In what spirit must they read the history of the Church, who do not feel the beauty of the picture presented to us by the multitude of regulations, scarcely indicated here, all tending to protect the weak against the strong? The clergy and monks, on account of the weakness consequent on their peaceful profession, find in the canons which we have just quoted peculiar protection; but the same is granted to females, to pilgrims, to merchants, to villagers, travelling, or engaged in rural labors, and to beasts of labor – in a word, to all that is weak; and observe, that this protection is not a mere passing effort of generosity, but a system practised in widely different places, continued for centuries, developed and applied by all the means that charity suggests – a system inexhaustible in resources and contrivances, both in producing good and in preventing evil. And surely it cannot be said that the Church was influenced in this by views of self-interest: what interested motive could she have in preventing the spoliation of an obscure traveller, the violence inflicted on a poor laborer, or the insult offered to a defenceless woman? The spirit which then animated her, whatever might be the abuses which were introduced during unhappy times, was, as it now is, the spirit of God himself – that spirit which continually communicates to her so marked an inclination towards goodness and justice, and always urges her to realize, by any possible means, her sublime desires. I leave the reader to judge whether or not the constant efforts of the Church to banish the dominion of force from the bosom of society were likely to improve manners. I now speak only of times of peace; for I need not stay to prove that during the time of war that influence must have had the happiest results. The væ victis of the ancients has disappeared from modern history, thanks to the divine religion which knew how to inspire man with new ideas and new feelings – thanks to the Catholic Church, whose zeal for the redemption of captives has softened the fierce maxims of the Romans, who, as we have seen, had considered it necessary to take from brave men the hope of being redeemed from servitude, when by the chances of war they had fallen into the hands of their enemies. The reader may revert to the seventh chapter of this work, and the third paragraph of the fifteenth note, where there are, in the original text, numerous documents that may be quoted in support of our assertion; he will thus be better able to judge of the gratitude which is due to the charity, disinterestedness, and indefatigable zeal of the Catholic Church in favor of the unfortunate, who groaned in bondage in the power of their enemies. We must also consider that, slavery once abolished, the system was necessarily improved; for if those who surrendered could no longer be put to death, or be kept in slavery, the only thing to be done was, to retain them for the time necessary to prevent their doing mischief, or until they were ransomed. Now, this is the modern system, which consists in retaining prisoners till the end of the war, or until they are exchanged.
Although the amelioration of manners, as I have said above, consists, properly speaking, in the exclusion of force, we must yet avoid considering this exclusion of force in the abstract, and believing that such an order of things was possible, by virtue of the mere development of mind. All is connected in this world; it is not enough, to constitute the real improvement of manners, that they avoid violence as much as possible; they must also be benevolent. As long as they are not so, they will be less gentle than enervated; the use of force will not be banished from society, but it will remain artificially disguised. It will be understood, then, that we are obliged here to take a survey of the principle whence European civilization has drawn the spirit of benevolence which distinguishes it; we shall thus succeed in showing that the gentleness of our present manners is principally owing to Catholicity. There is, besides, in the examination of the principle of benevolence, so much importance of its own, independently of its connection with the question which now occupies us, that we cannot avoid devoting some pages to it, in the course of an analytical review of the elements of our civilization.22
CHAPTER XXXIII.
ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF PUBLIC BENEFICENCE IN EUROPE
Never will manners be perfectly gentle without the existence of public beneficence; so that gentleness of manners and beneficence, although distinct, are sisters. Public beneficence, properly so called, was unknown among the ancients. Individuals might be beneficent there, but society was without compassion. Thus, the foundation of public establishments of beneficence formed no part of the system of administration among ancient nations. What, then, did they do with the unfortunate? We will answer with the author of the Génie de Christianisme, that they had no resources but infanticide and slavery. Christianity having become predominant everywhere, we see the authority of the Church employed in destroying the remains of cruel customs. In the year 442, the Council of Vaison, establishing a regulation for the legitimate possession of foundlings, decrees ecclesiastical censure against those who disturb by importunate reproaches charitable persons who have received children. The Council adopts this measure with the view of protecting a beneficent custom; for, adds the canon, these children were exposed to be eaten by dogs. There were still found fathers unnatural enough to kill their children. The Council of Lerida, held in 546, imposes seven years of penance on those who commit such a crime; and that of Toledo, held in 589, forbids, in the 17th canon, parents to commit this crime. Still, the difficulty did not consist in correcting these excesses; crimes thus opposed to the first notions of morality – so much in contradiction to the feelings of nature – tended to their own extirpation. The difficulty consisted in finding proper means to organize a vast system of beneficence, to provide constant succor, not only for children, but for old men, for the sick, for the poor incapable of living by their own labor; in a word, for all the necessitous. Familiarized as we are with such a system universally established, we see nothing in it but what is simple and natural; we can hardly find any merit in it. But let us suppose for a moment that such institutions do not exist; let us transport ourselves to the times when there was not even the first idea of them, what continued efforts would there not be required to establish and organize them!
