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 Müller says, that the Father of the faithful was, during the barbarous ages, a tutor sent by God to the European nations; and let us not be astonished to find that differences 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.[34]
[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 of 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 conservative principles of society—those principles which invest with an immense 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 develop it fully, and to examine it attentively.
Of what was monarchy the representative? Of a principle eminently conservative 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 institutions; 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. This 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 necessity 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 escutcheons 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 applicable 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 all social forces, and the people were constantly enriching themselves by industry and commerce. With regard to learning, the discovery of printing, as it became general, prevented it from being henceforth the exclusive patrimony 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. Unfortunately for them, their wealth was daily decreasing, not only from the dilapidations 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 reorganization 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 privileges, 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.