Protestantism and Catholicity

CHAPTER XXVII.

OF CHIVALRY AND BARBARIAN MANNERS, IN THEIR INFLUENCE ON THE CONDITION OF WOMEN

An indefatigable zeal for the sanctity of marriage, and an anxious solicitude to carry the principle of modesty to the highest degree of delicacy, are the two rules which have guided Catholicity in her efforts for the elevation of woman. These are the two great means she has employed in attaining her object, and hence comes the influence and importance of women in Europe. M. Guizot is, therefore, wrong in saying that "it is to the development, to the necessary preponderance of domestic manners in the feudal system, that this change, this improvement in their condition is chiefly owing." I will not discuss the greater or less influence of the feudal system on the development of European manners. Undoubtedly when the feudal lord "shall have his wife, his children, and scarcely any others in his house, they alone will form his permanent society; they alone will share his interests, his destiny. It is impossible for domestic influence not to acquire great power." (Leçon 4.) But if the lord, returning to his castle, found one wife there, and not many, to what was that owing? Who forbade him to abuse his power by turning his house into a harem? Who bridled his passions and prevented his making victims of his timid vassals? Surely these were the doctrines and morals introduced into Europe, and deeply rooted there by the Catholic Church; it was the strict laws which she imposed as a barrier to the invasions of the passions; therefore, even if we suppose that feudality did produce this good, it is still owing to the Catholic Church.

That which has no doubt tended to exaggerate the influence of feudality in all that raises and ennobles women, is a fact that appears very evidently at that period, and is dazzling at first sight. This is the brilliant spirit of chivalry, which, rising out of the bosom of the feudal system, and rapidly diffusing itself, produced the most heroic actions, gave birth to a literature rich in imagination and feeling, and contributed in great measure to soften and humanize the savage manners of the feudal lords. This period is particularly distinguished for the spirit of gallantry; not the gallantry which consists generally in the tender relations of the two sexes, but a greatly exaggerated gallantry on the part of man, combining, in a remarkable way, the most heroic courage with the most lively faith and the most ardent religion. God and his lady; such is the constant thought of the knight; this absorbs all his faculties, occupies all his time, and fills up all his existence. As long as he can obtain a victory over the infidels, and is supported by the hope of offering at the feet of his lady the trophies of his triumph, no sacrifice costs him any thing, no journey fatigues, no danger affrights, no enterprise discourages him. His excited imagination transports him into a world of fancy; his heart is on fire; he undertakes all, he finishes all; and the man who has just fought like a lion on the plains of Spain, or of Palestine, melts like wax at the name of the idol of his heart; then he turns his eyes amorously towards his country, and is intoxicated with the idea that one day, sighing under the castle of his beloved, he may obtain a pledge of her affection, or a promise of love. Woe to any one who is bold enough to dispute his treasure, or indiscreet enough to fix his eyes on those battlements. The lioness who has been robbed of her cubs is not more terrible, the forest torn to pieces by the hurricane is not more agitated than his heart; nothing can stop his vengeance, he must destroy his rival or die. In examining this mixture of mildness and ferocity, of religion and passion, which, no doubt, has been exaggerated by the fancies of chroniclers and troubadours, but which must have had a real type, we shall observe that it was very natural at that time, and that it is not so contradictory as it appears at first sight. Indeed, nothing was more natural than violent passions among men whose ancestors, not long before, had come from the forests of the north to pitch their bloody tents on the site of ruined cities; nothing was more natural than that there should be no other judge than strength of arm among men whose only profession was war, and who lived in an embryo society, where there was no public law strong enough to restrain private passions. Nothing, too, was more natural to those men than a lively sense of religion, for religion was the only power which they acknowledged; she had enchanted their imaginations by the splendour and magnificence of her temples, by the majesty and pomp of her worship. She had filled them with astonishment, by placing before their eyes the most sublime virtue, by addressing them in language as lofty as it was sweet and insinuating; language, no doubt, imperfectly understood by them, but which, nevertheless, convinced them of the holiness and divinity of the Christian mysteries and precepts, inspired them with respect and admiration, and also exercising a powerful influence on their minds, enkindled enthusiasm and produced heroism. Thus we see that all that was good in this exalted sentiment emanated from religion; if we take away faith, we shall find nothing but the barbarian, who knew no other law than his spear, and no other rule of conduct than the inspirations of his fiery soul.

