " Ubi non est gutarnutoi, dissi-
pabitur populus." Hoc autem rationabilitoi
accidit : non enim idem est quod propium, el
quod commune. Secundum propria quidem"
differunt, secundum autem commune uniuntur.
diversorum autem diversae suntcausae. Oportet
igitur praeter id quod movet ad propium bonum
uniuscujusque, esse aliquid, quod movet ad
bonum commune multorum. Propter quod et
in omnibus quae in unum ordinantur, aliquid
invenitur alterius regitivum. In universitate
enim corporum, per primurn corpus, scilicet
celeste, alia corpora ordine quodam divinae pro-
videntiae reguntur, omniaque corpora, per crea-
turam rationalem. In uno etiam homine anima
regit corpus, atque inter animae partes irascibilia
et concupiscibilis ratione reguntur. Itemque
inter membra corporis unum est principale,
quod omnia movet, ut cor, aut caput. Oportet
igitur esse in omni multitudine aliquod regiti
vum. (I). Th., Opusc. de Regimine Principum,
1. i. cap. 1.)

NOTE (6), p. 290.

Ubi considerandum esA, quod dominium, veJ
prselatio introducta sunt ex jure humano : dis-
tinctio autem fidelium et infidelium est ex jure
divino. Jus autem divinum quod est ex gratia,
non tollit jus humanum quod est ex natural!
ratione ; ideo distinctio fidelium et infidelium
secundum se considerata, non tollit dominium,
et praelationem infidelium supra fideles. (2. 2.
quest. 10, art 10.)

NOTE (c), p. 290.

Respondeo dicendum quod sicut supra dictum
est (quest. 10, ark 10), infidelitas secundum se
ipsam non repugnat dorninio, eo quod domi
nium introductum est de jure gentium, qnod
est jus humanum, Distinctio autem fidelium
et infidelium est secundum jus divinum, per
quod non tollitur jus humanum. (2. 2. quest.
12, art 2.)

NOTE (d), p. 290.

Respocdeo dicendum quod sicut actionei
rerum naturalium procedunt ex potentiis natnr-
alibus : ita etiam operationes humanae proce
dunt ex humana voluntate. Oportuit autem in
rebus naturalibus, ut superiora moverent infe-
riora ad suas actiones per excellentiam natu
ralis virtutis collatse divinitus. Unde et oportet
in rebus humanis, quod superiores moveant in-
feriores per suam voluntatem ex vi auctoritatLl
divinitus ordinatae. Movere autem per rationem
et voluntatem est prsecipere ; et ideo sicut e*
ipso ordine naturali divinitus instituto inferiora
in rebus naturalibus necesse habent subjici
motioni superiorum, ita etiam in rebus *mm nil
ex ordine juris naturalis et divini, t«n« tM
inferiores suis superioribus obedire- (1 1
quest. 105, art. 1.)

APPENDIX.

489

NOTE(«), p. 291.

Obedire autcin superior) debitum eat secun-
iom divinim ordinem rebus inditum ut osten-
rom est. (2. 2. quest 104, art. 2.)

NOTE (/), p. 291.

Respondeo dicendum quod fides Christi est
jnstitiae principium, et causa, secundum illud
Rom. iii. " Justitia Dei per fidem Jesu Christi;"
at ideo per fidem Christi non tollitur ordo jus-
dtiae sed magis firmatur. Ordo autem justitiaa
requirit, ut inferiores suis superioribus obediant :
aliter enim non posset humanarum rerum status
conservari. Et ideo per fidem Christi non ex-
cusantur fideles, quin principibus secularibus
obedire teneantur. (2. 2. quest. 105, art. 6.)

NOTB (g), p. 291.

Certum est politicam potestatem a Deo esse a
quo non nisi res bonae et licitae procedunt, et
quod probat Aug. in toto fere 4 et 5 libr. de
Civit. Dei. Nam sapientia Dei clamat, Pro
verb, viii. : Per me reges regnant; et infra:
Per me principes imperant. Et Daniel ii. :
Deus coeli regnum et imperium dedit tibi, <ko. ;
et Daniel iv. : Cum bestiis ferisque erit habi-
tatio tua, et fenum, ut bos comedes, et rore coeli
infunderis : septem quoque tempora mutabuntur
super te, donee scias quod dominetur Excelsus
super regnum hominum, et cuicumque voluerit,
det illud. (Bell, de Laicis, 1. iii. c. 6.)

NOTE (A), p. 291.

Sed hie observanda sunt aliqua. Primo poli-
.icam potestatem in universum consideratam,
ion descendendo in particulari ad monarchiam,
tristocratiam, vel dcmocratiam immediate esse
k solo Deo ; nam consequitur necessario natu-
ram hominis, proinde esse ab illo, qui fecit
naturam hominis; praeterea hsec potestas est
de jure naturae, non enim pendet ex consensu
hominum, nam velint, nolint, debent regi ab
iliquo, nisi velint perire humanum genus, quod
est contra naturae inclinationem. At jus naturae
est jus divinum, jure igitur divino introducta
est gubernatio, et hoc videtur proprie velle
Apostolus, cum dicit Rom. xiii : Qui potestati
resistit, Dei ordinationi resistit (Ib.)

NOTE (t), p. 292.

Becundo nota, hanc potestatem immediate
esse tanquam in subjecto, in tota multitudine,
nam hsec potestas est de jure divino. At jus
divinum nulli hornini particulari dedit hanc
potestatem, ergo dedit multitudini; prseterea
sublato jure positive, non est major ratio cur
ex multis aequalibus unus potius, quam alius
dominetur : igitur potestas totius est multitu-
dinis. Denique humana societas debet esse
perfecta respublica, ergo debet habere potesta
tem ee ipsam conservandi, et proinde puniendi
pertorbatores pacis, Ac. (Ib.)

KUTE (&), p. 293.

Tertio nota, b . . potestakm transferri a mul-
Jtudine in umun **l plures eodom jure naturae :
62

nam Respub. non potest per eelpsam exeroer*
hanc potestatem, ergo tenetur earn transferre in
aliquem unum vel aliquos paucos ; et hoc mode
potestas principum in genere conside-ata, est
etiam de jure naturae, et divino; nee posset
genus humanum, etiamsi totum simul conyeni-
ret, contrarium statuere, nim iruni, ut nulli esseut
principes vel rectores. (Ib.)

NOTE (/), p. 293.

Quarto nota, in particulari singulas specie!
regiminis esse de jure gentium, non de jure
naturae; nam pendet a consensu multitudinia,
constituere super se regem vel consules, vel
alios magistratus, ut patet : et si causa legitima
adsit, potest multitude mutare regnum in aristo-
cratiam, aut democratiam, et e contrario at
Romaa factum legimus.

Quinto nota, ex dictis sequi, hanc potestatam
in particulari esse quidem a Deo, sed mediante
consilio, et electione humana, ut alia omnia,
quas ad jus gentium pertinent, jus enim gentium
est quasi conclusio deducta ex jure naturae per
humanum discursum. Ex quo colliguntur duaj
differentiae inter potestatem politicam, et eccle.
siasticam: una ex parte subjecti, nam politic*
est in multitudine, ecclesiastica in uno homine
tanquam in subjecto immediate ; altera ex
parte efficients, quod politica universe con-
siderata est de jure divino, in particulari consi-
derata est xie jure gentium; ecclesiastica omni
bus modis est de jure divino, et immediate
a Deo. (Ib.)

NOTE (m), p. 294.

In hac re eommunis sententia videtur esse,
hanc potestatem dari immediate a Deo ut auo-
tore naturse, ita ut homines quasi disponant
materiam et efficiant subjectum capax hujua
potfstatis; Deus autem quasi tribuat forinam
dan do hanc potestatem. Cita a Cajet. Covar.
Victor, y Soto. (De Leg. 1. iii. c. 3.)

NOTE (n), p. 294.

Secundo sequitur ex edictis, potestatem oivi-
lem, quoties in uno homine, vel principe repe-
ritur, legitimo, ac ordinario jure, a populo, et
communitate manasse, vel proximo vel remote,
nee posse aliter haberi, ut justa sit. (Ibid,
cap. 4.)

NOTE (o), p. 294.

Defensio Fidei Catholicae et Apostolic8» ad-
versus Anglicanae sectas errores, cum respon-
sione ad apologiam pro juramento fidelitatis et
praefationem monitoriam serenissimi Jacob!
Angliaa Regis, Authore P. D. Francisco Suario
Gratanensi, e Societate Jesu, Sacrae TheologiaB
in celebri Conimbricensi Academia Primario
Professore, ad serenissimos totius Christian!
orbis Catholicos Reges ac Principes.

Lib. 3. De Primatu Summi Pontificie, ca|». 2.
Utrum Principatus politicus sit immediate A
Deo, seu ex divina institutione.

