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on eternal foundations. This, indeed, is found and felt every where, it governs the good and is respected even by the evil; this is what would stop the licentious man, who, in a case of this sort, would be inclined to indulge his cruelty or his other passions. The author of the Esprit des Lois would doubtless have perceived these truths if he had not been prejudiced by the favourite distinction established at the beginning of his work, and which throughout bound him to an inflexible system. We know what a preconceived system is-one that serves as the mould for a work. Like the bed of Procrustes, ideas and facts, right or wrong, are accommodated to the system; what is too much is taken away, and what is wanting is added. Thus Montesquieu finds in political motives, founded on the republican form of government, the reason for the power exercised over Roman women by their husbands. The cruel rights given to fathers over their children, the unlimited paternal power established by the Roman laws, also appeared to him to flow from political causes, as if it were not evident that these two regulations of the ancient Roman law were owing to causes purely domestic and social, altogether independent of the form of government. (19.)

CHAPTER XXX.

ON THE DIFFERENT INFLUENCE OF PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICISM ON THE PUBLIC

CONSCIENCE.

We have defined the nature of the public conscience; we have pointed out its origin and effects. It now remains to examine whether Protestantism has had any share in forming it, and whether it is fairly entitled to the glory of having been of any service to European civilisation on this point. We have already shewn that the origin of this public conscience is to be found in Christianity. Now Christianity may be considered under two aspects as a doctrine, and as an institution intended to realise that doctrine; that is to say, Christian morality may be considered in itself, or as taught and inculcated by the Church. To form the public conscience, and make Christian morality regu

late it, the announcement of that doctrine was not enough; there was still required a society, not only to preserve it in all its purity, that it might be transmitted from generation to generation, but to preach it incessantly to man, and to apply it continually to all the acts of life. We must observe that ideas, however powerful they may be, have only a precarious existence until they are realised, and become embodied, as it were, in an institution which, while it is animated, moved, and guided by them, serves them as a rampart against the attacks of other ideas and other interests. Man is formed of body and soul; the whole world is a collection of spiritual and corporeal beings—a system of moral and physical relations; thus it is that all ideas, even the greatest and the loftiest, begin to fall into oblivion when they have no outward expression-no organ by which they make themselves heard and respected. They are then confounded and overwhelmed amid the confusion of the world, and in the end disappear altogether. Therefore, all ideas that are to have a lasting influence on society, necessarily tend to create an institution to represent them, in which they may be personified; not satisfied with addressing themselves to the mind, and with descending to practice by indirect means, they seek to give form to matter, they present themselves to the eyes of humanity in a palpable manner. These observations, which I submit with confidence to the judgment of sensible men, contain a condemnation of the Protestant system. So far from the pretended Reformation being able to claim any part in the salutary events which we are explaining, we should rather say that, by its principles and conduct, it would have been an obstacle in their way, if, as was happily the case, Europe had not been of adult age in the 16th century, and consequently almost incapable of losing the doctrines, the feelings, the habits and tendencies which the Catholic Church had communicated to it during an education of so many centuries. Indeed, the first thing that Protestantism did was to attack authority, not by a mere act of resistance, but by proclaiming resistance to be a real right, by establishing private judgment as a dogma. From that moment Christian morality remained without support, for there was no longer a society which could claim

the right of explaining and teaching it ; that is to say, it was reduced to the level of those ideas which, not being represented or supported by an institution, and not having any authorised organ to explain them, possessed no direct means of acting on society, and had no means of protection when attacked.

But I shall be told that Protestantism has preserved the institution which realises this idea; for it has preserved its ministers, worship, and preaching-in a word, all that truth requires in dealing with man.

