Protestantism and Catholicity

Thus, at the present time, it is of the first importance to distinguish between Christianity and Catholicity, whenever we have to bring to light and present to the gratitude of mankind the unspeakable benefits for which they are indebted to the Christian religion. It is necessary to show that what has regenerated the world was not an idea thrown at hazard among all those who have struggled for preference and pre-eminence; but that it was a collection of truths sent from Heaven, transmitted to the human race by a God made Man, by means of a society formed and authorized by Himself, in order to perpetuate to the end of time the work which His word had established, which His miracles had sanctioned, and which He had sealed with His blood. It is consequently necessary to exhibit this society, that is, the Catholic Church, realizing in her laws and institutions the inspirations and instructions of her Divine Master, and accomplishing the lofty mission of leading men towards eternal happiness, while ameliorating their condition here below, and consoling them in this land of misfortune. In this way we form a correct idea of Christianity, if we may so speak, or rather we show it as it really is, not as men vainly represent it. And observe, that we ought never to fear for the truth, when the facts of history are fully and searchingly examined. If in the vast field into which our investigations lead us, we sometimes find ourselves in obscurity, walking for a long time in dark vaults which the rays of the sun do not visit, and where the soil under our feet threatens to swallow us up, let us fear nothing, let us advance with courage and confidence; amid the darkest windings we shall discover at a distance the light that shines upon the end of our journey; we shall see truth seated on the threshold, placidly smiling at our terrors and anxieties.

To philosophers, as well as to Protestants, we would say, if Christianity were not realized in a visible society, always in contact with man, and provided with the authority necessary for teaching and guiding him, it would be only a theory, like all others that have been and still are seen on the earth; consequently it would be either altogether sterile, or at least unable to produce any of those great works which endure unimpaired for ages. Now one of these is undoubtedly Christian marriage, and the family organization which has been its immediate consequence. It would have been vain to advance notions favorable to the dignity of woman and tending to improve her lot, if the sanctity of marriage had not been guarantied by a power generally acknowledged and revered. That power is continually struggling against the passions which labor to overcome it; what would have happened if they had had to contend with no other obstacle than a philosophic theory, or a religious idea without reality in society, and without power to obtain submission and obedience?

We have, then, no need of recurring to that extravagant philosophy which seeks for light in the midst of darkness, and which, on seeing order arise out of chaos, has conceived the singular notion of affirming that it was produced by it. If we find in the doctrines, in the laws of the Catholic Church the origin of the sanctity of marriage and the dignity of woman, why should we seek for it in the manners of brutal barbarians, who had no veil for modesty and the privacy of the nuptial couch? Let us hear Cæsar speaking of the Germans: "Nulla est occultatio, quod et promiscui in fluminibus perluuntur, et pellibus aut rhenorum tegumentis utuntur, magna corporis parte nuda." (De Bello Gall., l. vi.)

I have been obliged to oppose authority to authority; I was under the necessity of destroying the fantastical systems into which men have been seduced by an over love of subtilty, by the mania of finding extraordinary causes for phenomena, the origin of which may easily be discovered when we have recourse, in good faith and sincerity, to the concurring instructions of philosophy and history. It was highly necessary, in order to clear up one of the most delicate questions in the history of the human race, and to find the source of one of the most fruitful elements of European civilization. My task was nothing less than to explain the organization of families, that is, to fix one of the poles on which the axis of society turns.

Let Protestantism boast of having introduced divorce, of having deprived marriage of the beautiful and sublime character of a sacrament, of having withdrawn from the care and protection of the Church the most important act of human life; let it rejoice in having destroyed the sacred asylums of virgins consecrated to God; let it declaim against the most angelic and heroic virtue; let us, after having defended the doctrine and conduct of the Catholic Church at the tribunal of philosophy and history, conclude by appealing to the judgment, not indeed of high philosophy, but of good sense and feeling.18

CHAPTER XXVIII.