It is clear that by the mere extension of Christian charity in the world the various wants of humanity must have been more frequently succored, and with more efficacy, than they were before; and this even if we suppose that the exercise of charity was limited to purely individual means. Assuredly, there would always have been a great number of the faithful who would have remembered the doctrines and example of Jesus Christ. Our Saviour did not content Himself with teaching us by his discourses the obligation of loving our neighbor as ourselves, nor with a barren affection, but by giving food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, clothes to the naked; by visiting the sick and prisoners. He showed us in his own conduct a model of the practice of charity. He could have shown in a thousand ways the power which belonged to Him in heaven and on earth; his voice could have controlled all the elements, stopped the motions of the stars, and suspended all the laws of nature; but He delighted above all in displaying his beneficence; He only attested his divinity by miracles which healed or consoled the unfortunate. His whole life is summed up in the sublime simplicity of these two words of the sacred text: pertransiit benefaciendo; He went about doing good.
Whatever good might be expected from Christian charity when left to its own inspiration, and acting in a sphere purely individual, it was not desirable to leave it in this state. It was necessary to realize it in permanent institutions, and not to leave the consolation of the unfortunate to the mercy of man and passing circumstances; this is the reason why there was so much wisdom and foresight in the idea of founding establishments of beneficence. It was the Church that conceived and executed this idea. Therein she only applied to a particular case her general rule of conduct; which is, never to leave to the will of individuals what can be connected with an institution: and observe, that this is one of the causes of the strength inherent in all that belongs to Catholicity. As the principle of authority in matters of faith preserves to her unity and constancy therein, so the rule of intrusting every thing to institutions secures the solidity and duration of all her works. These two principles have an intimate connection; for if you examine them attentively, the one supposes that she distrusts the intellect of man, the other, that she distrusts his individual will and capacity. The one supposes that man is not sufficient of himself to attain to, and preserve the knowledge of, certain truths; the other, that he is so feeble and capricious, that it is unwise to leave to his weakness and inconstancy the care of doing good. Now, neither one nor the other is injurious to man; neither one nor the other lowers his proper dignity. The Church only tells him, that he is, in reality, subject to error, inclined to evil, inconstant in his designs, and very miserable in his resources. These are melancholy truths; but the experience of every day attests them, and the Christian religion explains them, by establishing, as a fundamental dogma, the fall of man in the person of our first parent. Protestantism, following principles diametrically opposite, applies the same spirit of individuality to the will as to the intelligence; it is even the natural enemy of institutions. Without going further than our present subject, we see that its first step, on its appearance, was to destroy what existed, without in any way replacing it. Will it be believed that Montesquieu went so far as to applaud this work of destruction? This is another proof of the fatal influence exerted over minds by the pestilential atmosphere of the last century: "Henri VIII.," says Montesquieu, "voulant réformer l'église d'Angleterre, détruisit les moines: nation paresseuse elle-même, et qui entretenait la paresse des autres, parceque, practiquant l'hospitalité, une infinité de gens oisifs, gentilhommes et bourgeois, passoient leur vie à courir de couvent en couvent. Il ôta encore les hôpitaux, où le bas peuple trouvait sa subsistence, comme les gentilhommes trouvaient la leur dans les monastères. Depuis ce changement, l'esprit de commerce et d'industrie s'établit en Angleterre." (De l'Esprit des Lois, liv. xxiii. chap. 19.) That Montesquieu should praise this conduct of Henry VIII., and the destruction of monasteries, for the miserable reason, that it was good to deprive the idle of the hospitality of the monks, is a notion which ought not to astonish us, as such vulgar ideas were in accordance with the taste of the philosophy which had then begun to prevail. It attempted to find profound economical and political reasons for all that was in opposition to the institutions of Catholicity; and this was not difficult, for a prejudiced mind always finds in books, as well as in facts, what it seeks. We might inquire of Montesquieu, however, what is become of the property of the monasteries? As these rich spoils were in great part given to the same nobles who found hospitality with the monks, we might observe to him, that it was a singular way of diminishing the idleness of people, to give them as their own the property which they had previously enjoyed as guests. It cannot be denied, that to take to the houses of the nobles the property which had supported the hospitality which the monks showed them, was certainly to save them the trouble of running from monastery to monastery. But what we cannot tolerate is, to hear vaunted as a political chef-d'œuvre, the suppression of the hospitals where the poor people found their subsistence. What! are these your lofty views, and is your philosophy so devoid of compassion, that you think the