I will not deny that there is some truth in this, and I will repeat what I have not hesitated to affirm in the fourteenth chapter of this work, "That we ought to regard it as a great good, that the first Protestants, in spite of their desire to upset all the practices of the Church, have yet preserved that of preaching." I added in the same place: "It is not necessary to deny on this account the evils produced at certain times by the declamation of some ministers, either furious or fanatical; but as unity was broken, and as the people had been hurried into the perilous path of schism, we say that it must have been very conducive to the preservation of the most important ideas concerning God and man, and the fundamental maxims of morality, for such truths to be frequently explained to the people by men who had long studied them in the Holy Scriptures." I repeat here what I there said: preaching practised among Protestants must have had very good effects; but this only amounts to saying, that it did not do so much mischief as was to be feared from its own principles. On this point, they were like men of immoral opinions, who are not so bad as they would have been, had their hearts been in accordance with their minds: they had the good fortune to be inconsistent. Protestantism had proclaimed the abolition of authority, and the right of private judgment without limit; but in practice it did not quite act up to these doctrines. Thus, it devoted itself with ardour to what it called gospel preaching, and its ministers were called Gospellers. So that, at the very time when they just established the principle that every individual had the free right of private judgment, and ought to be guided by reason or private inspiration alone, without listening to any external authority, Protestant minis

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ters were seen spreading themselves every where, and claiming to be the legitimate organs of the divine word.

The better to understand the strange nature of such a doctrine, we must remember the maxims of Luther with respect to the priesthood. We know that this heresiarch, embarrassed by the hierarchy which constitutes the ministry of the Church, pretended to overturn it at one blow, by maintaining that all Christians are priests, and that, to exercise the sacred ministry, a simple appointment is necessary, which adds nothing essential or characteristic to the quality of priests, which is the universal patrimony of all Christians. It follows from this doctrine, that the Protestant preacher wanting a mission is not distinguished from other Christians by any characteristic; he cannot, consequently, speak to them with any authority; he is not allowed, like Jesus Christ, to speak quasi potestatem habens (as having authority); he is nothing more than an orator who addresses the people with no other right than what he derives from his education, knowledge, or eloquence.

This preaching without authority, which, in reality and according to the preacher's own principles, was only human, although it committed the glaring inconsistency of pretending to be divine, may, no doubt, have contributed something to the preservation of good moral principles when they were already every where established; but it would certainly have been unable to establish them in a society where they were unknown, especially if it had to struggle with other principles directly opposed to it, and supported by ancient prejudices, by deeply rooted passions, and by strong in

terests.

Yes, we repeat it, this preaching would have been unable to introduce its principles into such a society; unable to preserve them in safety amid the most alarming revolutions and the most unexampled catastrophes; unable to impart them to barbarous nations, who, proud of their triumph, listened to no other voice than that of their ferocious instinct; unable to make the conquerors and the conquered bow before these principles, to mould the most different nations into one people, by stamping on their laws, institutions, and manners the same seal, in order

to form from them that admirable society, that assemblage of nations, or rather that one great nation, which is called Europe. In a word, Protestantism, from its very constitution, would have been incapable of realising what the Catholic Church has done.

Moreover, this attempted preaching preserved by Protestantism, is, at bottom, an effort to imitate the Church, that it may not remain unarmed in the presence of so redoubtable an adversary. It required a means of influencing the people,-a channel open to communicate, at the will of each usurper of religious authority, different interpretations of the Bible; this is the reason why, in spite of violent declamation against all that emanated from the chair of St. Peter, it preserved the valuable practice of preaching.

But the best way to feel the inferiority of Protestantism with respect to the knowledge and comprehension of the means proper to extend and to strengthen morality, and to make it prevail in all the acts of life, is to observe, that it has interrupted all communication between the conscience of the faithful and the direction of the priest; it only leaves to the latter a general direction, which, owing to its being extended over all at the same time, is exerted with effect over none. If we confine ourselves to the consideration of the abolition of the sacrament of Penance among Protestants, we may rest assured that they have thereby given up one of the most legitimate, powerful, and gentle means of rendering human conduct conformable to the principles of sound morality. Its action is legitimate; for nothing can be more legitimate than direct and intimate communication between the conscience of man who is to be judged by God, and the conscience of the man who represents God on earth ;—an action which is powerful, because this intimate communication, established between man and man, between soul and soul, identifies, as it were, the thoughts and affections; because, in the presence of God alone, to the exclusion of every other witness, admonitions have more force, precepts more authority, and advice more unction and sweetness to penetrate into the inmost soul; -an action full of gentleness, for it supposes the voluntary manifestation of the conscience which seeks guidance a manifestation which is commanded, it is true. by authority,

but which cannot be enforced by violence, as God alone is the judge of its sincerity;an action, I repeat, which is gentle, for the minister is compelled to the strictest secrecy; all imaginable precautions have been taken by the Church to prevent a betrayal, and man may rest with tranquillity in the assurance that the secrets of his conscience will never be revealed.