OF THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE IN GENERAL

When enumerating, in the twentieth chapter, the characteristics which mark European civilization, I pointed out, as one of them, "an admirable public conscience, rich in sublime maxims of morality, in rules of justice and equity, in sentiments of honor and dignity, a conscience which survives the shipwreck of private morality, and does not allow the open corruption to go so far as it did in ancient times." We must now explain more at length in what this public conscience consists, what is its origin, what are its results, showing at the same time what share Catholicity and Protestantism have had in its formation. This delicate and important question is, I will venture to say, untouched; at least I do not know that it has yet been attempted. Men constantly speak of the excellence of Christian morality, and on this point all the sects, all the schools of Europe are agreed; but they do not pay sufficient attention to the way in which that morality has become predominant, by first destroying Pagan corruption, then by maintaining itself for centuries in spite of the ravages of infidelity, so as to form an admirable public conscience; a benefit which we now enjoy without appreciating it as we ought, and without even thinking of it. In order fully to comprehend this matter, it is above all necessary to form a clear idea of what is meant by conscience. Conscience in the general, or rather ideological sense of the word, means the knowledge which each man has of his own acts. Thus we say that the soul is conscious of its thoughts, of the acts of its will, and of its sensations; so that the word conscience, taken in this sense, expresses a perception of what we do and feel. Applied to the moral order, this word signifies the judgment which we ourselves form of our actions as good or evil. Thus, when we are about to perform an action, conscience points it out to us as good or bad, and consequently lawful or unlawful; and it thus directs our conduct. The action being performed, it tells us whether we have done well or ill, it excuses or condemns us, it rewards us with peace of mind, or punishes us with remorse.

This explanation being given, we shall easily understand what is meant by public conscience; it is nothing but the judgment formed of their actions by the generality of men. It results from this that, like private conscience, the public conscience may be right or wrong, strict or relaxed; and that there must be differences on this point among societies of men, the same as there are among individuals; that is to say, that, as in the same society we find men whose consciences are more or less right or wrong, more or less strict or relaxed, we must also find societies superior to others in the justice of the judgment which they form on actions, and in the delicacy of their moral appreciation.

If we observe closely, we shall see that individual conscience is the result of widely different causes. It is an error to suppose that conscience resides solely in the intelligence; it is also rooted in the heart. It is a judgment, it is true; but we judge of things in a very different way according to the manner in which we feel them. Add to this, that the feelings have an immense influence on moral ideas and actions; the result is, that conscience is formed under the influence of all the causes which forcibly act on our hearts. Communicate to two children the same moral principles, by teaching them from the same book and under the same master; but suppose that one in his own family sees what he is taught constantly practised, while the other sees there nothing but indifference to it; suppose, moreover, that these two children grow up with the same moral and religious conviction, so that as far as the intellect is concerned there is no difference between them; nevertheless, do you believe that their judgment of the morality of actions will be the same? By no means; and why? Because the one has only convictions, while the other has also feelings. In the one, the doctrine enlightens the mind; while, in the other, example engraves it constantly on the heart. Thus what one regards with indifference, the other looks upon with horror; what the one does with negligence, the other performs with the greatest care; and the same subject that to one is of slight interest, is to the other of the highest importance.

Public conscience, which, in fact, is the sum of private consciences, is subject to the same influences as they are; so that mere instruction is not enough for it, and it requires the concurrence of other causes to act on the heart, as well as the mind. When we compare Christian with pagan society, we instantly see that the former must be infinitely superior to the latter on this point; not only on account of the purity of its morality, and the strength of the principles and motives sanctioning it, but also because it follows the wise course of continually inculcating this morality, and impressing it strongly on the mind by constant repetition. By this constant repetition of the same truths, Christianity has done what other religions never could do; none of them, indeed, have ever succeeded in organizing and putting into practice so important a system. But I have said enough on this point in the fourteenth chapter; it is useless to repeat it here; I pass on to some observations on the public conscience in Europe.