The more we penetrate into the spirit of chivalry and examine in particular the feelings which it professed towards women, the more we shall see that, instead of raising them, it supposes them already raised and surrounded by respect. Chivalry does not give a new place to women; it finds them already honoured and respected; and indeed, if it were not so, how could it imagine a gallantry so exaggerated, so fantastical? But if we imagine to ourselves the beauty of a virgin covered by the veil of Christian modesty; if we imagine this charm increased by illusion, we shall then understand the madness of the knight. If we imagine, at the same time, the virtuous matron, the companion of man, the mother of a family, the only woman in whom were concentrated all the affections of husband and children, the Christian wife, we shall understand why the knight was intoxicated at the mere idea of obtaining so much happiness, why his love was more than a sensual feeling, it was a respect, a veneration, a worship.

It has been attempted to find the origin of this kind of worship in the manners of the Germans; on the strength of some expressions of Tacitus, the social amelioration of woman's lot has been attributed to the respect with which the barbarians surrounded her. M. Guizot rejects this assertion, and justly combats it by observing that what Tacitus tells us of the Germans was not exclusively applicable to them, since "phrases similar to those of Tacitus, and sentiments and customs analogous to those of the ancient Germans, are met with in the statements of many observers of savage or barbarous nations." Yet in spite of this wise remark, the same opinion has been maintained: it is necessary, then, to combat it again.

The passage of Tacitus is this: "Inesse quin etiam sanctum aliquid et providum putant, nec aut consilia eorum aspernantur, aut responsa negligunt. Vidimus sub Divo Vespasiano Velledam diu apud plerosque numinis loco habitare." (De Mor. Germ.) "They go so far as to think that there is in women something holy and prophetical; they do not despise their counsels, and they listen to their predictions. In the time of the divine Vespasian, we have seen the greater part of them for a long time regard Velleda as a goddess." It seems to me that it is mistaking the passage of Tacitus, to extend its meaning to domestic manners, and to see in it a trait of married life. If we attend to the historian's words, we shall see that such an explanation is far from his idea. His words only relate to the superstition which made the people attribute to some women the prophetic character. Even the example chosen by Tacitus serves to show the truth and justness of this observation. "Velleda," he says, "was regarded as a goddess." In another part of his works, Tacitus explains his idea by telling us, of this same Velleda, "that this girl of the nation of Bructeres enjoyed great power, owing to an ancient custom among the Germans, which made them look upon many women as prophetesses, and, in fine, with the progress of superstition, as real divinities." "Ea virgo nationis Bructeræ late imperitabat, vetere apud Germanos more quo plerasque fœminarum fatidicas et augescente superstitione arbitrantur deas." (Hist. 4.) The text which I have just quoted proves to demonstration that Tacitus speaks of superstition and not of family regulations, very different things; as it might easily happen that some women were regarded as divinities, while the rest of their sex only occupied a place in society inferior to that which belonged to them. At Athens, great importance was given to the priestesses of Ceres; at Rome to the Vestals, the Pythonesses; and the history of the Sibyls shows that it was not peculiar to the Germans to attribute the prophetical character to women. It is not for me now to explain the cause of these facts; it is enough for my purpose to state them; perhaps, on this point, physiology might throw light on the philosophy of history.

