"In England the Jesuits have destroyed kings, in Spain nations." Nothing is easier than these bold strokes of the pen; the whole of a great history is traced in a single line, and an infinity of facts, grouped and confounded, are made to pass under the eye of the reader with the rapidity of lightning; the eye has not even time to look at them, still less to analyze them as would be necessary. M. Guizot should have devoted some sentences to prove his assertion; he should have stated the facts and pointed out the reasons on which he builds, when he affirms that the influence of the Jesuits has had so fatal an effect. With respect to the kings of England here so boldly sacrificed, I cannot enter into an examination of the religious and political revolutions which agitated and desolated the three kingdoms for two centuries after the schism of Henry VIII. These revolutions, in their immense circle, have presented very different phases; disfigured and perverted by the Protestants, who have success in their favor, that decisive, if not convincing argument, they have made some men of little reflection believe that the disasters of England were in great part due to the imprudence of the Catholics, and, as an indispensable corollary, to the pretended intrigues of the Jesuits. In spite of this, the Catholic movement which England has witnessed for half a century, and the great works which every day carry on the restoration of Catholicity, will at last disperse the calumnies by which our faith has been stigmatized. Before long, the history of the last three centuries will be restored as it ought, and the truth will appear in its proper light. This observation relieves me from the necessity of entering into details on the subject of the first assertion of M. Guizot; but I must not leave without reply what he so gratuitously affirms on the subject of Spain.
"The Jesuits have destroyed nations in Spain," says M. Guizot; I wish that the publicist had explained to us to what great disaster he alluded. To what period does he refer? I have examined our history, and I do not find this destruction which was caused by the Jesuits; I cannot imagine whereon the historian fixed his eyes when he pronounced these words. Nevertheless, the antithesis between Spain and England, between nations and kings, leads us to suspect that M. Guizot alluded to the shipwreck of political liberty; we are not aware that there is any other better-founded or more legitimate interpretation. But then a new difficulty presents itself: how can we believe that a man so versed in the knowledge of history, composing a course of lectures which is particularly devoted to the general history of European civilization, should fall into a palpable error, – should commit an unpardonable anachronism? Indeed, whatever may be the judgments of publicists on the causes which have produced the loss of liberty in Spain, and on the important events of the days of the Catholic sovereigns, of Philippe le Beau, of Jeanne-la-Folle, and the regency of Cisneros, all are unanimous in saying that the war of the Commons was the critical moment, decisive of the liberty of Spain; all are agreed that the two parties played their last stake at that time, and that the battle of Villalar and the punishment of Padilla, by confirming and increasing the royal power, destroyed the last hopes of the partisans of the ancient liberties. Well, the battle of Villalar was fought in 1521; at that time the Jesuits did not exist, and St. Ignatius, their founder, was still a brilliant knight, battling like a hero under the walls of Pampeluna. To this there is no reply; all philosophy and eloquence are unable to efface these dates.
During the sixteenth century, the Cortes met more or less often, and with more or less influence, above all in the kingdom of Aragon; but it is as clear as daylight that the royal power had every thing under its domination, that nothing could resist it, and the unfortunate attempt of the Aragonese, at the time of the affair of Don Antonio Perez, sufficiently shows that there existed then no remains of ancient liberty which could oppose the will of kings. Some years after the war of the Commons, Charles V. gave the
coup de grace
to the Cortes of Castile, by excluding from it the clergy and the nobles, to leave only the
Estamento de Procuradores
, a feeble rampart against the exigencies, against the all-powerful attempts of a monarch on whose dominions the sun never set. This exclusion took place in 1538, at the time when St. Ignatius was still occupied with the foundation of his order; the Jesuits, therefore, could have had no influence therein.
Still more, the Jesuits, after their establishment in Spain, never employed their influence against the liberty of the people. From their pulpits they did not teach doctrines favorable to despotism; if they reminded the people of their duties, they also reminded kings of theirs; if they wished the rights of monarchs to be respected, they would not allow those of the people to be trodden under foot. To prove the truth of this, I appeal to the testimony of those who have read the writings of the Jesuits of that time on questions of public law. "The Jesuits," says M. Guizot, "were called to contend against the general course of events, against the development of modern civilization, against the liberty of the human mind." If the general course of events is nothing but the course of Protestantism, if the development of Protestantism is the development of modern civilization, if the liberty of the human mind consists only in the fatal pride, in the mad independence which the pretended reformers communicated to it, then nothing is more true than the assertion of the publicist; but if the preservation of Catholicity is a fact of any weight in the history of Europe, if her influence during the last three centuries has amounted to any thing, if the reigns of Charles V., Philip II., Louis XIV., do not deserve to be effaced from modern history, and if regard ought to be had to that immense counterpoise to which was owing the equilibrium of the two religions; in fine, if the faith of Descartes, Malebranche, Bossuet, and Fénélon, can make a dignified appearance in the picture of modern civilization, it is impossible to understand how the Jesuits, when intrepidly defending Catholicity, could be struggling against the general course of events, against the development of modern civilization, and against the freedom of human thought.
After having made this first false step, M. Guizot continues to slip in a deplorable manner. I particularly call the attention of my readers to the following evident contradictions: "With the Jesuits, there is no
éclat
, no grandeur. They have performed no brilliant exploits." The publicist entirely forgets what he has just advanced, or rather he directly retracts it, when he adds, a few lines further, "and yet, nothing is more certain than that they have had grandeur; a grand idea belongs to their names, to their influence, and to their history. It is because they knew what they did, and what they wished; it is because they had a clear and full knowledge of the principles on which they acted, and of the end towards which they tended; that is to say, because they have had grandeur of thought and of will." Is genius in its vastest enterprises, in the realization of its most gigantic projects, any thing more than a grand idea and a grand intention? The mind conceives, the will executes; this fashions the model, that makes the application; if there be grandeur in the model and in the application, how can the whole work fail to be grand?