It cannot be denied that, generally speaking, reason and justice prevail in that public conscience. If you examine laws and actions, you will not find those shocking acts of injustice or those revolting immoralities which are to be met with among other nations. There are certainly evils, and very grave ones, but they are at least acknowledged, and called by their right names. We do not hear good called evil, or evil good; that is to say, society, in certain things, is like those persons of good principles and bad morals who are the first to acknowledge that their conduct is blamable, and that their words and deeds contradict each other. We often lament the corruption of morals, the profligacy of our large towns; but what is all the corruption and profligacy of modern society compared with the debauchery of the ancients? It certainly cannot be denied that there is a fearful extent of dissoluteness in some of the capitals of Europe. The records of the police, as well as those of the benevolent establishments where the fruits of crime are received, show shocking demoralization. In the highest classes dreadful ravages are caused by conjugal infidelity, and all sorts of dissipation and disorder; yet these excesses are very far from reaching the extent which they did among the best-governed nations of antiquity, the Greeks and Romans. So that our society, which we so bitterly lament, would have appeared to them a model of modesty and decorum. Need we call to mind the infamous vices then so common and so public, and which have scarcely a name among us now, whether it be because they are so rarely committed, or because the fear of public conscience forces them to hide themselves in the dark places, and, so to speak, in the bowels of the earth? Need we recall to mind the infamies which stain the writings of the ancients as often as they describe the manners of their times? Names illustrious in science and in arms have passed down to posterity with stains so black that we cannot consent to describe them. Now, how corrupt must have been the state of the other classes, when such degradation was attributed to men who, by their elevated positions or other circumstances, were the lights of society!

You talk of the avarice which is so prevalent now-a-days; but look at the usurers of antiquity who sucked the blood of the people everywhere; read the satirical poets, and you will see what was the state of manners on this point; consult, in fine, the annals of the Church, and you will see what pains she took to diminish the effects of this vice; read the history of ancient Rome, and you will find the cursed thirst for gold, and lenders without mercy, who, after having impudently robbed, carried in triumph the fruits of their rapine to live with scandalous ostentation, and buy votes again to raise them to command. No, in European civilization, among nations taught and elevated by Christianity, such evils would not be long tolerated. If we suppose administrative disorder, tyranny, and corruption of morals carried as far as you please, still public opinion would raise its voice and frown on the oppressors. Partial injustice may be committed, but rapine will never be formed into a shameless system, or be regarded as the rule of government. Rely upon it, the words justice, morality, humanity, which constantly resound in our midst, are not vain words; this language produces great results; it destroys immense evils. These ideas impregnate the atmosphere we breathe; they frequently restrain the arm of criminals, and resist with incredible force materialistic and utilitarian doctrines; they continue to exert an incalculable influence on society. We have among us a feeling of morality which mollifies and governs all; which is so powerful that vice is compelled to assume the appearance of virtue, and cover itself with many veils, in order to escape becoming the subject of public execration.

Modern society, it would seem, ought to have inherited the corruption of the old, since it was formed out of its ruins, at a time when its morals were most dissolute. We must observe, that the irruption of the barbarians, far from improving society, contributed, on the contrary, to make it worse; and this, not only on account of the corruption belonging to their fierce and brutal manners, but also on account of the disorder introduced among the nations they invaded, by violating laws, throwing their manners and customs into confusion, and destroying all authority. Whence it follows, that the improvement of public opinion among modern nations is a very singular fact; and that this progress can only be attributed to the influence of the active and energetic principle which has existed in the bosom of Europe for so many centuries.

Let us observe the conduct of the Church on this point – it is perhaps one of the most important facts in the history of the middle ages. Imagine an age when corruption and injustice most unblushingly raised their heads, and you will see that, however impure and disgusting the fact may be, the law is always pure; that is to say, that reason and justice always found some one to proclaim them, even when they appeared to be listened to by nobody. The state of ignorance was the darkest, licentious passions were uncontrolled; but the instructions and admonitions of the Church were never wanting; it is thus that, amidst the darkest night, the lighthouse shines from afar, to guide the mariners in safety.

When in reading the history of the Church we see on all sides assembled councils proclaiming the principles of the gospel morality, while at every step we meet with the most scandalous proceedings; when we constantly hear inculcated the laws which are so often trodden under foot, it is natural to ask, of what use was all this, and of what benefit were instructions thus unheeded? Let us not believe that these proclamations were useless, nor lose courage if we have to wait long for their fruits.