destruction of the asylums of misfortune proper means for encouraging industry and commerce? The worst of it is, that Montesquieu, seduced by the desire of offering new and piquant observations, goes so far as to deny the utility of hospitals, pretending that, in Rome, they make all live in comfort except those who labor. He does not wish to have them in rich nations or in poor ones. He supports this cruel paradox by a reason stated in the following words: "Quand la nation est pauvre," says he, "la pauvreté particulière dérive de la misère générale, et elle est, pour ainsi dire, la misère générale. Tous les hôpitaux du monde ne sauraient guérir cette pauvreté particulière; au contraire l'esprit de paresse qu'ils inspirent augmente la pauvreté générale, et par conséquent la particulière." Thus, hospitals are represented as dangerous to poor nations, and consequently condemned. Let us now listen to what is said of rich ones: "J'ai dit que les nations riches avaient besoin d'hôpitaux, parceque la fortune y était sujette a mille accidents; mais on sent que les recours passagers vaudraient bien mieux que les établissements perpétuels. Le mal est momentané; il faut donc des secours de même nature, et qui soient applicables à l'accident particulier." (De l'Esprit des Lois, liv. xxiii. chap. 19.) It is difficult to find any thing more empty or more false. Undoubtedly, if we were to judge, by these passages, of the Esprit des Lois, the merit of which has been so much exaggerated, we should be compelled to condemn it in terms more severe than those employed by M. de Bonald, when he called it "the most profound of superficial works." Happily for the poor, and for the good order of society, Europe in general has not adopted these maxims; and on this point, as on many others, prejudices against Catholicity have been laid aside, in order to continue, with more or less modification, the system which she taught. We find in England herself a considerable number of establishments of beneficence; and it is not believed in that country that it is necessary, in order to excite the activity of the poor, to expose them to the danger of dying of hunger. We should always remember that the system of public establishments for beneficence, now general in Europe, would not have existed without Catholicity; indeed, we may rest assured, that if the religious schism had taken place before the foundation and organization of this system, European society would not now have enjoyed these establishments which do it so much honor, and are so precious an element of good government and public tranquillity. It is one thing to found and maintain an establishment of this kind, when a great number of similar ones already exist, – when governments possess immense resources, and strength sufficient to protect all interests; but it is a very different thing to establish a multitude of them in all places, when there is no model to be copied, when it is necessary to improvise in a thousand ways the indispensable resources, – when public authority has no prestige or force to control the violent passions that struggle to gain every thing that they can feed on. Now, in modern times, since the existence of Protestantism, the first only of these things has been done; the second was accomplished centuries before by the Catholic Church; and let it be observed, that what has been done in Protestant countries in favor of public beneficence, has been done by administrative acts of the government, acts which were necessarily inspired by the view of the happy results already obtained from similar institutions. But Protestantism, by itself, considered as a separate Church, has done nothing, and it could do nothing; for in all places where it preserves any thing of hierarchical organization, it is the mere instrument of the civil power; consequently it cannot there act by its own inspirations. Such is the vice of its constitution. Its prejudice against the religious institutions, both of men and women, make it sterile in this respect. Thus, indeed, it is deprived of one of the most powerful elements possessed by Catholicity to accomplish the most arduous and laborious works of charity. For the great works of charity, it is necessary to be free from worldly attachments and self-love; and these qualities are found in an eminent degree in persons who are devoted to charity in religious institutions. There they commence with that freedom which is the root of all the rest – the absence of self-love. The Catholic Church has not been instigated to this by the civil power; she has considered it as one of her own peculiar duties to provide for the unfortunate. Her bishops have always been looked upon as the protectors and the natural inspectors of beneficent establishments. Therefore there was a law which placed hospitals under the charge of the bishops; and thence it comes that that class of charitable institutions has always occupied a distinguished place in canonical legislation. The Church, from remote times, has made laws concerning hospitals. Thus, we see the Council of Chalcedon place under the authority of the bishop the clergy residing in Ptochüs, – that is, as explained by Zonarus, in the establishments destined to support and provide for the poor: "Such," he says, "as those where orphans and the old and infirm are received and cared for." The Council makes use of this expression, according to the tradition of the holy Fathers; thereby indicating that regulations had been made of old by the Church concerning establishments of this kind. The learned also know what the ancient diaconies were, – places of charity, where poor widows, orphans, old men, and other unfortunate persons, were received.
