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 afterwards 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 distinction, 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 in 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, shows the subject in points of view quite dissimilar.
[CHAPTER LVIII.]
MONARCHY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
The idea of monarchy has ever existed in the bosom of European 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 had 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; amongst others, a sort of stifling of thought, which 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 hand of Christianity. That is to say, the principles of monarchy were composed 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 thing, 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 modifications which a variety of circumstances gave to its signification, it meant, the 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 from which society was emerging was still felt, and was inevitable in an aggregation of heterogeneous bodies, in a combination of rival and hostile elements; 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 Democratie moderne, 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 legitimate 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. Aristocracy 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 have been already resolved. At the commencement of the sixteenth century, its existence and preponderance were already necessary. The question to be resolved is, whether the throne ought so decisively to have prevailed, that the two elements, aristocracy and democracy, should be erased from the 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 eyes 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 endeavored 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 favoring despotism, because she preached up to the people the duty of obedience 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.