A principle which is proclaimed for a long time in society will in the end acquire influence; if it is true, and consequently contains an element of life, it will prevail in the end over all that opposes it, and will rule over all around it. Allow, then, the truth to speak – allow it to protest continually; this will prevent the prescription of vice. Thus vice will preserve its proper name; and you will prevent misguided men from deifying their passions, and placing them on their altars after having adored them in their hearts. Be confident that this protest will not be useless. Truth in the end will be victorious and triumphant; for the protests of truth are the voice of God condemning the usurpations of His creatures. This is what really happened; Christian morality, first contending with the corrupt manners of the empire, and afterwards with the brutality of the barbarians, had for centuries rude shocks to sustain; but at last it triumphed over all, and succeeded in governing legislation and public morals. We do not mean to say that it succeeded in raising law and morals to the degree of perfection which the purity of the gospel morality required, but at least it did away the most shocking injustice; it banished the most savage customs; it restrained the license of the most shameless manners; it everywhere gave vice its proper name; it painted it in its real colors, and prevented its being deified as impudently as it was among the ancients. In modern times, it has had to contend against the school which proclaims that private interest is the only principle of morals; it has not been able, it is true, to prevent this fatal doctrine from causing great evils, but at least it has sensibly diminished them. Unhappy for the world will be the day when men shall say without disguise, "My own advantage is my virtue; my honor is what is useful to myself; all is good or evil, according as it is pleasing or displeasing to me." Unhappy for the world will be the day when such language will no longer be repudiated by public conscience. The opportunity now presenting itself, and wishing to explain so important a matter as fully as possible, I will make some observations on an opinion of Montesquieu respecting the censors of Greece and Rome. This digression will not be foreign to the purpose.

CHAPTER XXIX.

OF THE PRINCIPLE OF PUBLIC CONSCIENCE ACCORDING TO MONTESQUIEU – HONOR – VIRTUE

Montesquieu has said that republics are preserved by virtue, and monarchies by honor. He observes, moreover, that honor renders the censors, who were required among the ancients, unnecessary among us. True it is, that in modern times there are no censors charged with watching over the public morals; but the cause of this is not as stated by this famous publicist. Among Christian nations, the ministers of religion are the natural censors of public morals. The plenitude of this office belongs to the Church, with this difference, that the censorial power of the ancients was purely civil, while that of the Church is a religious power, which has its origin and sanction in divine authority. The religion of Greece and Rome neither did, nor could, exercise this censorial power over morals. To be convinced of this, it is enough to read the passage from St. Augustine, quoted in the fourteenth chapter – a passage so interesting on this matter, that I will venture to ask the reader to peruse it again. This is the reason why we find among the Greeks and Romans censors who are not seen among Christian nations. These censors were an addition to the Pagan religion, the impotence of which they clearly showed – a religion which was mistress of society, and yet could not fulfil one of the first duties of all religions – that of watching over the public morals. What I assert is so perfectly true, that in proportion as the influence of religion and the ascendency of its ministers have been lowered among modern nations, the ancient censors have reappeared in some sort in the institution of police. When moral means are wanting, it is necessary to have recourse to physical ones; violence is substituted for persuasion, and instead of a zealous and charitable missionary, delinquents fall into the hands of the ministers of public justice.

Much has been already written of the system of Montesquieu, with respect to the principles on which the different forms of government are based; but perhaps sufficient attention has not been paid to the phenomenon which has served to mislead him. As this question is intimately connected with the point which I have just touched upon, in relation to the existence of the censorial authority, I shall explain myself at some length. In the time of Montesquieu, the Christian religion was not so fully understood as it now is with respect to its social importance; and although on this point the author of the Esprit des Lois has done homage to her, it is well to remember what were his antichristian prejudices during his youth, and also that this work is still far from rendering to the true religion what is due to her. The ideas of an irreligious philosophy which, some years later, misled so many fine intellects, had begun at that time to gain the ascendant, and Montesquieu had not sufficient strength of mind to make a decided opposition to the prejudices which threatened universal dominion. To this cause we must add another, which, although distinct from the last, yet had the same origin, viz. a prejudice in favor of all that was old, and a blind admiration for every thing Roman or Grecian. It seemed to the philosophers of that time, that social and political perfection had reached their greatest height among the ancients, that there was nothing to be added to or taken from it, and that even in religion the fables and festivals of antiquity were a thousand times preferable to the faith and worship of the Christian religion. In the eyes of the new philosophers, the heaven of the Apocalypse could not sustain a comparison with that of the Elysian fields; the majesty of Jehovah was inferior to that of Jupiter; all the loftiest Christian institutions were a legacy of ignorance and fanaticism; the most holy and beneficent institutions were the work of tortuous and interested views – the vehicle and expression of sordid interests; public authority was only an atrocious tyranny; and the only noble, just, and salutary institutions were those of Paganism. There every thing was wise, and evinced profound designs highly advantageous to society; the ancients alone had enjoyed social advantages, and had succeeded in organizing public authority, with guarantees for the liberty of citizens. Modern nations should bitterly lament not being able to mingle in the agitation of the forum, being deprived of such orators as Demosthenes and Cicero, – having no Olympic games, or contests of athletæ; in fine, they must always regret a religion which, although full of illusion and falsehood, gave to all nature a dramatic interest, gave life to fountains, rivers, cascades, and seas, peopled the fields, the meadows, and the woods with beautiful nymphs, gave to man gods as the companions of his hearth, and above all, knew how to render life pleasant and charming, by giving full scope to all the passions, and deifying them under the most enchanting forms.