In qua rex serenissimus non gf 'uni

novo, et singular! modo opinatur, sed etiam
acriter invehitur in Cardinalem Bellarminmn,
eo quod asseruerit, non regibus authoritatCM •
Deo immediate, perinde ac pontificibus 9MN

490

APPENDIX.

eoncessam. Asgerit ergo ip»e, regem non a
populo, sed immediate a Deo suam potestatem
habere ; suain vero sententiam quibusdam argu-
mentis, et exeinplis suadere conatur, quorum
effieaciam in sequent! eapite expendemus.

Sed qnamquam controver#ia haec ad fidei doy-
matadirecte noit, pertineat (nihil enim ex diviiia
Scriptura, aut Patrum traditione in ilia defini-
tum ostendi potest), nihilominus diligenter tract-
anda, et explicanda est Turn quia potest esse
»coasio errandi in aliis doginatibus;,tum etiam
quia prasdicta regis sententia, prout ab ipso
asseritur et intenditur, nova et singularis est, et
ad exaggerandam temporalem potestatem, et
spiritualem extenuandam videtur inventa. Turn
denique quia sententiam illustrissimi Bellar-
mini antiquam, receptam, veram, ac neceasariam
esae cennemus.

NOTE (p), p. 295.

R. P. Hermanni Busembaum Societatis Jesu
Theologia Moral's, nunc pluribus partibus aucta
a It. P. D. Alphonso de Ligorio Rectore majore
congregationis SS. Redemptoris ; adjuncta in
calce operis, praeter indicem rerum, et verborum
locupletissimum, perutiliinstructione ad praxiin
coni'essariorium Latine reddita.

Lib. 1, Tract 2. De legibus, cap. 1. De na-
tura, et obligatione legis. Dub. 2.

104. Certum est dari in hominibus potestatem
ferendi leges ; sed potestas haec quoad leges
civiles a natura nemini competit, nisi commu-
nitati hominum, et ab hac transfertur in unum,
rel in plures, a quibus communitas regatur.

NOTE (q), p. 295.

Theologia Christiana Dogmatico-Moralis Auc-
tore P. F. Daniele Concina ordinis Praedicato-
rum. Editio novissima, tomus sextus, de Jure
nat. et gent., Ac. Romas, 1768.

Lib. 1. De Jure natur. et gent., Ac. Disser-
tatio 4, De leg. hum. C. 2.

Summae potestatis originem a Deo communi-
ter arcessunt scriptores omnes. Idque declara-
vit Salomon, Prov. viii. "Per me reges regnant,
ot legum conditores justa decernunt" Et pro-
fecto quemadniodum inferiores principes a
sumina majestate, ita summa majestas terrena a
supremo Rege, Dominoque dominantium pen-
deat necesse est. Illud in disputationem vocant
turn theologi, turn jurisconsulti, sit ne a Deo
proxime, an tantum remote haec potestas sum-
ma? Immediate a Deo haberi contendunt
plures, quod ab hominibus neque conjunctim,
neque sigillatim acceptis haberi possit. Omnes
enim patres familias aequales sunt, solaque
oeconomica in propias familias potestate fruun-
tur. Ergo civilem politicamque potestatem,
qua ipsi carent, conferre aliis nequeunt. Turn
si potestas summa a communitate, tanquam
a superiore, uni, aut pluribus collata esset, revo-
cari ad nutum ejusdem communitatis posset;
cum superior pro arbitrio retractare communi-
catarn potestatem valeat ; quod in Magnum so-
cietatis detrimentum recideret.

Contra disputant alii, et qnidem probabiliut
ac verius, advertentes omnem quidem potesta-
!iem a Deo esse; sed addunt, non transferri in
particulares homines immediate, sed mediante
sooietatis civilis consensu. Quod heec potestas
lit immediate, non in aliquo singulari, aed in

tota hominum collectione, docetccnieptisTerBll

S. Thomas 1. 2. qu. 90. art. 3 ad 2. et qu. 97

art. 3 ad 3 quern sequuntur Dominicus Soto,

lib. 1. qu. 1. art 3. Ledesma 2. Part. qu. 18. art.

I 3. Covarruvias in pract. cap. 1. Ratio evident

jest: quia omnes homines nascuntur liberi,

j respectu civilis imperil ; ergo nemo in alterun

' civili potestate potitur. Neque ergo ii. singu-

J lis, neque in aliquo determinato potestae haa*

I reperitur. Consequitur ergo in tota hominum

I collectione eamdem extare. Quae potestas non

I confertur a Deo per aliquam actionem pecu-

j liarem a creatione distinctam ; sed est veluti

proprietas ipsam rectam rationem consequens,

quatenus recta ratio pracscrihit ut homines in

unum moraliter congregati. »>.\presso aut tacito

concensu modum dirigend;i\ conservandae, pro-

pugnandaeque societatis prujscribant.

NOTE (r), p. 296.

Hinc infertur, potestatem residentem in prin-
cipe, rege, vel in pluribus, aut optimatibus, aut
plebeiis, ab ipsa communitate aut proxime, aut
remote proficisci. Nam potestas ha9C a Deo
immediate non est. Id enim nobis constare
peculiar! revelatione deberet; quemadmodum
scimus, Saulein et Davidem electos a Deo
fuisse. Ab ipsa ergo communitate dimanet
oportet

Falsam itaque reputamu? opinionem illam
quao asserit, potestatem hanc immediate et
proxime a Deo conferri regi, principi, et cuique
supremae potestati, excluso Reipublicaa tacito,
aut expresso consensu. Quamquam lis haeo
verborum potius quam rei est. Nam potestas
haec a Deo auctore naturae est, quatenus dispo-
euit, et ordinavitut ipsa Respublica pro societatis
conservatione, et defensione, uni, aut pluri
bus supremam regiminis potestatem conftrret.
Immo facta designatione imperantis, aut im-
perantium, potestas haec a Deo manare dicitnr,
quatenus jure naturali, et divino tenetur, socie-
tas ipsa parere imperanti. Quoniam reipsa
Deus ordinavit ut per unum, aut per plures
hominum societas regatur. Et hac vhr omnia
conciliantur placita: et oracula Scripturarunj
vero in sensu exponuntur. Qui resistit potes
tati, Dei ordinationi resistit. Et iterum : Non
est potestas nisi a Deo: ad Rom. viii. Et Pe-
trus Epist. 1, cap. ii. Subject! igitur estote
omni humanae creaturae propter Deum : sivo
Regi, Ac. Item Joan. xix. Non haberes po
testatem adv^rsum me ullam, nisi tibi datum
esset desuper. Quae, alia testimonia evincunt,
omnia a Deo, supremo rerum omnium modera-
tore, disponi, et ordinari. At non propterea
humana consilia, et operationes excluduntur;
ut sapienter interpretantur S. Augustinus tract.
6, in Joan, et lib. 22. cont. Faustum, cap. 47,
et S. Joannes Chrysostomus Horn. 23, in Epist.
ad Rom.

NOTE («), p. 296.

Quinain possint ferre leges ? Dico 1. Po
testas legislativa competit communita ti vel illi,
qui curam communitatis gerit. (Ibid. art. 3. 0.)

Prob. 1. Ex Isidore L. 5u Etymol. C. 10 el
refertur C. Lex, Dist. 4. ubi dicit : Lex est con-
stitutio populi, secundum quam majores nat*
simul cum plebibua aliauid sanxerunt (Ibid
in art 1. 0.)

APPENDIX.

451

Prob. 1. Ratione. (Toil. 0.) Illius est condere
iegem, cujus eat prospicere bono communi;
quia, ut dictum est, leges feruntur propter bo-
nuai commune : atqui est communis, vel illius,
eui curam communitatis hahet, prospicere bono
jommuni : sicut enim bonum particulars ost
finis proportionatus agenti particular!, ita bo-
oum commune est finis proportionatus commu-
nitati, vel ejus rices gerenti ; ergo. Confinna-
tur: (Ibid, ad 2.) lex habet viin iinperandi et
coercendi ; atqui nemo privatus habet vim iin-
perandi multitudini et earn coercendi, sed sola
ipsa multitudo, vel ejus Rector: ftrgo. (Tract.
de Legi. Art. 4.)

NOTE (t), p. 296.

Dices: Superioris est imperare et coercere;
stqui communitas non est sibi superior : Ergo
R. D. Min. Communitas, sub eodem respectu
considerata, non est sibi superior, C. Sub di-
verso respectu, N. Potest itaque comrnunitas
considerari collective, per moduin unius corpo-
ris moralis, et sic considerata est superior sibi
considerate distributive iu singulis membris.
Item potest considerari vel ut gerit vices Dei, a
quo omnis potestas legislativa descendit, juxta
illud Proverb. Per me reges regnant, et legum
conditrres justadecernunt ; vel ut est guberna-
bilis in ordine ad bonum commune : primo
modo considerata est superior et legislativa;
secundo modo considerata est inferior et legis
Busceptiva.

NOTE (w), p. 297.

