[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 occupies 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 discipline, 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 sacrilegious oaths from the clergy, and send into exile or to the scaffold the ministers of religion who remain faithful to their duty.
The man who cannot see that what I 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. An absolute monarch, imbued with religious ideas, surrounded 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 to do so as far as circumstances of time and place permit. A wicked monarch, or one 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 public 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, a decree of the Autocrat of Russia drives millions of souls into schism. It follows 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 possession of the mind of its occupant, her powers are unlimited; and, for my part, I know nothing more horrible than the omnipotence of wickedness.
In recent times, European democracy has signalized itself lamentably by its 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 impious. 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 temples, 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 our 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 Protestantism 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 forget 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 ægis of the Catholic religion, was evidently tending towards that general harmony, the absence of which has rendered necessary an excessive employment of force. Unity 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 classes put an end to, and the class naturally destined to fill the office 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 case of a conflict; without a single judge, who, the friend of both parties, and disinterested in the quarrel, might have settled their differences with impartiality, 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 course which they naturally would have followed, had not the fatal Reformation intervened. To attain its complete development, European civilization 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 taking 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 its guard. Do you suppose, for instance, that the policy of the Spanish government, constituted as it was the protector of Catholicity against powerful Protestant nations, was not powerfully influenced by the peculiar and very dangerous position of the country?
I think I have shown that the Church has never been opposed to the legitimate 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 democracy 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 authority to keep them in order, otherwise they will be constantly abusing their rights, and will consequently 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 it would be advisable to enact that such a people should choose their own authorities the administration of their affairs?—Evodius. Certainly.—Augustine. But, in case these same people become so corrupt that the citizens prefer 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 themselves; 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.—Augustine. 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 laws is unjust, or that it should not have been enacted?—Evodius. By no means."[D]