Publicists have already nearly abandoned the theory of "a general will;" and even those who contend for the sovereignty of the people, do not maintain that the will of all the citizens should constitute the law. The law, say they, is not the expression of general will, but of general reason. The philosopher of Geneva would have the will of individuals collected, the aggregate of which he termed the general will. In like manner, the publicists of whom we are speaking are of opinion that it is necessary to collect, amongst the governed, the greatest amount of reason, and to give this to the government for its guidance, the governing body being merely an instrument for the application of it. It is not men who command, say they, but the law; and the law is nothing else than reason and justice.
This theory, so far as it is correct, and apart from the applications which might be made of it, is not a discovery of modern science; it is a traditional principle of all Europe, which presided at the formation of society, and has given to civil power an organisation differing widely from those of antiquity, and equally so from those of modern times that have not participated in our civilisation. This, on close examination, appears to be the reason why European monarchies, even the most absolute, have been so very different from the Asiatic. A singular phenomenon: at the very time when society among us had no legal guarantees against the power of kings, it still had other very forcible ones which were purely moral. Modern science cannot, therefore, claim the discovery of a new principle of government; it has unknowingly resuscitated the ancient one. By rejecting the doctrine of Rousseau, instead of making, according to the vulgar expression, a step in advance, it retrograded; but to retrograde is not always to lose an advantage. What is or can be lost by receding from the brink of a precipice to enter upon a safe road? Rousseau complains, and with reason, that certain writers have so far exaggerated the prerogatives of civil power, as to convert mankind into a common herd, of which rulers could dispose to serve their interest or caprice. Such reproaches, however, cannot be applied to the Catholic Church, nor to any of the illustrious schools sheltered in her bosom. The philosopher of Geneva makes a severe attack upon Hobbes and Grotius for having maintained this servile doctrine. Catholics have nothing to do with the cause of these two writers. I will observe, however, that it would not be just to place the latter upon a parallel with the former. Grotius has certainly afforded reason for the accusation. He maintains that there are cases in which governments are not for the benefit of the governed, but for that of the governing powers. "Sic imperia quædam esse possunt comparata ad regum utilitatem." (De Jure Belli et Pacis, lib. i. cap. 3.) But, whilst we acknowledge that this principle has a dangerous tendency, we grant that the doctrines of the Dutch writer do not upon the whole tend to the total ruin of morality.
By rendering Grotius his due share of justice, we prevent any exaggeration of the evil which may exist on the side of our opponents; it must now be permitted to Catholic hearts to remark with noble satisfaction, that such doctrines could never be established amongst the professors of the true faith, and that the fatal maxims which lead to oppression have originated precisely among those who have deviated from the teaching of the Chair of St. Peter. No; Catholics have never brought under discussion whether kings have an unlimited power over the lives and fortunes of their subjects, to such a degree as to admit of no opposition, whatever be the excess of the absolutism and despotism exercised over them. Whenever flattery raised its voice to exaggerate the royal prerogative, this voice was immediately silenced by the unanimous outcry of the supporters of sound doctrine. Witness the remarkable example of a solemn retractation imposed by the tribunal of the Inquisition upon a preacher who had exceeded his bounds. Not so in England, a country proverbial for its hatred of Catholicity. Whilst here, in Spain, it was forbidden under a severe penalty to circulate maxims so degrading, in England the question was proposed with the greatest gravity, and writers upon law were divided in their sentiments. (See end of chapter 39.)
Every impartial reader has already been able to form an opinion on the value of declamations against the right divine, and on that pretended affinity of Catholic doctrines with despotism and slavery. The exposition of these doctrines which I have just given is certainly not founded upon vain reasoning, sought out on purpose to darken the question. I have not in any way shunned the difficulty.
The question was, to know in what these doctrines consisted. I have shown clearly, that those who calumniate them do not understand them, and that we may even be allowed to suppose that they have never taken the trouble to examine them, such is the levity and ignorance with which they express themselves. Perhaps I have adduced too many facts and quotations; but let the reader bear in mind, that my object is not to present him with a code of doctrines, but to give to this point of doctrine an historical investigation. Now, history does not call for discourses, but facts; and in matters of doctrine, the sentiments of authors are facts. Whilst beholding the salutary reaction now taking place in favour of sound principles, let us avoid giving an incomplete statement of the truth. For the cause of religion it is highly important that its advocates should be free from even the most remote suspicion of dishonesty or dissimulation. On this account, I have, without hesitation, given in their integrity the doctrines laid down by Catholic writers, just as I find them in their works. By misrepresenting and confounding facts, Protestants and unbelievers have succeeded in deceiving; let me hope that, by explaining and elucidating them, I shall not be unsuccessful in removing the deception.