Quod ut clarius percipiatur, observandum
est hominem inter animalia nasci maxime des-
titutum pluribus turn corporis cum animae ne-
cessariis, pro quibus indiget aliorum consortio
et adjutorio, consequenter eum ipsapte natura
nasci animal sociale: societas autem quaiu
natura, naturalisve ratio dictat ipsi necessariam,
diu eubsistere non potest, nisi aliqua publica
potestate gubernetur ; juxta illud Proverb. Ubi
non est gubernator, populus corruet. Ex quo
sequitur, quod Deus, qui dedit talem naturam,
simul ei dederit potestatem gubernativam et
legislativain, qui enim dat formam, dat etiam
ea, quae base forma necessario exigit Yerum,
quia haec potestas gubernativa et legislativa
non potest exerceri a tota multitudine ; difficile
namque foret, omnes et singulos simul conve-
nire toties quoties providendum est de necessa-
riis bono communi, et de legibus ferendis ; ideo
solet multitudo transferre suum jus sea potesta
tem gubernativam, vel in aliquos de populo ex
ornni conditione, et dicitur Democratia; vel in
paucos optimates, et dicitur Aristocratia; vel in
unum tantum, sive pro se solo, sive pro succes-
•oribus jure haareditario, et dicitur Monarchia.
Ex quo sequitur, omnein potestatem essea Deo,
at dicit Apost. Rom. xiii. immediate quidem et
jure naturae in communitate, mediate autem
tantum et jure humano in Regibus et aliis
Rectoribiu : tiai Deus ipiie immediate aliquibug

hanc potestatem conferat, ut contulit Moysi to
populum Israel, et Christus SS. Ponlifici in i*
tain Ecclesiam.

Hanc potestatem legislativam in Cbristiano*
majcimejustos, non agnoscnnt, Lutherani et Gal-
vinistat, secuti in hoc Valdcnses, Wicle/um, *t
Joan. Hus. damnatos in Cone. Constant. tess. ft
can. 15. Et quamvis Joannes Hut earn agnoi-
ceret in principibus bonis, earn tamen dcneget-
bat malis, pariter ideo damnatut in eodem
Condi, seas. 8.

NOTE (x), p. 297.

Compendium Salmatic. authore R. P. F. R,
Antonio a S. Joseph oliin Lectore, priore ac exa-
minatore Synodali in suo collegio Burgensif
nunc procuratore generali in Romana Curia prc
Carmelitarum Discalceatorum Hispanica Con
gregation e. ROUIOB, 1779. Superiorum per-
missu. Tractatus 3, De Legibus, cap. 2. De
potestate ferendi leges.

Punctum 1. De potestate legislativa civili.

Inq. 1. An detur in hominibus potestas con-
dendi leges civiles ? R. Affirm, oonstat ex illo
Prov. viii. Per me reges regnant, et legum con-
ditores justa decernunt. Idem patet ex Apost
ad Rom. xiii. et tanquam de fide est definitum
in Cone. Const sess. 8, et ultima. Prob. ration,
quia ad conservationem boni communis requiri-
tur publica potestas, qua communitas guberne
tur : nam ubi non est gubernator, corruet popa-
lus, sed nequid gubernator communitatem nisi
mediis legibus gubernare : ergo certum est dan
in hominibus potestatem condendi leges, quibus
populus possit gubernari. Ita D. Th. lib. i. de
regim. princip. c. 1 et 2.

Inq. 2. An potestas legislativa civilis conve-
niat principi immediate a Deo ? R. omnes asse-
runt dictam potestatem habere principes a Deo.
Verius tamen dicitur, non immediate sed medi-
ante populi consensu illain eos a Deo recipere.
Nam omnes homines sunt in natura aequales,
nee unus est superior, nee alius inferior ex na
tura, nulli enim dedit natura supra alterum
potestatem, sed heec a Deo data est hominum
communitati, quae judicans rectius fore guber-
nandum per unam vel per plures personas
determinatas, suam transtulit potestatem in
unam. vel plures, a quibus regeretur, ut ait D.
Th. 1. 2. q. 90. a. 3. ad. 2.

Ex hoc natural! principio oritur discrimen
regiminis civilis. Nam si Respublica transtulit
omnem suam potestatem in unum solum, appel-
latur Regimen Monarchicum ; si illam contulit
Optimatibus populi, nuncupatur Regimen Aris-
tocraticumj si vero populus, aut Respublica
sibi retineat talem potestatem, dicitur Regimen
Democraticum. Habent igitur Principes re-
gendi potestatem a Deo, quia suppcsita elec
tion e a Republica facta, Deus illam pc testa tem,
quaa in communitate erat, Principi confert.
Undo ipse nomine Dei regit, et gubernat, et qui
illi resistit, Dei ordinationi resistit, at dioi.
Apost. loco supra laudato.

[ ]\ D E X

a mem* -iiu t»ueni «d khe siege of
Pails, Ul.

Vbelard, account of. idl ; erro" of M Guizot
with regard to hini, *02; aoct-fnetiw proving
this, 486.

Abuses, checked by the Church, 422.

Adernar, his chronicle, 24i.

Adon, Archbishop of Vienne — his work oa
universal history, 241.

Adrian (Pope) protects the man iages of slaves,
113; his doctrine on the right of elavea to
marry, 113.

Agde, Councils of, 103; ibid, decree against
those who refused to be reconciled, 176.

Aix-la-Chapelle, Council of, enjoins bishops to
found hospitals to contain all the poor that
their revenues can support, 188.

Albigenses described, 252.

Alphonsus (of Ligouri;, on power of making
laws, 295.

Amat (Don Felix,), his false political theory,
333; ibid, on resistance to government, 471.

Ambrose (St.), conduct of towards the Em
peror Theodosius, 178; sells the sacred ves
sels to redeem slaves, 432.

Anabaptists, excesses committed by, in Ger
many in the 16th century, 197.

Angers, Council of, its decree against acts of
violence, 176.

Anselm (St.), writings of, 403; ibid, on St.
Paul to the Romans, 459; extracts from,
showing: his way of viewing religious mat
ters, 485; intellectual movement in the
Church within the limits of faith, 486; he
anticipates Descartes' demonstration of the
existence of a God, 485.

Arabians, their civilization described, 237;
probability that they were indebted to the
eastern monasteries for much of their know
ledge, 237 ; the connexion between their
science and that of antiquity may yet be
found, 237.

Arbogen, Council of, forbids church burial to
be given to pirates, ravishers, &c., 182.

Aristocracy in the 16th century, consisted of
the nobles and clergy, 348; differences be
tween them, 349 ; intermediate class between
the throne and the people, 349.

Aristotle, immoral ddctrine of, 443 ; his views
on public education, 443 ; his absurd inter
ference of the State in domestic matters,
443 ; his doctrines reformed by Christianity,
351.

Aries, Council of, its decree against feuds, 177.

Armagh, Council of, 109; ibid, frees all the
English slaves, 437.

Association, a favorite principle of Catholicity,

189.

Atheism, tendency towaids, in the 17th cen
tury, 61

Augustin (Si.), his description of paganism
89; his nolle sentiments on slavery, 111 ; r&
markab^e pass-agej from, on political forms,
390 , on the name Catholic being given to
the true Church only, 422.

Author, declaration of, 419.

Authority in religion, tendency towards, In
the 17th century, 61.

Avignon, Council of, its decree in favor of the
truce of God, 181.

Aymon ("of Aquitaine,) writes the history of
the French, 241.

BARBARIANS, those who invaded the Roman
Empire described, 122; their real condition,
444 ; their laws and manners, 447.

Barcelona, councillors of, their bold language
to the king of Spain, 340 ; its trades-associa
tions described by Capmany, 477.
Bayle, dictionary of, described, 63 ; its effects,

63.

Bellarmine, doctrine of, on the divine law, 291 ;
on the civil power, 292, on the distinction
between political and ecclesiastical power,
293 , vindication of, 294.

Benedict (Si.), described, 238; his monastic in
stitute, 238.

Beneficence, public, unknown to the ancients,
184 ; was the work of Christianity, 184 ; it
required permanent institutions, 184; they
were conceived and founded by the Church,
185 ; institutions of, founded by Catholicity,
185; they require the support of Christian
charity, 189.

Bernard (St ) , observations on, 409.

Beza, evidence of, against Protestantism, 423.

Bible, why forbidden in the vulgar tongue in
Spain, 215.

Bible Societies, effects of, 64.

Billuart, F., on the riarhtof making- laws, 296 ;
on the origin of society and the civil power,
296

Bishops, slaves of, set free at their death by de
cree of Council, 108.

Bonald on the Esprit des Lois, 186 ; his doc
trines, 283.

Boneuil, Council of, described, 106.

Bossuet, his negotiations with Leibnitz to re
unite the Churches, 61 ; school of, 283 : hi»
Universal History the first great work on
the philosophy of history, 418.

Brentzen, testimony of, to the incredulity pro.
vailing among the early reformers, 429

Brescia, Arnauld of, troubles excited by, 2ol.

Bruis (Pierre de), his iconoclastic fanaticism;
251.

Buchanan, his remark on the degradation ol
women wherever Christianity does not pre
vail, 136.

Bull-fights, those of Spain discussed, 174
493

494

N D E X .

