CHAPTER XXXII.
THE IMPROVEMENT OF MANNERS BY THE ACTION OF THE CHURCH
Modern society ought, it would seem, to be distinguished for severity and cruelty, since it was formed from that of the Romans and barbarians, from both of whom it should have inherited these qualities. Who is not aware of the fierce manners of the northern barbarians? The historians of that time have left us statements that make us shudder when we read them. It was believed that the end of the world was at hand; and, indeed, it was excusable to consider the last catastrophe as near, when so many other melancholy ones had already been heaped upon humanity. The imagination cannot figure to itself what would have happened to the world at this crisis, if Christianity had not existed. Even supposing that society would have been organized anew under one form or another, it is certain that private and public relations would have remained in a state of lamentable disorder, and that legislation would have been unjust and inhuman. Thus the influence of the Church on civil legislation was an inestimable benefit; thus even the power of the clergy in temporal things was one of the greatest safeguards of the highest interests of society.
Attacks are often made upon this temporal power of the clergy and this influence of the Church in worldly affairs. But, in the first place, it should be remembered, that this power and influence were brought about by the very nature of things; that is to say, they were natural, and, consequently, to assail them is to declaim in vain against the force of events, of which no man could hinder the realization. This power and influence, besides, were legitimate; for when society is in danger, nothing can be more legitimate than that that which can save it should save it. Now, at the time we speak of, the Church alone could save society. The Church, which is not an abstract being, but a real and substantial society, acted upon civil society by real and substantial means. If the purely material interests of society were in question, the minister of the Church ought, in some way or other, to take part in the direction of those interests. These reflections are so natural and simple, that their truth must be seen by good sense. All those who know any thing of history are now generally agreed on this point; and if we are not aware how much it generally costs the human mind to enter upon the path of truth, and, above all, how much bad faith there has been in the examination of these questions, we shall have a difficulty in understanding that so much time should have been required to bring the world to agree on a thing which is apparent to those who read history. But let us return to our subject. This extraordinary mixture of the cruelty of a cultivated but corrupted people with the atrocious ferocity of a barbarous one, proud of its triumphs, and intoxicated with blood during long wars, placed in European society a germ of severity and cruelty which fermented there for ages, and the remains of which we find at a late period. The precept of Christian charity was in men's heads, but Roman cruelty and barbarian ferocity still prevailed in their hearts; ideas were pure and beneficent, since they proceeded from a religion of love, but they encountered a terrible resistance in the habits, manners, institutions, and laws, for all these were more or less disfigured by the two mixed principles which I have just pointed out. If we reflect upon the constant and obstinate struggle between the Catholic Church and the elements which contended with her, we shall clearly see that Christian ideas could never have prevailed in legislation and manners, if Christianity had been a religious idea abandoned to human caprice, as Protestants imagine; it was necessary for it to be realized in a powerful institution, in a strongly constituted society, such as we find in the Catholic Church. In order to give an idea of the efforts made by the Church, I will point out some of the regulations which she made for the purpose of improving manners. Private animosities were very violent at the time of which we speak; and right was decided by force, and the world was threatened with becoming the patrimony of the strongest. Public law did not exist, or was hurried away and confounded by outrages which its feeble hand could never prevent or repress; it was altogether powerless in rendering manners pacific, and in subjecting men to reason and justice. Then we see that the Church, besides the instruction and the general admonitions inseparable from her sacred mission, adopted at that time certain measures calculated to restrain the torrent of violence which ravaged and destroyed every thing. The Council of Arles, celebrated in the middle of the fifth century, between 443 and 452, ordains, in its 50th canon, that the Church should be interdicted to those who have public animosities, until they were reconciled. The Council of Angers, celebrated in 453, proscribes, by its 3d canon, acts of violence and mutilation. The Council of Agde, in Languedoc, celebrated in 506, ordains, in its 31st canon, that enemies who would not be reconciled should be admonished by the priests, and excommunicated if they did not follow their apostolical counsels.
