The evil did not consist in the disposition of nations to carry out their ideas, and refuse to take as their only guide the interests and doctrines of a few tyrants. On the contrary, this was a great step gained in the path of civilization; 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 different 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 movement, 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 thirteenth 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 an 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 century, we find the famous Tanchème, or Tanquelin, teaching the maddest theories and committing the greatest crimes; yet at Antwerp, in Zealand, in the country 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 (Tanchème) had received the plenitude of that Holy Spirit." He added that the whole Church was comprised in his own person and in his disciples. The pontificate, episcopate, and priesthood were, according to him, mere chimeras. His instructions and discourses were particularly addressed to women; the result of his doctrines and proceedings was the most revolting corruption. Yet the fanaticism which was excited by this abominable 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 thought themselves happy to have obtained the favors of the monster; mothers considered it an honor for their daughters to be selected as the victims of his profligacy, and husbands were offended when their wives were not stained with this disgrace. Tanchème, 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 spectators, 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 and gross as it was sacrilegious, seemed only calculated to excite the indignation of those who were present; yet the results corresponded with the expectations of the artful impostor. The women, always jealous of the affection of Tanchème, 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, Tanchème 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 far 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 asserted, 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 Arnauld 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 relate 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 minds to novelty, to extravagant spectacles, and I know not what fatal giddiness, whereby they were precipitated into the most strange errors and the most deplorable excesses. At all events, I must say a few words of the Cathari, Vaudois, Paterins of 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. Under different names, with more or less of followers, and with doctrines more or less 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 unhappy celebrity by their obstinacy and fanaticism. In the time of St. Bernard, the sects called apostolical were distinguished by their dislike to marriage; while, on the other hand, they gave themselves up to the basest and most unbridled licentiousness. Nevertheless, all these irregularities were 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 Cottereaux, 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. An 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 into 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 of 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 incompatible 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 thirteenth 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, was in a state of terrible conflict. In 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 disinterestedness 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 abominations: in fine, the evil was not limited to countries which by a tardy and incomplete 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; that is, the country where the human mind was developed in the most prompt and lively manner.
In the midst of such a concourse of unfortunate circumstances, all attested and placed beyond a doubt by history, was not the future of Europe very dark and tempestuous? Ideas and manners were in imminent danger of taking a wrong 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 ever? 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 miserably 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 powerful means employed by Providence to save religion and society. If the illustrious Spaniard, St. Dominic de Guzman, and the wonderful man of Assisi, did 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 deceitful medium of Protestant and philosophical prejudices? Tell us, then, what you find reprehensible in these men, whose establishments have been the subject 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 doctrines, 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 inspiring 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 themselves 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-barbarous 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 accompanied by a regular and uniform conduct; extraordinary examples, a mode of life which bears with it the most powerful edification, and sanctity clothed with an exterior adapted to make a lively impression on the imagination, are required.