When the irruption of the barbarians had introduced everywhere the reign of force, the possessions which hospitals already had, and those which they afterwards gained, were exposed to unbounded rapacity. The Church did all she could to protect them. It was forbidden to take them, under the severest penalties; those who made the attempt were punished as murderers of the poor. The Council of Orleans, held in 549, forbids, in its 13th canon, taking the property of hospitals; the 15th canon of the same Council confirms the foundation of a hospital at Lyons, a foundation due to the charity of King Childebert and Queen Ultrogotha. The Council takes measures to secure the safety and good management of the funds of that hospital; all violating these regulations are anathematized as guilty of homicide of the poor.
We find, with respect to the poor, in very ancient Councils, regulations of charity and police at the same time, quite similar to measures now adopted in certain countries. For example, parishes are enjoined to make a list of their poor, to maintain them, &c. The Council of Tours, held in 566 or 567, by its 5th canon orders every town to maintain its poor; and the priests in the country, as well as the faithful, to maintain their own, in order to prevent mendicants from wandering about the towns and provinces. With respect to lepers, the 21st canon of the Council of Orleans, before quoted, prescribes to bishops to take particular care of these unfortunate beings in all dioceses, and to furnish them with food and clothing out of the Church funds; the Council of Lyons, held in 583, in its 6th canon ordains that the lepers of every town and territory shall be supported at the expense of the Church under the care of the bishop. The Church had a register of the poor, intended to regulate the distribution which was made to them of a portion of the ecclesiastical property; it was expressly forbidden to demand any thing from the poor for being inscribed in this book of charity. The Council of Rheims, held in 874, in the second of its five articles forbids receiving any thing from the poor thus inscribed, and that under pain of deposition. Zeal for improving the condition of prisoners, a kind of charity which has been so much displayed in modern times, is extremely ancient in the Church. We must observe that in the sixth century there was already an inspector of prisons; the archdeacon or the provost of the church was obliged to visit prisoners on all Sundays; no class of criminals was excluded from the benefit of this solicitude. The archdeacon was bound to learn their wants, and to furnish them, by means of a person recommended by the bishop, with food and all they stood in need of. This was ordered by the 20th canon of the Council of Orleans, held in 549. It would be too long to enumerate even a small part of the ordinances which attest the zeal of the Church for the comfort and consolation of the unfortunate; besides, it would be beyond my purpose, for I have only undertaken to compare the spirit of Protestantism with that of Catholicity with respect to works of charity. Yet, and as the development of this question has naturally led me to state several historical facts, I shall allude to the 141st canon of the Council of Aix-la-Chapelle, enjoining upon prelates to found, according to the example of their predecessors, a hospital to receive all the poor that the revenues of the Church were able to support. Prebendaries were bound to give to the hospital the tenth of their fruits; one of them was appointed to receive the poor and strangers, and to watch over the administration of the hospital. Such was the rule of prebendaries. In the rule destined for the canonesses, the same Council ordains that a hospital shall be established close to the house, and that it shall itself contain a place reserved for poor women. Therefore, were there seen, many centuries later, in various places, hospitals near to prebendal churches. As we approach our own times, we everywhere see innumerable institutions founded for charity. Ought we not to admire the fruitfulness with which there arise, on all sides, as many resources as are necessary to succour all the unfortunate? We cannot calculate with precision what would have happened if Protestantism had not appeared, but at least there is a conjecture authorized by reasons of analogy. If the development of European civilization had been fully carried out under the principle of religious unity, if the so-called Reformation had not plunged Europe into continual revolutions and reactions, there would certainly have been produced in the bosom of the Catholic Church some general system of beneficence, which, organized on a grand scale and in conformity with the new progress of society, would have been able to prevent or effectually to remedy the sore of pauperism, that cancer of modern nations. What was not to be expected from all the intelligence and all the resources of Europe, working in concert to obtain this great result? Unhappily, the unity of faith was broken; authority, the proper centre, past, present, and future, was rejected. From that time Europe, which was destined to become a nation of brothers, was changed into a most fiercely-contested battle-field. Hatred, engendered by religious differences, prevented any united efforts for new arrangements; and the necessities which arose out of the bosom of the social and political organization, which was for Europe the fruit of so many centuries of labor, could not be provided for. Bitter disputes, rebellions, and wars were acclimatized among us.