The Franks at that time had the custom of going armed, and they always entered the churches with their arms. It will be understood that such a custom must have produced great evils; the house of prayer was often converted into an arena of blood and vengeance. In the middle of the seventh century, the Council of Chalons-sur-Saone, in its 17th canon, pronounces excommunication against all laymen who excite tumults, or draw their swords to strike any one in the churches or in their precincts. Thus, we see the prudence and foresight which dictated the 29th canon of the third Council of Orleans, celebrated in 538, which forbids any one to be present at mass or vespers, armed. It is curious to observe the uniformity of design and plan pursued by the Church. In countries the most distant from each other, and at times when communication could not be frequent, we find regulations analogous to those which we have pointed out. The Council of Lerida, held in 546, ordains, by its 7th canon, that he who shall have sworn not to be reconciled with his enemy, shall be deprived of the participation of the body and blood of Jesus Christ until he has done penance for his oath and been reconciled.
Centuries passed away, acts of violence continued, the precept of fraternal charity, which obliges us to love even our enemies, always met with open resistance in the harsh character and fierce passions of the descendants of the barbarians; but the Church did not cease to preach the divine command; she continually inculcated and labored to render it efficacious by means of spiritual penalties. More than four hundred years had elapsed since the celebration of the Council of Arles, where we have seen the church forbidden to those who were openly at variance; we then see the Council of Worms, held in 868, pronouncing, in its 41st canon, excommunication against enemies who refused to be reconciled. It will suffice to have some idea of the disorders of that time, to know whether it was possible to appease the violence of animosities during this long period. One would fancy that the Church would have been wearied of inculcating a precept which the unhappy state of circumstances so often rendered fruitless; but such was not the case: she continued to speak as she had spoken for ages; she never lost her confidence that her words would produce fruit in the present, and would be productive in the future. Such is her system; one would think that she heard these words constantly repeated, "Cry out, cry out without ceasing; raise thy voice like a trumpet." It is then that she triumphs over all resistance; when she cannot exert her power over the will of a nation, she makes her voice heard with indefatigable diligence in the sanctuary. There she assembles seven thousand who have not bent the knee to Baal; and while she endeavors to confirm them in faith and good works, she protests, in the name of God, against those who resist the Holy Spirit. Let us imagine that, amid the dissipation and distraction of a populous city, we enter a sacred place, where seriousness and moderation reign, in the bosom of silence and religious retirement; there a minister of the sanctuary, surrounded by a chosen number of the faithful, utters from time to time some serious and solemn words. This is the personification of the Church in times disastrous from weakened faith and corrupted morals. One of the rules of conduct of the Catholic Church has been, not to bend before the powerful. When she has proclaimed a law, she has proclaimed it for all, without distinction of rank. In the time of the power of those petty tyrants, who, under different names, persecuted the people, this conduct of the Church contributed in an extraordinary degree to render the ecclesiastical laws popular; for nothing was more likely to make a law tolerable to the people than to show that it applied to nobles, and even to kings. In the times of which we speak, hatred and violence among plebeians were severely proscribed; but the same law extended to great men and to royalty. A short time after the establishment of Christianity in England, we find a very curious example in that country, applicable to this question. It is nothing less than excommunication pronounced against three kings in the same year, and in the same town; all these were compelled by the Councils to do penance for the crimes which they had committed. The town of Llandaff, in Wales, within the metropolitan see of Canterbury, witnessed the celebration of three Councils, in the year 560. In the first, Monric, king of Glamorgan, was excommunicated for having put to death King Cinétha, although he had sworn the peace on the sacred relics; in the second, King Morcant was excommunicated for having put to death Friac, his uncle, in whose favor he had equally sworn the peace; in the third, King Guidnert was excommunicated for having put to death his brother, the competitor for the throne.