Busenbaum on the power of making- laws, 295.
Bull (Coena Domini) containing- an excom-

m unica tinn against those who levy excessive

taxes, 36(>

(J.) on the manners of the German*

and Britons, 153.

Calmet, on St. Paul to the Romans, 461.

Calvin, intolerance of, 421 ; his vulgar abuse,
421 ; evidence of, in favor of the Pope, 423 .

*Vilvinism,a£ connected with democracy, 355.

Capmany on the trades-corporations of Barce
lona, 477.

Carranza, trial of, 212; its duration, 212; car
ried to Rome, 212; his dying- declaration,
212; conduct of Philip II. towards him, 213;
causes of his trial, 213; nature of his writ
ing's, 214 ; his reason why the Scriptures in
the vulg-ar tongue were forbidden in Spain,
215

Cassian, his account of the origin of religious
institutions, 223.

Cathari, the, described, 251.

Catholicity, its doctrines always the same, 65;
its past services to society, and what may
be expected from it for the future, 73; its
progress in several countries of Europe, 74 ;
not opposed to the true spirit of liberty, 80;
its effects on European civilization, 80; was
strong- in the west and weak in the east, 81 ;
importance of the unity produced by it for
the safety of Europe a mid perils, 81 ; degra
ded condition of society when it appeared,
90 ; not opposed to the feeling- of individual
ity, but promotes it, 131 ; the elevation of
woman due to it alone, 135, 155; places wo
men on an equality with men, 135 ; mistake
of its opponents, 149 ; its institutions falsely
assailed by Protestants and philosophers,
147 ; its exertion in favor of beneficenee im
peded by Protestantism, which compelled it
to stand on its defence, 188; unfairly treated
with reg-ard to tolerance, 190; its doctrine
with respect to errors of the mind, 200; waa
the work of God, 256 ; its fertility in re
sources, 257; its charity, 257; its true doc
trines with reg-ard to the civil power, 323 ;
its relations with the people, 353 ; its rela
tions with liberty, 357 ; its effects on the de
velopment of the intellect, 392 ; effects of its
principle of submission to authority, 393 ;
effects of the same on the sciences, 393 ; an
cient and modern philosophy compared with
it, 395; its morality, 397; its revealed dog-
mas, 3-97 ; is not opposed to true philosophy,
397; compared with Protestantism with re
spect to learning-, universities, &c. , 412; its
unity and concert, 423 ; its services ag-ainst
slavery. — (See Slavery.)

Celchite, Council of, 109.

Celibacy, influence of that of the clerg-y in
preventing; an hereditary succession, accord-
mg- to Guizot, 351 ; what would have hap
pened without it, 352.

Censors, among- the ancients, they took the
place of religious authority, 161.

Chalons, Council of, 108.

Chalons-sur-Saone, Council of, excommuni
cates those who fight within the precincts of
churches, 176.

Chanoinesses, enjoined by the Council »f Aix
to keep an hospital for poor women, 188.

Charity, its effects on toleration, 192

Charles V., why released from his oath by the
Pop? 210

Chateaubriand, writings of, described, 71 , d«^
scribes Zachary as selling- himself as aslavfl
to buy the liberty of a husband for his wife
and children, 104'; extract from, on the ef
fects of Catholicity and Protestantism, 415

Chivalry, its relations with women, 150; diq
not elevate them, but found them elevated
by Christianity, 151.

Christ, all his miracles beneficent, 1S4; hi*
whole life spent in doing- good, 184.

Christians, the early, their constancy in mar
tyrdom, 224; they seek asylums for retire
ment and prayer in the deserts, 224. -

Christianity, effects of, on society, 67; effects
produced by its appearance, 88; oppose*
slavery, 102; could not endure the savage
heroism of the Romans, 104; development
of the moral life by means of, 134 ; was un
known to the ancients, 134; the effects which
would have followed from the loss of its in
fluence on Europe, 134 ; ideas of some mod
ern philosophers with regard to it, 156; how
it is embodied in Catholicity, 156;" its pro
gress in the early ages described, 230 ; iU
effects on the invading barbarians, 235.

Church, the Catholic, services of, to society, in
combating the fatalist doctrines of the Re
formation, 68; her opposition to slavery, 102;
she protects the freedom of newly emanci
pated slaves, 103; consecrates manumission
by having- it performed in the churches, 103 j
protects slaves recommended to her by will,
103; allows her sacred vessels to be sold to
redeem slaves, 104; gives letters of recom
mendation to emancipated slaves, 105;
causes tending to promote slavery with
which she had to contend, 105; she makes
a law enabling those who had been com
pelled to sell themselves as slaves to recover
their liberty by paying back the price, 106;
she allows her ministers to give their liberty
to slaves belonging to her, while she forbids
other property to be alienated, 10S; sum
mary of her measures for the abolition of
slavery, 114 — (see Councils) ; its abolition
due to her alone, 114; reforms marriage,
136; preserves its sanctity, 137; great evils
thereby prevented, 137; her unity in doc
trines and fixity in conduct not inconsistent
with progress, 145 ; her struggles with the
corrupted Romans and savage barbarians,
176 ; decrees of her Councils against ani
mosities, 176; her persevering efforts, 177 ;
treats kings and great men as severely as
the lowly, 177 ; her boldness in checking the
crimes of kings, 178; her interference in
civil affairs of old justified by the circum
stances of the times, 182; her Councils pro
tect the weak— viz. clergy, monks, women,
merchants and pilgrims — against the strong,
182 ; her exertions in favor of the vanquish
ed in war, 183 ; she preserves unity of faith,
and founds institutions for doing good, 185 J
what she would have done for the cure of
pauperism if the Reformation had not plun
ged Europe into revolutions and reactions,
188; encourages the aristocracy of talent,
361 ; service which she did to the human
mind by opposing the spirit of subtlety of
the innovators, 407 ; her interference in tha
management of hospitals, 449.

Churches, the Protestant, only the instruments
of the civil power, 186.

Cicero, on the necessity of religion tJ the State,
316.

INDEX.

Civilization, that of Europe during- the 16th
century not owing- to Piousuuuiaia, 82; cha
racteristics of that of modern Europe de
scribed, 115; compared with ancient and
modern non-Christian civilization, 116; its
superiority owing to Catholicity, 117 ; may
be reduced to three elements — the individual,
the family, and society, 117; its universal
progress impeded and unity broken by
Protestantisjn, 260.
lemcnt, St. (Pope), passage from, on Chris
tians selling- themselves as slaves to redeem
their brethren, 10J
4 lergy , the effects on society ol their power and
influence, 175; fatal effects of the diminu
tion of their political influence in the 16th
century, 370; advantag-es which might have
resulted from it to popular institutions, 373;
their relations with all the powers and class
es of society, 373.
Clermont, Council of, its decree in favor of the

truce of God, 181.
Coblentz, Council of, 106.
Concina (P.), on the origin of power, 295;

how it exists in srovernments, 296.
Conduct, firmness of, its powerful effects in the

world, 145.

Conscience, the public, described, 157; that of
Europe contrasted with that of ancient times,
159; how influenced by the Church, 160;
both illustrated by the story of Scipio, 165;
the former was formed by Catholicity alone
166.

Conscience, the individual, described, 158.
Constance, Council of, its doctrine on the mur
der of king's, 336.

Cornelius a Lapide, on St. Paul to the Ro
mans, 460.

Cortes, severe measures of that of Toledo
ag-ainst the Jews, 205 ; decline of, in Spain,
381.

Cottereaux, excesses of, 252.
•Councils of the Church, their influence on po
litical laws and customs, 360 ; canons of,
which improve the condition of slaves, 430 ;
check all attempts ag-ainst the liberty of the
enfranchised slaves of the Church, or who
had been recommended to her by will, 431 ;
undertake that the Church will defend the
liberty and property of the freed who have
been recommended to her, 431; make the
redemption of captives the first care of the
Church, and give their interests precedence
over her own, 432; excommunicate those
who attempt to reduce men into slavery,
433 ; declare those who make Christians
slaves to be g-uilty of homiride, 434 ; ordain
that those who have sold themselves as slaves
shall recover their liberty by repaying the
price, 434; protect the slaves belonging to
Jews, 434 ; provide means for their becom
ing1 free, 434; forbid Jews to acquire new
Christian slaves, 435; ordain that if a mas
ter gives meat to a slave on a fasting- day,
the Tatter becomes free, 435; forbid Jews to
hold Christian slaves at all, 435; forbid
Christian slaves to be sold to Jews or pa
gans, 435; or to be .sold out of the kingdom
of Clovis, 436; severely condemn clerics
who sell their slaves to Jews, 436 ; command
bishops to respect the liberty of those freed
by their predecessors, '436 ; they mention the
power g-iven to bishops to free deserving
alaves, and fix the sum winch they may give j
them to Jive on, 436; exempt them from the

g-eneral rule, that alienations made by bish
ops who leave nothing of their own must be
restored, 436; ordain that wh«m a bishop
dies, all his slaves shall be set at liberty, and
that at the funeral each bishop or abbot may
set three slaves free, giving them three aolidi
each, 436; free all the English slaves in Ire
land, 437 ; forbid slaves ol the Church to be
exchanged lor others, 437 ; grant liberty to
slaves who wish to embrace the monastic
life, with proper precautions to prevent
abuses, 437 ; ciieck the abuse of ordaining
slaves without the consent of their masters,
437 ; allow pariah priests to select some cle
rics from the slaves of the Church, 438 ; al
low slaves to be ordained, having- been first
freed, 438.