When Tacitus, in the same work, describes the severity of the manners of the Germans with respect to marriage, it is easy to observe that the order of superstition and the order of the family were among them very different. We have no longer here any thing of the sanctum et providum; we find only a jealous austerity in maintaining the line of duty; and we see woman, instead of being regarded as a goddess, given up to the vengeance of the husband, if she has been unfaithful. This curious passage proves that the power of man over woman was not much limited by the customs of the Germans. "Accisis crinibus," says Tacitus, "nudatam coram propinquis expellit domo maritus, ac per omnem vicum verbere agit." "After having cut off her hair, the husband drives her from his house in presence of her relations, and beats her with rods ignominiously through the village." Certainly this punishment gives us an idea of the infamy which was attached to adultery among the Germans; but it was little calculated to increase the respect entertained for them publicly; this would have been greater had they been stoned to death.

When we read in Tacitus the description of the social state of the Germans, we must not forget that some traits of their manners are purposely embellished by him, which is very natural for a writer of his sentiments. We must not forget that Tacitus was indignant and afflicted at the sight of the fearful corruption of manners at that time in Rome. He paints, it is true, in glowing colours, the sanctity of marriage among the Germans; but who does not see that, when doing so, he had before his eyes matrons who, according to Seneca, reckoned their years not by the succession of consuls, but by change of husbands, and women without a shadow of modesty, given up to the greatest profligacy? We can easily see to whom he alludes when he makes these severe remarks: "Nemo enim illic vitia ridet, nec corrumpere et corrumpi sæculum vocatur." "There vice is not laughed at, and corruption is not called the fashion." A strong expression, which describes the age, and explains to us the secret joy with which Tacitus cast in the face of Rome, so refined and so corrupted, the pure image of German manners. That which sharpened the raillery of Juvenal andenvenomed his bitter satires, excited the indignation of Tacitus, and drew from his grave philosophy these severe reprimands. Other information which we possess shows us that the pictures of Tacitus are embellished, and that the manners of this people were far from being as pure as he wishes to persuade us. Perhaps they may have been strict with respect to marriage; but it is certain that polygamy was not unknown among them. Cæsar, an eye-witness, relates, that the German king Ariovistus had two wives (De Bello Gallico, l. i.); and this was not a solitary instance, for Tacitus himself tells us that a few of them had several wives at once, not on account of sensuality, but for distinction. "Exceptis admodum paucis, qui non libidine, sed ob nobilitatem, pluribus nuptiis ambiuntur." This distinction, non libidine sed ob nobilitatem, is amusing; but it is clear that the kings and nobles, under one pretence or another, allowed themselves greater liberty than the severe historian would have approved of.

Who can tell what was the state of morality among those forests? If we may be allowed to conjecture by analogy, from the resemblance which may naturally be supposed to exist among the different nations of the North, what an idea might we conceive of it from certain customs of the Britons, who, in bodies of ten or twelve, had their wives in common; chiefly brothers with brothers, and fathers with sons; so that they were compelled to distinguish the families conventionally, by giving the children to him who had first married the woman! It is from Cæsar, an eye-witness, that we also learn this: "Uxores habent (Britanni) deni duodenique inter se communes, et maxime fratres cum fratribus et parentes cum liberis; sed si qui sunt ex his nati, eorum habentur liberi a quibus primum virgines quæque ductæ sunt." (De Bello Gallico, l. v.)