But you will ask me, do you believe all this is necessary to establish and preserve a good state of morality? If morality is to be any thing more than a mere worldly probity, exposed to destruction at the first shock of interest, or to be seduced by the passions; if it is to be a morality delicate, strict, and profound, extending over all the acts of life, guiding and ruling the heart of man, and transforming it into that beau idéal which we admire in Catholics who are really devoted to the observances and practices of their religion; if this is the morality which you mean, it is necessary, undoubtedly, that, placed under the inspection of religious authority, it should be directed and guided by a minister of the sanctuary, by a faithful communication of the secrets of our hearts and the numberless temptations which continually assail our weak nature. This is the doctrine of the Catholic Church; and I will add, that it is pointed out by experience and taught by philosophy. I do not mean to say, that Catholics alone are capable of performing virtuous actions; this would be to contradict the experience of every day. I only wish to prove the efficacy of a Catholic institution which is despised by Protestants. I speak of the great influence which this institution has in infusing into our hearts, and preserving in them, a morality which is cordial, constant, and applicable to all the acts of our souls.

No doubt, there is in man a monstrous mixture of good and evil; I know that it is not given to him to attain in this life to that ineffable degree of perfection which consists in a perfect conformity with Divine truth and holiness-a perfection which he will not be able even to conceive until the moment when, stripped of his mortal body, he will be plunged into the pure ocean of light and love. But we cannot be permitted to doubt that man, in this earthly abode, in the land of misery and darkness, can, nevertheless,

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attain to the universal, delicate, and profound state of morality which I have just described; and, however much the present corruption of the world may be a too legitimate subject of affliction, it must be allowed that we still find, in our own days, a considerable number of honourable exceptions in the multitude of persons who conform to the strict rule of Gospel morality in their conduct, their wishes, and even in their thoughts and inmost affections. To attain to this degree of morality (and observe, I do not say of evangelical perfection, but of mere morality), it is necessary that the religious principle should be visibly present to the eyes of the soul, that it should act continually upon her, urging on or restraining her in an infinite variety of circumstances which, in the course of life, occur to lead out of the path of duty. The life of man is, as it were, a chain composed of an infinite variety of acts, which cannot be constantly in accordance with reason and the eternal law, unless it remains constantly in the hands of a fixed and universal regulator. And let it not be said that such a state of morality is a beau idéal, the existence of which would bring such confusion into the acts of the soul, and complication of the whole life, as in the end to make it insupportable. No, this is not a beau idéal; it is a reality which is frequently seen by our eyes, not only in the cloister and the sanctuary, but amid the confusion and distractions of the world. That which establishes a fixed rule cannot bring confusion into the acts of the soul, or complicate the affairs of life. Quite the contrary; instead of confusing, it serves to distinguish and illuminate; instead of complicating, it puts in order and simplifies. Establish this rule, and you will have unity; and with unity general order.

Catholicism is always distinguished by its extreme vigilance with respect to morality, by its care in regulating all the acts of life, and even the most secret movements of the heart. Superficial observers have declaimed against the prolixity of moralists—against the minute and detailed study which they make of human actions considered under a moral aspect; they should have observed, that if Catholicism is the religion in the bosom of which had appeared so great a number of moralists, and when all human actions

have been examined in the greatest detail, it is because this religion has for its object to moralise for the whole man, as it were, in all his relations with God, with his neighbour, and with himself. It is clear that such an enterprise requires a more profound and attentive examination than would be necessary if it had only to give to man an imperfect morality, stopping at the surface of actions, and not penetrating to the bottom of the heart. With respect to Catholic moralists, and without attempting to excuse the excess into which some among them have fallen, either by too great subtilty, or by a spirit of party and dispute (excesses which cannot be imputed to the Catholic Church, since she has testified her displeasure when she has not expressly condemned them), it must be observed, that this abundance, this superfluity, if you will, of moral studies, has contributed more than people think to direct minds to the intimate study of man, by furnishing a multitude of facts and observations to those who have subsequently wished to devote themselves to this important science. Now, can there be a more worthy or more useful object for our labours? In another part of this work, I propose to develope the relations of Catholicism with the progress of science and literature; I shall not, therefore, enter more fully on the matter now. Still I may be allowed briefly to observe, that the development and education of the human mind have been principally theological; and that on this point, as well as on many others, philosophers are more indebted to theologians than they seem to imagine.