Crusades vindicated, 242.

Cyprian (St.), on the redemption of captives.

DE MAISTRE on the word "catholic," 422 ; on
g-eneral Councils, 480; compares the con
duct of the Popes with that of other rulers,
484.

Democrats, difference between ancient and
modern, 130.

Democracy, its alliance with kings against
the aristocracy, 308; "notion formed of, in
the 16th century, 350; two kinds of, 364;
their progress in the history of Europe, 365;
their characters, 366 ; their causes and ef
fects, 366; historical facts with regard to, in
France, England, Sweden, Denmark, and
Germany, 367.

Descartes, his demonstration of the existence
of God anticipated b"y St. Anselm, 486.

Divorce, consequences of the facility of, in
Germany, according to M. de Stael, 139.

Divines, spirit of the writings of the old Cath-
lie, compared with that of modern writers,
288. •

Doctrines, their effects on society, 311 ; those
prevalent in the 16th century with regard to
democracy, 350; those prevalent in political
matters in Europe before the appearance of
Protestantism compared with those of the
school of the 18th century and those of mo
dern publicists, 374.

Dominicans, their exertions in favor of the
native Americans, as stated by Robertson,
441.

EAST, the, injury caused there by breaking
unity in religion, 235.

Elvira, Council of, its decree in favor of slaves.
100.

England, policy of, towards Spain, 76.

Eon, his fanatical delusion, 251.

Epaone, Council of, 100.

Erigena, account of, 400.

Errors, those of the mind not always inno
cent, 200.

Error described, 70.

Europe, characteristics of her civilization, 116;
condition of, in the 13th century, 245 et seq.\
singular contrasts therein, 246 ;~struggle be
tween barbarism and Christianity there, 247;
instances of great and good principles some
times abused in practice, 247 ; barbarism
therein improved by religion, and religion
disfigured by barbarism, 248 ; effects of the
crusades, 249 ; increasing- power of the com
monalty, 249 ; decline of the feudal system.
249; power of great idea*. 250; critical

496

INDEX.

epochs, 25C ; great agitation prevailing-, and
horrible doctrines spread, among- the people
at that time, 250 — (see Tancheme, Eon, Ca-
thnri, Vnudois. Albigenses) ; what she would
have dooe for civilization if she had not been
impeded by Protestantism, 261 ; her condi
tion when it appeared, 261 ; great increase
of power and development of mind, 262;
divisions occasioned by it, 262 ; the nations
thereof require religious institutions for or
ganizing beneficence and education on a
large scale, 277 ; state of, at the end of the
15th century, 344; social movement at that
time, 344 ; its causes, 344 ; its effects and ob
ject, 345; development of the industrial
classes there, 354 ; this took place under the
influence of Catholicity alone, 385; picture
of, from the llth century to the 14th, 382;
religion and the human mind there, 404 ;
intellectual condition of the nations of mo
dern, distinguished from that of those of an-
tiquiiy, 405 ; causes which have accelerated
it among- the former, 406.
Eximeno, letter of, on the sciences, 425.

FACTS, consummated, how they are to be
treated, 333.

Faith, unity of, not adverse to political liberty,
388.

Forma, political, their value, 357.

Francis I. (of France), his opinion on the ne
cessity of expelling the Moors from Spain,
210.

Francis, St. (de Sales), his list of titles given
to the Popes, 423.

Franks, their custom of going- armed to church
forbidden by Councils, 176.

Free-will, its denial discarded by Protestants
themselves, 68 ; its effects, 68 ; its noble re
sults, 134; supported by Catholicity ag-ainst
the Reformation, 135.

GAMBLING, passion of, described, 142.
Games, public, those of the Romans prohi
bited by the Christian Church, 175.
Gerbet (!' Abbe), his excellent refutation of

Lammenais' doctrines, 338.
Germans, manners of the ancient, described

by Tacitus, 152 ; why embellished by him,

153; are but little known to us, 154; their

struggles with the Romans, 154.
Gibbon, testimony of, to the merits of Bossuet's

History of the Variations, 421.
Gilles (St.), Council of, its decree in favor of

the truce of God, 179.
Gironne, Council of. in favor of the truce of

God, 180.
Glaber (Monk), of Cluny, his history of

France, 241.
3otti (Cardinal), doctrines of, on the origin

of power, 295.
Goua-et (l'Abb6),on Catholic Hebrew studies,

413.
Government, three principles of — monarchy,

aristocracy, and democracy, 344.
Governments, revolutionary ones are cruel in

self-defence, not being based on rig-lit, 128 ;

right of resistance to de facto ones, 330;

falsehood of the theory which imposes the

obligation of obeying them merely as such,

331 ; difficulties on this point explained, 332.
Grace, effects of the Catholic doctrine of, 234.
Gratian, merit of his literary labors, 241.
Gregory (Pope) , passage from, 108; frees two

slaves of the Roman Church, 436 ; his rea

son why Christians liberated their 'lave*,
436.

Gregory III. (Pope), on selling slaves to tb«
pagans for sacrifice, 435.

Gregory IX. (Pope), his decretals on slavery,
109 ; against the hereditary succession of th«
clergy, 352.

Gregory XVI. (Pope), his apostolir letteri
against the slave trade, 438

Grotius, his servile doctrine on the civil power
323 ; his evidence in favor of Catholicity
424.

Gruet, his incredulity and execution, 429.

Guibert, historical labors of, 241.

Guizot, on the effects of the Church upon slave
ry, 113; his doctrine of the personal inde
pendence of individuals among the barba
rians stated and discussed, 119; true the
ory thereon, 121 ; incoherence of his own
doctrines, 124; cause of his error, 125; hia
acknowledgment with regard to the refor
mation and liberty, 343 ; extract from, shew
ing that the clergy were not a caste, 351 ; an
opinion of, refuted, 399; extract from, shew
ing the immense superiority of the Church
to the barbarians in legislation, 447 ; docu
ments shewing- his error with respect to
Abelard, 486.

RACKET, fanaticism of, 427.

Harlem, Mathias, mad fanaticism of, 426.

Heresy, held a sin by the Catholic Church, 200.

Heretics, characteristics of those of the earlj
ages, 425.

Herman, preaches the murder of all priesH
and magistrates, 426.

Hermandad, charter of, between the kingdom*
of Leon and Castile, for the preservation o.
their liberties, 475.

History, difficulties in its study, 248 ; necessi
ty of taking into account times and circum
stances of events therein, 248.

Hobbes, his false theory of society, 304; hia
servile doctrine, 323.

Honor, principle of, in monarchies, according
to Montesquieu, 161.

Horace, on the origin of society, 462.

Hospitals, destroyed by Henry VIII. in Eng
land, 185; Catholic bishops the protector*
and inspectors of, 187 ; laws made respecting
them by the Church, 187 ; attached to mon
asteries and colleges in the middle ages, 449;
superintended by the bishops, 449 ; their
property protected by being considered as
belonging to the Church, 449.

Hugh of St. Victor, historical labors of, 241.

Humility, its effects with reg-ard to toleration*
193.

IDEAS, irreligious ones cannot be confined
theory, but enter on the field of practice, 70;
destroy themselves, 71 ; power of, 169; they
are divided into those that flatter tne paa
sions, and those that check them, 170 ; the
require an institution to preserve and en
force them, 170 ; how they became corrupted
among mankind before Christianity, 170;
how effected by the press, 171 ; their natural
progress, 171 ; their rapid succession in mo
dern times, 171.

Impiety allies itself with liberty cr despotism
to suit its purpose, 388.

Incredulity in Europe the fruit of Protes
tantism, 60; spirit of, has lost much of it*
strenerth. 70.

N D E X

497

tiiie|.endence, personal, feeling- of, existed
among- the Greeks and Romans, 124.

^difference, religious, in Europe, the fruit of
Protestantism, 60.

individual, the, how absorbed by the state
among the ancients, 127 ; fatal effects of the
complete annihilation of the feeling's of re
spect for, in society, 129 ; witnessed among
nations not Christians, 129.

Individuals, how the freedom of, was fettered
among- the ancient republics, 130; every
thing- ruled by the state, 130.

Inquisition, the, misrepresentations with re
gard to that of Spain, 203 ; its duration may
be divided into three periods, 205; appeals
from it to Rome, 207; indulgence of the lat
ter, 208; interference of the Popes to soft
en the rigours of, 203; mildness of that of
Rome, 208 ; no case of capital sentence pro
nounced by it, 208; rigours of that of Spain
in the time of Philip ft. caused by the Pro
testants themselves, 214; compels a preacher
to retract who, in the presence of Philip II.,

had maintained that kings have absolute
218; became mild
er witn tne spirit of the age, 218 ; remarks

power over their subjects
er with the spirit or the
thereon, 452; appellants uTRome from, for
bidden to return to Spain under pain of
death by pragmatic sanction of Ferdinand
and Isabella, 454 ; how affected by the poli
cy of the Spanish kings, 455; the latter ear
nestly endeavoured to have the judgment in
Spain made final, without appeal, which the
Popes re fused, 455; affected impartiality of
writers with regard to it, 455. See Perez,
Puigblanch, Villanueva, Llorenle, and Jomlob.