I purpose examining, in the remaining part of this work, some other questions relating to the same subject—questions perhaps not more important, but certainly more delicate. And for this reason, I was obliged to smooth the way, that I might proceed with more liberty and ease. I have hitherto made the cause of religion defend itself with its own weapons, without borrowing the support of auxiliaries which were superfluous. I shall proceed in the same course, fully convinced that Catholicity can only lose by any line of vindication that identifies it with political interests, and confines it within a circle too limited for its immensity. Empires appear and disappear; the Church of Christ will last till the end of time. Political opinions undergo changes and modifications; the august dogmas of our religion remain immutable. Thrones rise and fall; and the rock upon which Jesus Christ has built His Church stands unshaken throughout the course of time, ever defying the powers of hell. When we take up arms in her defence, let us be impressed with the importance of our mission; let there be no exaggeration, no flattery—the pure truth in measured, but accurate and firm language. In addressing ourselves to the people, in proclaiming the truth to kings, let us bear in mind that religion is above politics, and God above kings and people.
[CHAPTER LIV.]
ON RESISTANCE TO THE CIVIL POWER.
The doctrines of Catholicity, therefore, in reference both to the origin and the exercise of civil power, are unobjectionable. Let us now proceed to another point—one of greater delicacy and difficulty, if not of more importance. To state the question frankly, without any subterfuge or evasion: "Is it allowable in any case to resist the civil power?" It is impossible to speak more distinctly, or to employ more precise and simple terms in stating this question, which is the most important, the most difficult, and the most startling of any that the subject we have in hand presents for our investigation. We know that Protestantism from its commencement proclaimed the right of insurrection against civil power; and no one is ignorant of the fact that Catholicity has ever preached up obedience to this power; so that if the former has been from its infancy an element of revolution and of overthrow, the latter has been an element of tranquillity and good order. This distinction might induce us to believe that Catholicity favors oppression, since it leaves the people without arms to defend their liberty. "You preach up obedience to the civil powers," our adversaries will say; "you pronounce, in all cases, an anathema upon any insurrection which attacks them; should tyranny prevail, therefore, you become its most powerful auxiliaries; for, by your doctrine, you arrest the arm ready to be raised in defence of liberty; you stifle with the cry of conscience the indignation awakened in generous hearts." This is a serious charge, which compels us to elucidate, as far as possible, this important point, and to distinguish in it truth from error, certainty from doubt.
Some men would shrink from the investigation of such questions, and prefer drawing a veil over them—a veil which they venture not to raise, lest they should find an abyss. And assuredly their timidity is not inexcusable; for there are abysses unfathomable, and dangers that strike the mind with awe. One false step may lead to destruction; one move in a wrong direction may let loose tempests that would lay society in ruins. Whilst, however, I willingly admit the pure intentions of such persons, I may be permitted to observe, that their prudence is quite thrown away, that their foresight and precaution are of no avail. Whether they investigate these questions or not, they are investigated, agitated, and decided, in a manner that we must deplore; and, worse still, the theories thence arising have been reduced to practice. Revolutions are no longer confined to books, they have become realities; quitting the quiet path of mere speculative philosophy, they are to be seen in the streets and in the public squares. Since, then, things have come to such a pass, why seek palliatives, make use of restrictions, or invoke silence? Let us tell the truth, just as it is, without concealment; since it is the truth, it will neither shrink before abundance of knowledge, nor the attacks of error. It is truth; its manifestation, its diffusion can have no injurious effect. In a word, God, who is the Author of societies, had no need of establishing them upon falsehood. This candor is the more necessary, because political changes may have led some persons to disavow the truths we are discussing, or no longer to understand them aright; whilst others imagine that obedience to legitimate authority has been taught only by a party anxious to make this doctrine the foundation of their tyranny. Men of erroneous opinions and evil intentions have their own codes, to which they have recourse whenever it will forward their designs: their fatal errors or their sordid interests form the rule of their conduct; this is the source of their knowledge and of their inspirations. Men, therefore, endowed with a pure heart and with upright intentions, should know what to hold by in political oscillations; it is no longer sufficient for them to have a general knowledge of the principle of obedience to the legitimate authorities; they must also be acquainted with their applications.