Let us remember that the Protestant schism not only prevented the union of all the efforts of Europe to attain the end in question, but, moreover, it has been the reason why Catholicism has not been able to act in a regular manner even in those countries where it has preserved its complete empire, or a decided predominance. In these countries it has been compelled to hold itself in an attitude of defence; it has been obliged, by the attacks of its enemies, to employ a great part of its resources in defending its own existence: it is very probably for this reason that the state of things in Europe is entirely different from what it would have been on a contrary supposition; and perhaps in the latter case there would not have existed the sad necessity of exhausting itself in impotent efforts against an evil, which, according to all appearances, and unless hitherto unknown means can be devised, appears without remedy. I shall be told that the Church in this case would have had an excessive authority over all that relates to charity, and would have unjustly usurped the civil power. This is a mistake; the Church has never claimed any thing that is not quite conformable to her indelible character of protector of all the unfortunate. During some centuries, it is true, we hardly hear any other voice or perceive any other action than hers, in all that relates to beneficence; but we must observe that the civil power during that time was very far from possessing a regular and vigorous administration, capable of doing without the aid of the Church. The latter was so far from being actuated by any motives of ambition, that her double charge of spiritual and temporal things imposed on her all sorts of sacrifices.
Three centuries have passed away since the event of which we now lament the fatal results. Europe during this period has been submitted in great part to the influence of Protestantism, but it has made no progress thereby. I cannot believe that these three centuries would have passed away under the exclusive influence of Catholicity, without producing in the bosom of Europe a degree of charity sufficient to raise the system of beneficence to the height demanded by the difficulties and new interests of society. If we look at the different systems which ferment in minds devoted to the study of this grave question, we shall always find there association under one form or another. Now association has been at all times one of the favorite principles of Catholicity, which, by proclaiming unity in faith, proclaims it also in all things; but there is this difference, that a great number of associations which are conceived and established in our days are nothing but an agglomeration of interests; they want unity of will and of aim, conditions which can be obtained only by means of Christian charity. Yet these two conditions are indispensably necessary to accomplish great works of beneficence, if any thing else is required than a mere measure of public administration. As to the administration itself, it is of little avail when it is not vigorous; and unfortunately, in acquiring the necessary vigor, its action becomes somewhat stiff and harsh. Therefore it is that Christian charity is required, which, penetrating on all sides like a balsam, softens all that is harsh in human action. I pity the unfortunate who in their necessities find only the succor of the civil authorities, without the intervention of Christian charity. In reports presented to the public, philanthropy may and will exaggerate the care which it lavishes on the unfortunate, but things will not be so in reality. The love of our brethren, when it is not founded on religious principle, is as fruitful in words as it is barren in deeds. The sight of the poor, of the sick, of impotent old age, is too disagreeable for us long to bear it, unless we are urged to it by very powerful motives. Even much less can we hope that a vague feeling of humanity will suffice to make us encounter, as we should, the constant cares required to console these unfortunate beings. When Christian charity is wanting, a good administration will no doubt enforce punctuality and exactitude – all that can be demanded of men who receive a salary for their services: but one thing will be wanting, which nothing can replace and money cannot buy, viz. love. But it will be asked, have you no faith in philanthropy? No; for as M. de Chateaubriand says, philanthropy is only the false coin of charity. It was then perfectly reasonable that the Church should have a direct influence in all branches of beneficence, for she knew better than any others how to make Christian charity active, by applying it to all kinds of necessities and miseries. Therein she did not gratify her ambition, but found food for her zeal; she did not claim a privilege, but exerted a right. In fine, if you will persevere in calling such a desire ambition, you cannot deny at least that it was ambition of a new kind. An ambition truly worthy of glory and reward, is that which claims the right of succoring and consoling the unfortunate.23