Institutions, religious, opposed by Protestant
ism and philosophers, 219 ; their importance
and connexion with religion herself, 221 ;
have survived the attempts made to destroy
them, 221 ; their nature described, 222 ; their
object, 222 ; are perfectly conformable to the
spirit of the Christian religion, 223 ; their
commencement, according to Cassian, 223 ;
have always existed in the Church from the
time of Constantine, 223; conduct of the
Popes towards them, 224 ; their accordance
with the Gospel precepts, 225; their effects
on the human mind, 226; their services and
necessity, 227 ; their necessity for the salva
tion of society, 275; not inconsistent with
the improvements of modern times, 280;
historical view of them, 453; coup d'aeil at
their origin and development, 458-9.

institutions, free, injured by Protestantism,
363.

Institutions, their study, 243 ; necessity of un
derstanding the tirnea when they existed,
248.

Intellect, the, it3 development, how affeeted
by Catholicity, 3M ; influence thereof upon,
historically examined, 398; its relations
with religion, 404 ;, its development among
he nations of Europe different from that of
those of antiquity, 405; causes that have
hastened its development in Europe, 405;
origin of the spirit of subtlety, 406 ; service
rendered to it by the Church in opposing the
subtleties of the innovators, 408 ; its progress
from the eleventh century to our times,l412 ;
diffeient phases, 412.

Intolerance, that of some irreligious men, 194 ;

of the Romans, 196; of the pagan emperors,

196 ; has continued from the establishment

of Christianity by the state, in various forms,

63

down to the present time, 196; recent in
stances of it, 196 ; case of France examined,
197; doctrine which condemns all intoler
ance with regard to doctrines and action!
discussed and refuted, 198; consequence*
which would flt w from it, 198; would pro
duce impunity for crimes, 198; civil and
religious, distinguished, 450; mistaken by
Rousseau, 450; its existence in ancient and
modern times held by some Protestants, 451.

Irreligion, spirit of, has lost much of its
strength, 70.

Isabella, part taken by, in the establishment
of the Inquisition in Spain, 205.

JANSENISTS, the, described, 62.

Jerome, St., on the name Catholic not being
given to heretics, 422.

Jesuits, importance of, in the history of civil
ization, 268 ; their eminent services, 269 ;
error and contradiction of M. Guizot in
their regard, 270; false charges against,
271.

Jews, the slaves of, protected by decrees of
Councils, 107; struggle between truth and
error among, 170 ; bow the truth was pre
served, 170; their avarice, 206; popular ha
tred against, 206 ; atrocities charged agaim
them by the people, 207 ; pragmatic sanctio |
of Ferdinand and Isabella with regard to
454; law of Philip II. against, 455.

John de Ste. Marie, extracts from, on Chria
tian politics, 463.

Jomtob, Nathaniel, his work called The Inqui
sition Unveiled, 456; his prejudice and vul
gar abuse, 456.

Judaisers pursued by the Inquisition, 209.

Justin, on martyrdom, 132 ; his Apology, 286

Justinian gives bishops the control of hospi
tals, 450

KINGS, inviolability of, 337 ; greatest increase
of the power of, in Europe, dates from th«
appearance of Protestantism, 363.

Knowledge, state of, when Christianity ap
peared, 85; sterility of, in creating social
institutions, 85.

LABORERS, protected by the Council of Rheima,
182.

Lacordaire (1'Abbe") on the Spanish Inquisi
tion, 210.

Lamennais (1'Abbe), his attempt to ally
Catholicity with extreme democracy, 131 ;
his doctrines on government compared with
those of St. Thomas, 333.

Las Casas, exertions of, in favor of the native
Americans related by Robertson, 442.

Lateran, general Council of, confims the truce
of God, 181 ; eleventh general Council of,
forbids the maltreatment of monks, clergy,
pilgrims, merchants, peasants, and the ship,
wrecked, 182.

Law, the divine, false interpretation of, 284 ;
St. John Chrysostom on, 285; according to
Bellarmine, 291. — See St. Thomas, Sucre*
Gotti, Btisenbaum, Liguori, Billuart, and ihi
Compendium Salmaticense.

Law. — See St. Thomas.

League, the Hanseatic, described, 354.

Legislation, that of Rome described, 86; WM
probably influenced by Christianity, 86.

Leibnitz, his negotiations with Bossuet to re
unite the Churches, 61 ; his theological system
contains the chief dogmas of Catholicity, 424

498

. N D E X .

Lepers, ordered to be maintained at the ex
pense of the Church, 187.

Lerida, Council i>f, excludes those at variance
from the body and blood of Christ, 176 ; de
crees seven years' penance against infanti
cide, 184.

Leyden, John of, his excesses at Munster,
426.

Liberty, a word ill understood, 79 ; examples
of, 79; how limited, 79; Catholicity favora
ble to its true spirit, 80 ; true nature of, 228 ;
according to Catholic doctors, 311 ; political
freedom owes nothing to Protestantism, 352 ;
Catholicity favorable to it, 352; why it has
fallen into bad repute with some, 362 ; con
sidered in relation to religious intolerance,
382; cannot subsist without morality, 389;
remarkable passage from Augustin on the
subject, 390.

Lillebonne, Council of, enforces the truce ot
God, 180.

Llandaff, Council of, 177.

Llorente, his History of the Inquisition, 457 ;
his attempt U, introduce schism and heresy
into Spain, 457 ; his misrepresentation, 457 ;
burns a portion of the documents belonging
to the Inquisition of Madrid, 457.

London, Council of, 106.

Louis of Bavaria, the doctrine that the impe
rial power comee immediately from God
maintained by the princes of the empire in
his time, 462.

Love, passion of, its effects, 143 ; how treated
by Catholicity and Protestantism, 144 ; ad
vantages of the course pursued by the for
mer, 145.

Luther, his opinion on polygamy, 138 ; effects
which his doctrines would have had, had
they been proclaimed sooner, 138 ; his intol
erance towards the Jews, 209; specimens
of his violence, grossness, and intolerance,
421 ; his evidence against Catholicity, 423 ;
his interview with the Devil, 425 ; infidel
passages from his writings, 428.
Lyons, Council of, 105; Council of, see Lepers;
poor men of, described, 251.

MACON, Councils of, 104.

Manichees, unusual severities exercised to
wards, 204 ; description of, 252.

Manners, gentleness of, one of the character
istics of European civilization, 172; wherein
it consists, 172 ; exists in advanced societies,
172; not found in young nations, 172; did
not exist among the Greeks and Romans,
173 ; causes of this, 173 ; their excessive cor
ruption among the ancients, 445.

Mariana, his popular doctrines, 312 ; on the
liberties of Spain, 481.

Marquez, P., on the disputes between rulers
and their subjects, 482 ; on the levying of
taxes, and the right of rulers over the pro
perty of their subjects, 483.
Marriage, doctrines of Catholicity and Protes
tantism with regard to, compared, 136; im
portance of guarding the sanctity of, 139;
not admitted as a sacrament by Protestant
ism, 139; different conduct of Catholicity
and Protestantism with regard to, 140.
Martyrs, neroism of the Christian, 132.
Matha, John of, one of the founders of the Or
der of the most holy Trinity for the Redemp
tion of Captives, 259.

Mathematics.obscurity of their first principles
425

Melancthon, his complaints against the other

Reformers, 421 ; superstitions of, 426.
Merchants protected by Councils, 182.
Merida, Council of, 100.

Missions, their unity broken by Protestantism
260 ; injury thereby done to them, 263 ; what
they might have effected had it not appeared,
263; what united efforts effected in earlier
times, 264 ; need of, on a large scale, for th*
conversion of the heathen, 265; zeal dis
played by the Church in the promotion ol,
in latter times, 266 ; powerful means for pro
moting at the command of Rome before
unity was broken, 266.

Monarchy, why hereditary is preferable, 143;
idea formed of, in the sixteenth century
346 ; application thereof, 347 ; in what it dif
fered from despotism, 347 ; what it was in
the sixteenth century, 347 ; its relations with
the Church, 348 ; when necessary in Europe,
356; different character of, in Europe and
Asia, 357 ; passagf from De Maistre on, 358;
institutions for limiting it, 358 ; it acquired
strength in the sixteenth century, 361 ; pre
vailed over free institutions, 362 ; causes of
this, 370.