Thus, these barbarian chiefs, just changed into kings, and prone to slaughter, are compelled to acknowledge the authority of a superior power, and to expiate by penance the murder of their relatives and the violation of sacred engagements; it is useless to point out how much this must have contributed to the improvement of manners. "It was easy," the enemies of the Church will say – those who endeavor to lower the merit of her acts – "it was easy to preach gentleness of manners, to impose the observance of divine precepts on chiefs whose power was limited, and who had only the name of kings; it was easy to manage those petty barbarian chiefs, who, rendered fanatical by a religion of which they understood nothing, humbly bowed before the first priest who ventured to menace them on the part of God. But of what importance was that? What influence could it have on the course of great events? The history of European civilization presents a vast theatre, where events must be studied on a large scale, and where none but the most important scenes exercised any influence on the spirit of nations." Let us observe, that these petty barbarian kings were the origin of the principal families which now occupy the most important thrones of the world. To place the germ of real civilization in their hearts, was to graft the tree which was one day to overshadow the earth. But without staying to show the futility of such reasoning, and as our opponents desire great scenes capable of influencing European manners on a large scale, let us open the history of the Church in the first ages, and we shall soon find a page which redounds to the eternal honor of Catholicity. The whole of the known world was subject to an emperor, whose name, then universally venerated, will continue to be respected by the remotest posterity. In an important city, the rebellious inhabitants put to death the commander of the garrison; the emperor, transported with anger, orders them to be exterminated. Returning to himself, he revokes the order; but it was too late, the order was executed, and thousands of victims had been involved in the horrible carnage; at the news of this dreadful catastrophe, a bishop quits the court of the emperor, leaves the city, and writes to him in this grave language: "I dare not offer the sacrifice if you attempt to be present at it; the blood of one innocent person would suffice to forbid me; how much more the massacre of a large number." The emperor, confident in his power, takes no notice of this letter, and goes towards the church. When he arrives at the door, he finds himself in the presence of a venerable man, who, with a grave and stern countenance, stops him and forbids him to enter the church. "Thou hast imitated David in crime," he says, "imitate him also in penance." The emperor yields, humbles himself, and submits to the regulations of the bishop, and religion and humanity gain an immortal triumph. This unhappy city was Thessalonica; the emperor was Theodosius; the prelate was St. Ambrose, Archbishop of Milan.
We find face to face, in this sublime fact, force and justice personified. Justice triumphs over force; but why? Because he who represents justice, represents it in the name of Heaven; because the sacred vestments and the imposing attitude of the man who stops the emperor reminds Theodosius of the divine mission of the holy bishop, and of the office which he holds in the sacred ministry. Put a philosopher in the place of the bishop, and tell him to arrest the proud culprit by an injunction of doing penance, and you will see whether human wisdom can do as much as the Catholic priest speaking in the name of God. Put, if you please, a bishop of the Church, who has acknowledged spiritual supremacy in the civil power, and you will see whether in his mouth words have the same effect in obtaining so glorious a triumph. The spirit of the Church was always the same; her arms were always directed towards the same end; her language was always equally strict, equally strong, whether she spoke to the Roman plebeian or a barbarian, whether she addressed her admonitions to a patrician of the empire or to a noble German. She was no more afraid of the purple of the Cæsars than of the frowns of the long-haired kings. The power which she possessed during the middle ages was not exclusively owing to her having preserved alone the light of science and the principles of government; but it was also owing to the invincible firmness, which no resistance and no attack could destroy. What would Protestantism have effected in such difficult and dangerous circumstances? Without authority, without a centre of action, without security for her own faith, without confidence in her resources, what means would she have had to assist her in restraining the torrent of violence – that impetuous torrent, which, after having inundated the world, was about to destroy the remains of ancient civilization, and opposed to all attempts at social reorganization an obstacle almost insurmountable? Catholicity, with its ardent faith, its powerful authority, its undivided unity, its well-compacted hierarchy, was able to undertake the lofty enterprise of improving manners; and it brought to the undertaking that constancy which is inspired by conscious strength, and that boldness which animates a mind secure of triumph.