How, in the midst of such prejudices, was it possible to discover the truth in modern institutions? Every thing was in the most deplorable state of confusion; all that was established was condemned without appeal, and every one who attempted to defend it was considered a fool or a knave. Religion and political constitutions, which seemed destined soon to disappear, could reckon on no other support than the prejudices or the interests of governments. Lamentable aberration of the human mind! What would these writers now say if they could arise from their tombs? And yet a century has not yet elapsed since the epoch when their school began to acquire its influence. They have, for a long time, ruled the world at their pleasure; and they have only shed torrents of blood, heaping lesson upon lesson, and deception upon deception, in the history of humanity.

But let us return to Montesquieu. This publicist, who was so much affected by the atmosphere in which he lived, and who had no small share in perverting the age, saw the facts which are here so apparent; he recognised the results of that public opinion which has been created among European nations by the influence of Christianity. But while observing the effects, he did not ascertain the real causes, and labored in every way to accommodate them to his own system. In comparing ancient with modern society, he discovered between them a remarkable difference in the conduct of men; he observed that we see accomplished among us the noblest and most heroic actions, while we avoid a great part of the vices which defile the ancients; but, on the other hand, Montesquieu, like others, could not help seeing that men among us have not always that high moral aim which ought to be the motive of their laudable conduct. Avarice, ambition, love of pleasure, and other passions, still reign in the world, and are easily discovered everywhere. Still these passions do not reach the excess they did among the ancients; there is a mysterious power which restrains them; before giving way to their impulses, they throw a cautious glance around them, and do not indulge in certain excesses unless they are sure of being able to do so in secret. They have great dread of being seen by man; they can only live in solitude and darkness. The author of the Esprit des Lois asked himself what is the cause of this phenomenon. Men, he said to himself, often act, not from moral virtue, but from respect for the judgment which other men will pass upon their actions; this is to act from honor. Now, this is the case in France and in the other monarchies of Europe; it must be, therefore, the distinctive characteristic of monarchical governments; it must be the base of that form of government, the distinction between a republic and despotism. Let us hear the author himself: "Dans quel governement," says he, "faut il des censeurs? Il en faut dans une république, où le principe du governement est la vertu. Ce ne sont pas seulement les crimes qui detruisent la vertu, mais encore les negligences, les fautes, une certaine tiédeur dans l'amour de la patrie, des exemples dangereux, des semences de corruption; ce qui ne choque point les lois, mais les élude; ce qui ne les détruit pas, mais les affaiblit. Tout cela doit être corrigé par les censeurs. * * * Dans les monarchies il ne faut point de censeurs, elles sont fondées sur l'honneur; et la nature de l'honneur est d'avoir pour censeur tout l'univers. Tout homme qui y manque est soumis aux reproches de ceux mêmes qui n'en ont point." (De l'Esprit des Lois, liv. v. chap. 19.) Such is the opinion of this publicist. But if we reflect on the matter, we shall see that he was wrong in transferring to politics, and explaining by simply political causes, a fact purely social. Montesquieu points out, as the distinguishing characteristic of monarchies, what is the general characteristic of all modern European society; he seems not to have understood why the institution of censors was not necessary in Europe, any more than he did the real reason why they were required among the ancients. Monarchical forms have not exclusively prevailed in Europe. Powerful republics have existed there; and there are still some not to be despised. Monarchy itself has undergone numerous modifications; it has been allied sometimes with democracy, sometimes with aristocracy; sometimes its power has been very limited, and sometimes it has been unbounded; and yet we always find this restraint which Montesquieu speaks of, and which he calls honor; that is, a powerful influence stimulating to good deeds and deterring from bad, and all this from respect for the judgments which other men will pass.