Monasteries, those in the east established in
imitation of the solitaries, 235 ; causes ot
their decline, 235 ; services they might have
rendered to literature, 236; what they did
for knowledge, 236 ; those of the west estab
lished, 238; their effects, 238 ; property ren
dered sacred, 239 ; their property, 239 ; their
claims thereto, 239; their improvements,
240; encouragement given to the country
life, 240 ; their services to Germany, France,
Spain, and England, 240; great men the}
produced, 240 ; their services to science and
letters, 240 ; their civilizing effects, 242 ; new
forms assumed by them in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, 242 ; their objects, 243 ;
benefits they «onferred on mankind, 243
Monks, protected by Councils, 180.
Monogamy not owing1 to climate, 138.
Montaigne on the ReformHtion, 61 ; his infidel

sentiments changed at his death, 429.
Montanus, Arias, employed by Philip II. te

collect books and MSS., 218.
Montesquieu on the principle of honor in mo
narchies, 162; that of virtue in republics,
161 ; he is bound by his theory, 165; on the
destruction of monasteries and hospitals in
England by Henry VIII., 185; his doctrine
with regard to the latter, 186.
Montpellier, Council of, its decrees to secure

peace, 181.

Moots, the, dread of their power in Spain, 205;
papal bull in favor of, 209; law of Philip
III., expelling them, 454.

NAPOLEON and the Spanish nation, 331 ;
Narbonne, Council of, its decree in favor of

the truce of God, 179.
Nationality, importance of, 76.
Nicholas, a fanatic who taught that it was good

to continue in sin that grace might the more

abound, 427.
Nuns, protected by the Council of Rouen, 181

OBEDIENCE, motives of, founded on the will oi

God, 97.
Olive trees, why protected by the Council of

Narbonne, 180.
Opinions, the rapid succession of, in modern

times, 171

INDEX

499

Opinion, public, influence of, on morals, 163.
Orange, Council of, its Jecree in favor of

slaves, 103.
Orders, the religious-military described, 242;

the mendicant ditto, 252 ; the necessity for

the latter, 253; their popular nature, 254;

their influence, 254 ; were the work of God,

254; their relations with the Pontiffs, 256;

those for the redemption of captives, 257 ;

visions inspiring1 them, 259 ; their founders,

259.
Orleans, Council of, its decree in favor of slaves,

100, 103, 107 ; forbids any one to be armed

at church, 176; protects hospitals, 187; the

poor and prisoners, 187.
Oxford, Council of, its decree against robbers,

182.

PACTS, 298.

Paganism described by St. Augustin, 89.

Palafox, on the duties of kings, princes, and
magistrates, 321 ; on taxes and tyranny, 483.

Palentia, Council of, protects the defenceless,
182.

Papin, evidence of, in favor of Catholicity, 424.

Paris, trades-union of, 354.

Passions, the, differently treated by Catholici
ty and by Protestantism, 140 ; why so active
in times of public disturbance, 143.

Patrick, (St.), Council of, 105.

Paul, (St.), his Epistle to the Romans, 459.

Peasants. — See Lateran.

Penance, efficacy of the sacrament of, 167.

Perez, on the condemnation of a preacher for
absolutist doctrines by the Inquisition of
Spain, 455.

Peter, (St.), of Arbues, his murder by the Jews
not a proof of the unpopularity of the Inqui
sition, 207 ; tumult occasioned thereby, 207.

Peter, (St.), Nolasque, founds the Order of
Mercy for the Redemption of Captives, 259.

Philanthropy, inadequate for works of benefi
cence without Christian Charity, 189.

Philosophers, the irreligions of the last century
preferred pagan to Christian institutions,
161.

Philosophy, schools of, can destroy but not
create, 171.

Philip II. of Spain did not institute the Inqui
sition, but continued it, 210; why so much
attacked by Protestants, 210; probability
that the attempts made to introduce Protes
tantism into Spain in his time would suc
ceed, owing to the circumstances of the
times, 211; his conduct to Carranza, 213;
his services to Catholicity, 215; general feel
ing in his reign with regard to cruel punish
ments very different from the present, 217 ;
his patronage of literature, 218 ; his letter to
Arias Montanus, 456. — See Inquisition.

Pilgrims protected by Councils, 181.

Pitt, anecdote of, 76.

Pius II. (Pope), his apostolic letters against
slavery, 439.

Pius VII. (Pope), interposes to abolish the slave
trade, 441.

Plato, immoral doctrines of, 422.

Polygamy, not the effect of climate, 138.

Poor, the, regulations of Councils in favor of,
187.

Popes, the, services they rendered to society
by preserving the sanctity of marriage, 137 ;
support the truce of God, 181 ; their attempts
to mitigate the rigour of the Spanish Inqui
sition, 208 ; appoint judges of appeal, 208 ;

their intolerance cornparecv with the toler
ance of Protestantism, 208; their *^Mipora«
powers, 340; doctrines of theologians with/
regard to them in case they should full into
heresy, 342; nature, origin, and effects ol
their temporal power, 386; list of titles given
to, in ancient tunes, 423.

Power, origin of, 284; the paternal, considered
with regard to the civil, 286; the latter, ac
cording to Bellannine, resides immediately
in the people, 292; divine origin of, 298;
violence of, when illegitimate, 303 ; mediate
and immediate transmission of, 305; this dis
tinction important in some respects and un
important in others, 306; why Catholic di
vines have so zealously supported the mediate,
308; faculties of the civil, 317; calumnies
of the opponents of the Church on this point,
317; resistance to the civil, 324; comparison
between Catholicity and Protestantism on
this point, 327 ; vain timidity of some minds
on tins point, 324 ; obedience to the civil,
taught by Catholicity when legitimate, 325;
civil distinguished from spiritual, 326; con
duct of Catholicity and Protestantism with
respect to the separation of the two, 326; the
independence of the spiritual, a guarantee
for the liberty of the people, 326 ; doctrines
of St. Thomas on obedience to the civil, 328;
doctrines of St. Thomas, Bellannine, Suarez,
&c. on resistance to the civil, in extreme
cases, 338.

Preaching, that of Protestantism without au
thority, 167. — See Protestantism.

Prebendaries, bound to give a tenth of the.,
fruits to an hospital, 188.

Press, the effects of, on opinions, 171.

Prisoners, exertions of the Church in favor of,
187.

Protestantism, present condition of, 64; at
tempts to preserve itself by violating its fun
damental principle, 64 ; causes of its conti
nuance, 64; has almost entirely disappeared
as a fixed creed, but remains as a body of
sects, 65; its positive doctrines repugnant to
the instinct of civilization, 68; its essential
principle one of destruction, 69; can boast
only of its ruins, 69 ; was the work of human
passions, and not of God, 69; effects which
even its partial introduction into Spain would
produce, 74, 76, 78 ; advantages of the prac
tice of preaching: preserved by, 90, 166; its
preaching is without authority, 167; its doc
trine with respect to errors of the mind, 199;
effects which its introductien into Spain
would have produced, 216; would have bro
ken the unity of the Spanish monarchy, 216;
is opposed to vows and celibacy, 219; its ap
pearance, 262; its effects in breaking th«
unity of European civilization, 262; divided
the missionaries among themselves, 263; dis
astrous effects of, 267; exalts the temooral
power at the expense of the spiritual, 308;
its relations with liberty, 343 ; real state of
the case on this point, 344; its origin aristo
cratic, 355; not favorable to the poor, 355;
has contributed to destroy free institutions,
363 ; fearful state of Europe after it appeared ,
369; political doctrines prevailing in Europr
before its appearance compared with tho&e
of modern publicists and the school of the
eighteenth century, 374 ; has prevented ihf
homogeneity of European civilization, 375 ;
historical proofs, 376; compare! with Catho
licity with regard to learning-, -;ritici«m the

'.lamed languages, the foundation of univer-
rities, the progress of literature and the arts,
mysticism, high philosophy, metaphysics,
morals, religious philosophy, and the philo-
jophy of histoiy, 412; evidences against,
from Luther, Melancth.m, Calvin, Beza,
Grotius, Papiu, Puffendorf, and Leibnitz,
423; its superstition and fanaticism, 425;
bad faith of its founders, 428; passages prov
ing this, 428; progress of infidelity soon
after its 'appearance proved from Luther,
Brentzen, Gruet, and Montaigne, 42*5.

P afieiulorf, his false theory ol society, 304 ;
evidence of, against Protestantism, 423.

Puigblanch. — See Jomlob.

Pmishments, right of inflicting capital, deriv
ed from God, 300; cannot come from pacts,
300; mildness of, among barbarian nations
not a proof of civilization but of indifference
to crime, 447 ; immense superiority of the
legislation of the Church with respect to, ac
cording to M. Guizot, 447.

lidGULUs, virtue bordering on ferocity, 104.

Religion, always exfsted in some shape among
the greater part of mankind, 66 ; power of,
in Spain, 76; condition of, when Christianity
appeared, 84; atrocities committed in the
name of, by Catholics and Protestants, 204 ,
importance of, to the civil power, 311 ; cor
ruption of, among the ancients, 445.

Revolutions, those of modern times,. 389; dif
ference between that of the United States of
America and that of France, 389.

Rheims, Councils of, 104 ; commands that the
clergy, monks, women, travellers, laborers,
and vine-dressers shall be respected during
war, 182; protects the poor, 187.