We must not, however, imagine that the conduct of the Church, in her mission of improving manners, always brought her into collision with force. We also see her employ indirect means, limit her demands to what she could obtain, and ask for as little, in order to obtain as much as possible. In a capitulary of Charlemagne, given at Aix-la-Chapelle in 813, and consisting of twenty-six articles, which are nothing more than a sort of confirmation and résumé of the five Councils held a little before in France, we find in an appendix of two articles the method of proceeding judicially against those who, under pretext of the right called faida, excited tumults on Sundays, holidays, and also working days. We have already seen above that they had recourse to the holy relics, to give greater authority to the oaths of peace and friendship taken by kings towards each other – an august act, in which Heaven was invoked to prevent the effusion of blood, and to establish peace on earth. We see in the capitulary which we have just quoted, that the respect for Sundays and holidays was made use of to bring about the abolition of the barbarous custom, which authorized the relations of a murdered man to avenge his death in the blood of the murderer. The deplorable state of European society at that time is vividly painted by the means which the ecclesiastical power was compelled to use, to diminish in some degree the disasters occasioned by the prevailing violence. Not to attack, not to maltreat any one, not to have recourse to force to obtain reparation or to gratify a desire of vengeance, appears to us to be so just, so reasonable, and so natural, that we can hardly imagine another way of acting. If, now, a law were promulgated, to forbid one to attack one's enemy on such or such a day, at such or such an hour, it would appear to us the height of folly and extravagance. But it was not so at that time; such prohibitions were made continually, not in obscure hamlets, but in great towns, in very numerous assemblies, when bishops were present in hundreds, and where counts, dukes, princes, and kings were gathered together. This law, by which authority was glad to make the principles of justice respected, at least on certain days, – principally on the great solemnities, – this law, which now would appear to us so strange, was, in a certain way, and for a long period, one of the chief points of public and private law in Europe. It will be understood that I allude to the truce of God, a privilege of peace very necessary at that time, as we see it very often renewed in various countries. Of all that I might say on this point, I shall content myself with selecting a few of the decisions of Councils at the time. The Council of Tubuza, in the diocese of Elne, in Roussillon, held by Guifred, Archbishop of Narbonne, in 1041, established the truce of God, from the evening of Friday until Monday morning. Nobody during that time could take any thing by force, or revenge any injury, or require any pledge in surety. Those who violated this decree were liable to the same legal composition as if they had merited death; in default of which, they were excommunicated and banished from the country.
The practice of this ecclesiastical regulation was considered so advantageous, that many other Councils were held in France during the same year, on the same subject. Moreover, care was taken frequently to repeat the obligation, as we see by the Council of Saint Gilles, in Languedoc, held in 1042, and by that of Narbonne, held in 1045. In spite of these, repeated efforts did not obtain all the desired fruit; this is indicated by the changes which we observe in the regulations of the law. Thus we see that, in the year 1047, the truce of God was fixed for a less time than in 1041; the Council of Telugis, in the same diocese of Elne, held in 1047, only ordains that it is forbidden to any one in all the comté of Roussillon to attack his enemy between the hours of none on Sunday and prime on Monday; the law was then much less extensive than in 1041, when, as we have seen, the truce of God was extended from Friday evening till Monday morning. We find in the same Council a remarkable regulation, the object of which was to preserve from all attack men who were going to church or returning from it, or who were accompanying women. In 1054, the truce of God had gained ground; we see it extended, not only from Friday evening till Monday morning after sunrise, but over considerable periods of the year. Thus we see that the Council of Narbonne, held by Archbishop Guifred, in 1045, after having included in the truce of God the time from Friday evening till Monday morning, declares it obligatory during the following periods: from the first Sunday of Advent till the octave of the Epiphany; from Quinquagesima Sunday till the octave of Easter; from the Sunday preceding the Ascension till the octave of Pentecost; the festival days of Our Lady, of St. Peter, of St. Laurence, of St. Michael, of All Saints, of St. Martin, of St. Just and Pasteur, titularies of the Church of Narbonne, and all fasting days, under pain of anathema and perpetual banishment. The same Council gives some other regulations, so beautiful that we cannot pass them over in silence, when we are engaged in showing the influence of the Catholic Church in improving manners. The 9th canon forbids the cutting of olive-trees; a reason for it is given, which, in the eyes of jurists, will not appear sufficiently general or adequate, but which, in the eyes of the philosophy of history, is a beautiful symbol of the beneficial influence exercised over society by religion. This is the reason given by the Council: "It is," it says, "that the olive-trees may furnish matter for the holy chrism, and feed the lamps that burn in the churches." Such a reason was sure to produce more effect than any that could be drawn from Ulpian and Justinian. It is ordained in the 10th canon that shepherds and their flocks shall enjoy at all times the security of the truce; the same favor is extended by the 11th canon to all houses within thirty paces of the churches. The 18th canon forbids those who have a suit, to take any active steps, to commit the least violence, until the cause has been judged in presence of the bishop and lord of the place. The other canons forbid the robbing of merchants and pilgrims, and the commission of wrong against any one, under pain of being separated from the Church, if the crime be committed during the time of the truce.
