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 countries 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 disparaged 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 in 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 erroneous 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 eighteenth century, we have seen that the greatest license of expression was 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 obedience due to the sovereign, without there being any need of giving this obedience any extraordinary titles, when its real ones were sufficient, as they certainly 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 determination of political forms, or in 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, pacts, 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-mentioned 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 his book De Rege et Regis institutione, whilst those of the Abbé Spedalieri, at the end of the eighteenth century, were such a terror to it? The reason of this lies 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 considered 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: royal 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 some fixed point to which the first link of the chain may be riveted. These schools, generally speaking, originate in the bosom of revolution; they are directed by men who have figured in revolutions, who have contributed to prepare them, who have given them their force, and who, in order 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 gone 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 on account of its anarchical doctrines, whilst at the same time doctrines are circulated tending visibly to weaken religion. Can we possibly believe that the Contrat 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 irreligion 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, nevertheless, 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 the 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 intelligence 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 professing 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 in their existence; we are next to acknowledge their majesty, and bounty, without which there is no majesty." "Primum est Deorum cultus, Deos credere; deinde reddere illis majestatem suam, reddere bonitatem, sine qua nulla majestas est." (Seneca, Epist. 95.) Observe how Cicero, the first orator and perhaps the greatest philosopher 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 heart of man, who see his actions, the spirit of piety which he carries into the practice of religion, and who distinguish the life of the pious from that of the ungodly man." "Sit igitur jam hoc a principio persuasum civibus, dominos esse omnium rerum, ac moderatores deos; eaque quæ gerantur, eorum geri ditione ac numine, eosdemque optime de genere hominum mereri, et qualis quisque sit, quid agat, quid inde admittat, qua mente, qua pietate colat religiones intueri: piorumque et impiorum habere rationem." (Cic. de Nat. Deor. 2.)

These truths should be profoundly impressed upon the mind: the evils of society do not principally emanate from political ideas or systems; the root of the evil lies in religion; and if a check is not put upon irreligion, it is vain to proclaim the most rigid monarchical principles. Hobbes did certainly flatter kings a little more than Bellarmin; and yet, when these two writers are compared, what sensible monarch would not prefer as a subject the learned and pious controvertist?[30]


[CHAPTER LIII.]
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 despotism—to that oppression of which she is so calumniously accused of being a supporter. 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 passages 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 powerfully 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, without 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 Reformation of the sixteenth century. According to this idea, Catholic theologians are represented as a crowd of ignorant monks, capable only of writing, in bad language 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 intellectual 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 impunity the opinions of a writer lying covered with dust and forgotten in the 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 work, filling his mind with the writer's notions, without even so much as putting 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 of 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.