However this may have been, it is at least certain that the principle of monogamy was not so much respected among the Germans as people have been willing to suppose; an exception was made in favour of the nobles, that is, of the powerful; and that was enough to deprive the principle of all its force, and to prepare its ruin. In such a matter, to establish an exception to the law in favour of the powerful, is almost to abrogate it. It may be said, I admit, that the powerful will never want means of violating it; but it is one thing for the powerful to violate the law, and another for the law itself to retire before them, leaving the way open: in the first case, the employment of force does not destroy the law – the very shock which breaks it, makes its existence felt, and visibly shows the wrong and injustice; in the second case, the law prostitutes itself, if I may so speak; the passions have no need of force to open for themselves a passage, the law itself opens the door for them. From that time it remains degraded and disgraced; its own baseness has undermined the moral principle on which it was founded; and, owing to its own fault, it becomes itself the subject of animadversion to those who are still compelled to observe it. Thus the right of polygamy, once recognised among the Germans in favour of the great, must, with time, have become general among the other classes of the people; and it is very probable that this was the case when the conquest of more productive countries, the enjoyment of more genial climates, and some improvement in their social condition furnished them more abundantly with the means of gratifying their inclinations. An evil so great could only be withstood by the inflexible severity of the Catholic Church. Nobles and kings still had a strong inclination towards the privileges which we have seen their predecessors enjoying before they embraced the Christian religion. Thence it came that, in the first centuries after the irruption of the barbarians, the Church had so much trouble in restraining their violent inclinations. Would not those who have endeavored to find among the Germans so large a portion of the constitutive elements of modern civilization have shown more wisdom, if they had recognised, in the manners which we have been examining, one of the causes which made the struggles between the secular princes and the Church so frequent?

I do not see why we should seek in the forests of the barbarians for the origin of one of the finest attributes of our civilization, or why we should give to those nations virtues of which they showed so little evidence when they invaded the countries of the south.

Without monuments, without history – almost without any index as to their social condition – it is difficult, not to say impossible, to know any thing certain with respect to their manners; but I ask, what must have been their morality, in the midst of such ignorance, such superstition, and such barbarism?

The little that we know about these nations has been necessarily taken from the Roman historians; and unfortunately this is not one of the purest sources. It almost always happens that observers, especially when they are conquerors, only give some slight notions with regard to the political state of a people, and are almost silent as to their social and domestic condition. In order to form an idea of this part of the condition of a nation, it is necessary to mingle with them, and be intimate with them; now this is generally prevented by their different states of civilization, especially when the observers and the observed are exasperated against each other by long years of war and slaughter. Add to this, that, in such cases, the attention is particularly attracted by what favors or opposes the designs of the conquerors, who for the most part attach no great importance to moral subjects; this will show us how it is that nations who are observed in this way are only superficially known, and why such statements with respect to religion and manners are unworthy of much confidence.

The reader will judge whether these reflections are out of place in estimating the value of what the Romans have told us about the state of the barbarians. It is enough to fix our eyes on the scenes of blood and horror prevailing for centuries, which show us, on the one hand, the ambition of Rome, which, not content with the empire of the then known world, wished to extend its power over the most distant forests of the North; and, on the other, the indomitable spirit of barbarian independence, breaking in pieces the chains which were attempted to be imposed upon them, and destroying, by their bold incursions, the ramparts which the skill of the Roman generals labored to raise against them. See, then, what we ought to think of barbarian society, as described by Roman historians. What shall we think, if we consult the few traits which the barbarians themselves have left us, of their manners and maxims with respect to their social condition? It is always risking much to seek in barbarism for the origin of one of the most beautiful results of civilization, and to attribute to vague and superstitious feelings what, during centuries, forms the normal state of the most advanced nations. If these noble sentiments, which are represented to us as emanating from the barbarians, really existed among them, how did they avoid perishing in the midst of their migrations and revolutions? How did they alone remain, when every thing relating to the social condition of the barbarians disappeared?

These sentiments would not have been preserved in a stationary state, but we should have seen them stripped of their superstition and grossness, purified, ennobled, and made reasonable, just, salutary, chivalrous, and worthy of civilized nations. Such assertions have, from the first sight, the character of bold paradoxes. Certainly, when we have to explain great phenomena in the social order, it is rather more philosophical to seek for their origin in ideas which for a long time have exercised a powerful influence on society, in manners and institutions emanating from them, in laws, in fine, which have been recognised and respected for many centuries as established by Divine power.