Rcbertson. — See Dominicans and Las Casas.

Romans, the, their savage heroism not tolerat
ed by the mild spirit of Christianity, 104;
futile attempts made to imitate them, 128;
cheir manners effeminate without being gen
tle, 173.

fcome, legislation of, 86; how affected by
Christianity, 86 ; vice of her political organ
ization, 87; Council of, its decrees in favor
of slaves, 109 ; the court of, endeavors to
mitigate the severity of the Spanish Inqui
sition, 208 ; mildness of the Inquisition at
Rome compared with that in other places,
208 ; no instance of a capital sentence hav
ing been pronounced thereby, 208 ; the de
cline and fall of the empire of, 229.

Hoscelin described, 400; compared with St.
Anselm, 407.

Rouen, Council of, its decree in favor of the
truce of God, 181.

Rousseau, doctrines of, 282 ; his appeal to the
passions, 288 ; his Contrat Social, 299 ; his
misrepresentation of Catholicity, 450; doc
trines of his Contrat Social, 451 ; his intoler
ance, 451 .

SAAVEDRA, his popular doctrines, 313.

Salamanca, Compendium of, on the transmis
sion of power by the people's consent, 295.

Sciences, the natural and social compared, 85.

Scipio, story of, 166.

Self-defence, right of, alleged as a plea for the
intolerance of governments, 202.

Seneca, on the worship of the gods, 316.

Sigebert, historical labors of, 241.

Slaves, their larg-e numbers among the an
cients, 91 ; their numbers at Athens, Sparta,

Rcme, and in the eastern countries, 91
opinions of Plato and Aristotle regaruing
them, 91 ; their treatment, 91 ; dangers fronc
their numbers, 91 ; their rebellions, 92; theii
immediate emancipation impracticable, 93;
the Church did all that could be done in theii
favor, 94; difficulties she had to contend
with in their emancipation, 94; conduct, de
signs, and tendencies of the Church favora
ble to them, 94 ; their natural inferiority tc
freemen proclaimed by the heathen philoso
phers, 95 ; their natural equality with their,
inculcated by the Scriptures and the Church
97; motives for their obedience, 97; their ill
treatment, 98; spirit of hatred and revolts
thereby caused, 98; St. Paul's instructions
to them, 98 ; power of life and death possess
ed over them by their masters, and cruelties
exercised, 99; scene from Tacitus, 99; St
Paul intercedes for one of them, 100; ill
treatment of them forbidden by Councils o.
the Church, 100; she substitutes public tria
for private vengeance in their regard, 101 ;
the clergy forbidden to mutilate them, 101 ;
she condemns to punance those who put them
to death of their, own authority, 101; she
protects those newly emancipated, 103; those
of the Church not allowed to be sold or ex
changed, 109; those who embrace the mon
astic state are freed by decree of the Council
of Rome, 109; abuse thereof, 109; were rais
ed to the priesthood, but not until they had
been freed, 110; prevalence of the abuse of
ordaining slaves without the consent of their
masters, 110; the Church protects their mar
riages, and forbids them to be dissolved by
their masters. 113.— See Councils.

Slavery, the offspring of sin, 112.

Society, will always^be either religious or su
perstitious, 67; modern, described, 72; ita
progress, 82 ; condition of, when Christianity
appeared, 84 ; present state of, 274 ; admin
istration alone not adequate to its wants;
principle of charity required, 276; physical
means of restraining the masses of, 273;
moral means required, 280; origin of, ac
cording to St. Thomas; 289; not the work
of man, 291 ; not to be saved by strict polit
ical doctrines, without religion and moral
ity, 314 ; why modern conservative schools
are powerless in preserving it, 315 ; struggle
therein between the three elements, monar
chy, aristocracy, and democracy, 369.

Solitaries, the early, described, 231 ; numbers
of, 231 ; influence of, in spiritualising ideas
and improving morals, 232; overcome the
difficulties of the luxurious and enervating
climate, 234 ; great men who received their
inspirations from them, 234.

Spain, effects which the partial introduction ol
Protestantism would nave produced there
74, 76, 77 ; power of religious ideas there, 76
peculiar manner in which revolutionary
ideas have come into operation there, 77 ;
has not yet obtained the government which
she requires, 78; effects of the loss of her
national unity, 78 ; her intolerance in reli
gious matters not so great as it has been re
presented, 218; bold' language used there
with regard to politics, 312; industrial pro
gress therein, 354 ; Catholicity and politics
there, 377; real state of the question, 377 ;
causes of the ruin of her free institutions,
378; ancient and modern freedom, 378;
Communerot of Castile, 379; policy of hei

INDEX

501

rulers, 880; Ferdinand, x'imenes, Charles
V., and Philip II. 381.

Stephen, ("Abbot), his account of the excesses
committed by the Manichees in France, 252.

Suarez, on the origin of power, 294 ; his reply to
King James I. of England, 294-; on the dis
putes between subjects and their rulers, 473.

Subtlety, spirit of, in the middle ages, its
causes, 406.

TACITUS, scene from, of cruelty to slaves, 99 ;
on the ancient Germans with regard to wo
men, 152; his description of their manners,
why embellished, 152.
Tact, value of, 171.
fancheme, excesses of, 250.
felugis, Council of, ordains the truce of God,

ISO.

Tertullian, apology of, 286.
Theodosious, the emperor, excluded from the
Church by St. Ambrose, for the slaughter at
Thessalonica, 178.
Theories, rapid succession of, in modern times,

171.

Theresa, St., extracts from the visions of, 427.
Thierry, M., his history of the Conquest of

England by the Normans, 120.
Thomas, St., of Aquin, extract from, on the
origin of society, 289 ; on the Divine law,
290; his definition of law, 319; his doctrines
with regard to laws and royal power, 319;
on obedience to laws, 328 ; utility of his dic
tatorship in the schools in the middle ages
to the human mind, 411 ; passages from, on
the duties of rulers and subjects, 470; his
doctrines on the forms of government, 480.
rimes, superiority of the primitive, has been

exaggerated, 422.

Toledo, Councils of, 103, 107, 108, 111.
Toleration, how misunderstood and misrepre
sented, 190; prejudices against Catholicity
with regard to, 190; principle of, considered,
191 ; in religious men is the produce of two
principles, charity and humility, 191 ; illus
trations, shewing how they are affected by
intercourse with the world on this point, 192 ;
that of some irreligious men, 194; consider
ed in society and governments, 194 ; its ex
istence in society not owing to the philoso
phers, 195; its causes, 195; principle of uni
versal, discussed, 196.

Tours, Council of, ordains that the poor shall be
supported in their own town or parish, 187.
Trades-corporations, origin and salutary ef
fects of, 477.

Trades-union. — See Paris.
Trajan, the emperor, 6000 gladiators slain at

his games, 174.

Tranaubstantiation, discussion with regard to,
m consequence of the ph losophy of Des-
cartt-8, 397.

Trent, Council of, gives bishops the power on

visiting hospitals, 449.
Troja, Councils of, promote the truce of God

180.
Truce of God described, 179; established bj»

Church Councils, 179; supported by Popes,

180.

Truth, described, 69.
Tubuza, Council of, establishes the truce ol

God, 179.

UNBELIEVERS, doctrines of, with regard to er

rors of the mind, 200.
Universities, those founded by Catholicity, 414

V AISON, Council of, decree oi, in favor of found
lings and against infanticide, 184.

Valois, Felix of, one of the founders of the
Order of the Most Holy Trinity for the Re
demption of Captives, 259.

Vaudois, described, 252.

Verneul, Council of, 105.

Villanueva, prejudice and egotism of, 457.

Vine-dressers, protected by the Council of
Rheims, 182.

Virginity, respected by the ancients, &c., but
not by Protestantism, 146; how important
that it should be respected, 146; not inju
rious to the state, 147 ; its effects on the fe
male character, 149.

Visions, (see Orders); effects of, 259; those 01
Catholics, 427.

Vives, Louis, on human knowledge, 424.

Voltaire described, 63; extract from, on the
importance of the morals of courts to socie
ty, 137.

Vows, vindication of religious, 228 ; those of
chastity in the early ages of the Church, 458

WIDOWS, their vows of chastity in the early
ages of the Church, 458.

Witmar, a German monk, his chronicles much
esteemed 241 ; used by Leibnitz, 241.

Women, degraded condition of, among the
ancients, 136, 441 ; their elevation due en
tirely to Catholicity, 136, 156; how affected
by chivalry, 150; their elevation falsely as
cribed to the ancient Germans, 151 ; pro
tected by Councils, 182.

Worms, Council of, excommunicates those
who refuse to be reconciled, 177.

ZEBALLOS, P.. on Christian politics and N»-

both's vineyard, 467,
Ziegler, a Lutheran, an ardent defender a,

the immediate communication cf temporal

power, 463.

Zonarus, on charitable establishments, 1H7.
Zuinglius, his phantom, 426

THE END.

BALMES, (REV.) J

^ropean civilization.

• 33 ^