Let us return to the comparison of the Protestant and Catholic influence on the formation and preservation of a sound public conscience. We have shewed that Catholicism, having constantly maintained the principle of authority which Protestantism rejects, has given to moral ideas a force and influence which Protestantism could not. Protestantism, indeed, by its nature and fundamental principles, has never given to these ideas any other support than they might have derived from a school of philosophy. But you will perhaps ask me, do you not acknowledge the force of these ideas; a force peculiar to them, and inherent in their nature, and which frequently changes the face of the world, by deciding its doc

trines? Do you not know that they always, in the end, force a passage, in spite of every obstacle, and of all resistance? Have you forgotten the teaching of all history; and do you pretend to deprive human thought of that vital, creative force, which renders man superior to all that surrounds him? Such is the common panegyric on the strength of ideas; thus we see them transformed every moment into all-powerful beings, whose magical wand is capable of changing every thing at their pleasure.

However this may be, I am full of respect for human thought, and allow that there is much truth in what is called the force of an idea; yet I must beg leave to offer a few observations to these enthusiasts, not directly to combat their opinion, but to make some necessary modifications. In the first place, ideas, in the point of view in which we are now considering them, must be divided into two orders; some flattering our passions, the others checking them. It cannot be denied that the former have an immense expansive force. They have a notion of their own; they act in all places; they exert a rapid, violent power; one would say that they overflowed with life and activity. The latter have great difficulty in making their way; they advance slowly, they cannot pursue their career without an institution to secure their stability. And why? Because they are not the ideas themselves which act in the former case, but the passions which accompany them, and assume their names; thus masking what is repulsive in them at first sight. In the latter case, on the contrary, it is the truth that speaks. Now, in this land of misfortune, the truth is but little attended to; for it leads to good; and the heart of man, as the Scripture says, is inclined to evil from his youth. Those who vaunt so much the native force of ideas, should point out to us, in ancient or modern history, one idea which, without going out of its own circle, that of the order purely philosophical, is entitled to the glory of having materially contributed to the amelioration of individuals and society.

It is commonly said that the force of ideas is immense; that once shewn among men, they will fructify sooner or later; that once deposited in the bosom of humanity, they will remain there as a precious legacy, and

contribute wonderfully to the improvement of the world, to the perfection towards which the human race advances. No doubt these assertions contain some truth; as man is an intelligent being, all that immediately affects his mind must certainly influence his destiny. Thus no great change is worked in society without being first realised in the order of ideas; all that is established contrary to our ideas, or without them, must be weak and passing. But it is by no means to be supposed that every useful idea contains in itself a conservative force capable of dispensing with all institutions; that is to say, with support and defence, even during times of social disorder; between these two propositions there is a gulf which cannot be closed without contradicting all history. Now humanity, considered by itself, and given up to its own strength, as it appears to philosophers, is not so safe a depositary as people wish to suppose. Unhappily we have melancholy proofs of this truth; we see too clearly that the human race, far from being a faithful trustee, has but too much imitated the conduct of a foolish spendthrift. In the cradle of the human race, we find great ideas on the unity of God, on man, on relations of man with God and their fellow-men. These ideas were certainly true, salutary, and fruitful: and yet, what did man do with them? Did he not lose them by modifying, by mutilating, and by distorting them in the most deplorable way? Where were they when Jesus Christ came into the world? What had humanity done with them? One nation alone preserved them; but in what way? Fix your attention on the chosen people, the Jews, and you will see that there was a continual struggle between truth and error; you will see that, by an inconceivable blindness, they incessantly inclined to idolatry; they had a constant tendency to substitute the abominations of the Gentiles for the sublime law of Mount Sinai. And do you know how the truth was preserved among this people? Observe it well; it was supported by the strongest institutions that can be imagined; it was armed with all the means of defence with which an inspired legislator could surround it. It will be said that they were a hard-hearted nation, in the language of the Scriptures; unhappily, since the fall of our

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