Why, then, attempt to explain the respect in which women are held in Europe, by the superstitious veneration which barbarous nations offered in their forests to Velleda, Aurinia, and Gauna? Reason and good sense tell us that the real origin of this wonderful phenomenon is not to be found there, and that we must seek elsewhere for the causes which have contributed to produce it. History reveals to us these causes, and renders them palpable to us, by showing us facts which leave no doubt as to the source whence this powerful and salutary influence emanated. Before Christianity, woman, oppressed by the tyranny of man, was scarcely raised above the rank of slavery; her weakness condemned her to be the victim of the strong. The Christian religion, by its doctrines of fraternity in Jesus Christ, and equality before God, destroys the evil in its root, by teaching man that woman ought not to be his slave, but his companion. From that moment the amelioration of woman's lot was felt wherever Christianity was spread; and woman, as far as the degradation of ancient manners allowed, began to gather the fruit of a doctrine which was to make a complete change in her condition, by giving her a new existence. This is one of the principal causes of the amelioration of woman's lot: a sensible, palpable cause, which is easily shown without making any gratuitous supposition, a cause which is not founded on conjecture, but which appears evident on the first glance at the most notorious facts of history.

Moreover, Catholicity, by the severity of its morality, by the lofty protection which it affords to the delicate feeling of modesty, corrected and purified manners; thus it very much elevated woman, whose dignity is incompatible with corruption and licentiousness. In fine, Catholicity itself, or the Catholic Church, (and observe, I do not say Christianity,) by its firmness in establishing and preserving monogamy and the indissolubility of the marriage tie, restrained the caprices of man, and made him concentrate his affections on one wife, who could not be divorced. Thus woman passed from a state of slavery to that of the companion of man. The instrument of pleasure was changed into the mother of a family, respected by her children and servants. Thus was created in the family identity of interests; thus was guarantied the education of children, which produced the close intimacy which among us unites husband and wife, parents and children. The atrocious right of life and death was destroyed; the father had not even the right to inflict punishments too severe; and all this admirable system was strengthened by ties strong but mild, was based on the principles of sound morality, sustained by prevailing manners, guarantied and protected by the laws, fortified by reciprocal interests, sanctioned by time, and endeared by love. This is the truly satisfactory explanation of the enigma; this is the origin of the honor and dignity of woman in Europe; thence we have derived the organization of the family, – an inestimable benefit which Europeans possess without appreciating it, without being sufficiently acquainted with it, and watching over its preservation as they ought.

In treating of this important matter, I have purposely distinguished between Christianity and Catholicity, in order to avoid a confusion in words, which would have entailed a confusion in things. In reality, the true, the only Christianity is Catholicity; but, unfortunately, we cannot now employ these words indiscriminately, not only on account of Protestantism, but also on account of the monstrous philosophico-Christian nomenclature which ranks Christianity among philosophical sects, as if it were nothing more than a system imagined by man. As the principle of charity plays a great part wherever the religion of Jesus Christ is found, and as this principle is evident even to the eyes of the incredulous, philosophers who have wished to persevere in their incredulity without incurring the scandalous epithet of disciples of Voltaire, have adopted the words fraternity and humanity, to make them the theme of their instructions; they have consented to give to Christianity the chief glory of originating its sublime ideas and generous sentiments: thus they appear not to contradict the history of the past as the philosophy of the age gone by in its madness did; but they pretend to accommodate all to the present time, and prepare the way for a greater and happier future. For these philosophers Christianity is not a divine religion; by no means. With them it is an idea, fortunate, magnificent, and fruitful in grand results, but purely human; it is the result of long and painful human labors. Polytheism, Judaism, the philosophy of the East, of Egypt, of Greece, were all preparatory to that great work. Jesus Christ, according to them, only moulded into form an idea which was in embryo in the bosom of humanity. He fixed and developed it, and, by reducing it to practice, made the human race to take a step of great importance in the path of progress into which it has entered. But, He is always, in the eyes of these philosophers, nothing more than a philosopher of Judea, as Socrates was of Greece, and Seneca of Rome. Still we should rejoice that they grant to Him this human existence, and do not transform Him into a mythological being, by considering the Gospel narrative as a mere allegory.