In proportion as we advance in the 11th century, we see the salutary practice of the truce of God more and more inculcated; the Popes interpose their authority in its favor. At the Council of Gironne, held by Cardinal Hugues-le-Blanc, in 1068, the truce of God is confirmed by the authority of Alexander II., under pain of excommunication; the Council held in 1080, at Lillebonne, in Normandy, gives us reason to suppose that the truce was then generally established, since it ordains, by its first canon to bishops and lords, to take care that it was observed, and to inflict on offenders against it censures and other penalties. In the year 1093, the Council of Troja, in Apulia, held by Urban II., continues the truce of God. To judge of the extent of this canonical regulation, we should know that this Council consisted of sixty-five bishops. The number was much greater at the Council of Clermont, in Auvergne, held by the same Urban II., in 1095; it reckoned no less than thirteen archbishops, two hundred and twenty bishops, and a great number of abbots. The first canon of this Council confirms the truce for Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday; it wishes, moreover, that it should be observed on all the days of the week, with respect to monks, clergy, and women. The canons 29 and 30 ordain, that if a man pursued by an enemy take refuge near a cross, he should be in safety, as if he had found asylum in a church. The sublime sign of redemption, after having given salvation to the world, by drinking on Calvary the blood of the Son of God, had already proved a refuge, during the sack of Rome, to those who fled from the fury of the barbarians; centuries later, we find it erected on the roads, to save the unfortunate, who, by embracing it, escaped their enemies, who were thus deterred from vengeance.
The Council of Rouen, held in 1096, extending still further the benefit of the truce, ordains the observance of it from the Sunday before Ash Wednesday till the second feast after the octave of Pentecost, from sunset on Wednesday preceding Advent to the octave of Epiphany, and every week from Friday after sunset till the Monday following at sunrise; in fine, on all the feasts and vigils of the Virgin and the Apostles. The 2d canon of the same Council secures perpetual peace to all clergy, monks, and nuns, to women, to pilgrims, to merchants and their servants, to oxen and horses of labor, to carmen and laborers; it gives the same privileges to all lands that belong to sacred institutions; all such persons, animals, and lands are protected from the attacks of pillage and all kinds of violence. At this time the law felt itself stronger; it could now call for obedience in a firmer tone; we see, indeed, that the third canon of the same Council enjoins upon all who have reached the age of twelve, to engage by oath to observe the truce; in the fourth canon, all who refuse to take this oath are excommunicated. Some years after, in 1115, the truce, instead of comprising certain stated parts of the year, embraces whole years; the Council of Troja in Apulia, held in that year by Pope Pascal, establishes the truce for three years.
The Popes pursued with ardor the work thus commenced; they sanctioned it with their authority, and extended the observance of the truce by means of their influence, then universal and powerful over all Europe. Although the truce was apparently only a testimony of respect paid to religion by the violent passions, which, in her favor, consented to suspend their hostilities, it was, in reality, a triumph of right over might, and one of the most admirable devices ever used to improve the manners of a barbarous people. The man who, during four days of the week, and during long periods of the year, was compelled to suspend the exercise of force, was necessarily led to more gentle manners; he must, in the end, entirely renounce it. The difficulty is not, to convince a man that he does ill, but to make him lose the habit of doing so; and it is well known that habits are engendered by the repetition of acts, and are lost when they cease for a time. Nothing is more pleasing to the Christian soul than to see the Popes laboring to maintain and extend this truce. They renew the command of it with a power the more efficacious and universal according to the number of bishops who assist at the Councils where their supreme authority presides. At the Council of Rheims, opened by Pope Calixtus II. in person, in 1119, a decree confirming the truce is promulgated. Thirteen archbishops, more than two hundred bishops, and a great number of abbots and ecclesiastics, distinguished for their rank, assisted at this Council. The same command is renewed at the General Council of Lateran, held under the care of the same Pontiff, Calixtus II., in 1123. There were assembled more than three hundred archbishops and bishops, and more than six hundred abbots. In 1130, the Council of Clermont, in Auvergne, held by Innocent II., insists on the same point, and repeats the regulations concerning the observance of the truce. The Council of Avignon, held in 1209, by Hugh, Bishop of Riez, and Milon, notary of Pope Innocent III., both legates of the Holy See, confirms the laws before enacted on the subject of the peace and the truce, and condemns the rebellious who dare to infringe them. In the year 1215, at the Council of Montpellier, assembled by Robert de Courçon, and presided over by Cardinal Benavent, in his office as legate of the province, all the regulations established at different times for the public safety, and more recently to secure peace between lord and lord, and town and town, are renewed and confirmed.
Those who have regarded the intervention of the ecclesiastical power in civil affairs as a usurpation of the rights of public authority, should tell us how it is possible to usurp that which does not exist, and how a power which is unable to exercise the authority which ought to belong to it, can reasonably complain when that authority passes into the hands of those who have force and skill to make use of it. At that time, the public authority did not at all complain of these pretended usurpations. Governments and nations looked upon them as just and legitimate; for, as we have said above, they were natural and necessary, they were brought about by the force of events, they were the result of the situation of affairs. Certainly, it would now seem extraordinary to see bishops provide for the security of roads, publish edicts against incendiaries, against robbers, against those who cut down olive-trees and commit other injuries of the kind; but, at the time we are speaking of, this proceeding was very natural, and more, it was necessary. Thanks to the care of the Church, to that incessant solicitude which has been since so inconsiderately blamed, the foundations of the social edifice, in which we now dwell in peace, were laid; an organization was realized which would have been impossible without the influence of religion and the action of ecclesiastical authority. If you wish to know whether any fact of which you have to judge is the result of the nature of things, or the fruit of well contrived combinations, observe the manner in which it appears, the places where it takes its rise, the times which witness its appearance; and if you shall find it reproduced at once in places far distant from each other, by men who can have had no concert, be assured that it is not the result of human contrivance, but of the force of events. These conditions are found united in a palpable manner in the action of the ecclesiastical power on public affairs. Open the Councils of those times, and everywhere the same facts meet your eyes; thus, to quote a few examples, the Council of Palentia, in the kingdom of Leon, held in 1129, decrees, in its 12th canon, exile or seclusion in a monastery, against those who attack the clergy, monks, merchants, pilgrims, and women. Let us pass into France; the Council of Clermont, in Auvergne, held in 1130, pronounces, in its 13th canon, excommunication against incendiaries. In 1157, the Council of Rheims, in the 3d canon, orders to be respected, during war, the persons of the clergy, of monks, women, travellers, laborers, and vine-dressers. Let us pass into Italy; the 11th Council of Lateran, a General Council, convoked in 1179, forbids, in its 22d canon, to maltreat or disturb monks, clergy, pilgrims, merchants, peasants, either travelling or engaged in the labors of agriculture, and animals laboring in the fields. In its 24th canon, the same Council excommunicates those who make slaves of, or rob, Christians on voyages of commerce, or for other lawful purposes; those who plunder the shipwrecked are subjected to the same penalty, unless they make restitution. Let us go to England; there the Council of Oxford, held in 1222, by Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, forbids, by its 20th canon, any one to have robbers in their service. In Sweden, the Council of Arbogen, held in 1396, by Henry, Archbishop of Upsala, directs, by its 5th canon, that church-burial shall be refused to pirates, ravishers, incendiaries, highway robbers, oppressors of the poor, and other malefactors; so that in all parts, and at the same periods, we see the same fact appear, viz. the Church struggling against injustice and violence, and endeavoring to substitute in their stead the empire of law and justice.