Pursuing the task of lowering the Jesuits, M. Guizot makes a parallel between them and the Protestants; he confounds ideas in such a way, and so far forgets the nature of things, that one would hardly believe it, if the words themselves did not prove it beyond a doubt. Forgetting that it is necessary for the terms of a comparison not to be of a totally different kind, which renders all comparison impossible, M. Guizot compares a religious institute with whole nations; he goes so far as to reproach the Jesuits with not having raised the people
en masse
, and with not having changed the form and condition of states. Here is the passage: "They have acted in subterraneous, dark, and inferior ways; in ways which were not at all apt to strike the imagination, or to conciliate for them that public interest which attaches itself to great things, whatever may be their principle and end. The party against which they contended, on the contrary, not only conquered, but conquered with
éclat
; it has done great things and by great means; it has aroused nations; it has filled Europe with great men; it has changed the form and the lot of nations in the face of day. In a word, all has been against the Jesuits, both fortune and appearances." Without intending to offend M. Guizot, let us avow, that for the honor of his logic, one would desire to efface from his writings such phrases as we have just read. What! ought the Jesuits to have put the nations in motion, made them arise
en masse
, and changed the form and condition of states? Would they not have been extraordinary religious men, if they had been allowed to do such things? It was said of the Jesuits that they had unbounded ambition, and that they attempted to rule the world; and now they are compared with their adversaries in order to throw it in their faces that the latter have overturned the world; a distinguished merit, which must have been a disgrace to the Jesuits themselves. Indeed, the Jesuits have never attempted to imitate their adversaries on this point; with respect to the spirit of confusion and perturbation, they joyfully yield the palm to those to whom it rightly belongs.
As far as great men are concerned, if the question be with respect to the greatness of the enterprises which are becoming in a minister of the God of peace, then have the Jesuits had this kind of grandeur in an eminent degree. Whether it be in the most arduous affairs, or in the vastest projects in science and literature, whether it be in the most distant missions, or in the most redoubtable perils, the Jesuits have never remained behind; on the contrary, they have been seen to display a spirit so bold and enterprising, that they have thereby obtained the most distinguished renown. If the great men of whom M. Guizot speaks are restless tribunes, who, putting themselves at the head of an ungovernable people, violated the public peace, if they are the Protestant warriors whose names have shone in the wars of Germany, France, and England, the comparison is foolish, and has no meaning; for priests and warriors, religious and tribunes, are so distinct, so different in actions and character, that to compare them is impossible.
Justice required that in such a parallel, where the Jesuits are taken as one of the terms of the comparison, Protestants should not be placed on the other, unless by them the reformed ministers are meant. Even in this later case the comparison would not have been absolutely exact, since, in the midst of the great differences between the two religions, the Jesuits are not found alone in defending Catholicity. The Church, during the last three centuries, has had great prelates, holy priests, eminent
savants
, and writers of the first order, who did not belong to the company of Jesus; the Jesuits were reckoned among the principal champions, but they were not the only ones. Had it been wished fairly to compare Protestantism with Catholicity, it would have been requisite to oppose Protestant to Catholic nations, to compare priests with priests,
savants
with savants, politicians with politicians, warriors with warriors; to do otherwise is monstrously to confound names and things, and to reckon too much on the limited understandings and excessive simplicity of hearers and readers. It is certain that if the method we have pointed out were adopted, Protestantism would not appear so brilliant and superior as the publicist has exhibited it to us. Catholics, as M. Guizot well knows, do not yield to Protestants in letters, in war, or in political ability. History is there; let it be consulted.
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE FUTURE OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. – THEIR PRESENT NECESSITY
When, after having fixed our eyes on the vast and interesting picture which religious communities present to us, after having called to mind their origin, their varied forms, their vicissitudes of poverty and riches, of depression and prosperity, of coldness and of fervor, of relaxation and strict reform, we see them still subsist and arise anew on all sides, in spite of the efforts of their enemies, we naturally ask what will be their future? their past is full of glory; what influence have they not exerted in society, under a thousand different aspects, and in the thousand phases of society itself? Yet what spectacle do they show us in modern times? On one hand they have been weakened, like an old wall which we see ruined by the effect of time; on the other we have seen them suddenly disappear, like weak trees overthrown by the whirlwind. Moreover, they seemed to be condemned by the spirit of the age without appeal. Matter having become supreme, extended its empire on all sides, scarcely allowing the mind a moment for reflection and meditation; industry and commerce, carrying their turmoil to the remotest parts of the earth, confirmed the judgment of an irreligious philosophy against a class of men devoted to prayer, silence, and solitude. Nevertheless, facts every day belie their conjectures; the hearts of Christians still preserve the most flattering hopes, and these hopes are strengthened and animated more and more. The hand of God, who carries out His high designs and laughs at the vain thoughts of man, shows it more and more wonderful. Philosophy sees a wide field for meditation open before it; it anticipates the probable future of religious communities; it may make conjectures on the influence which is reserved for them in society for the future.
We have already seen what is the real origin of religious institutions; we have found that origin in the spirit of the Catholic religion, and history has told us that they have arisen wherever she is established. They have varied in form, in rule, in object, but the fact has been always the same. Thence we have inferred that wherever the Catholic faith shall be maintained, religious institutions will appear anew under some form or other. This prognostic may be made with complete certainty; we do not fear that time will belie it. We live in an age steeped in voluptuous materialism; interests which are called positive, or, in plainer terms, gold and pleasure, have acquired such an ascendency that we might apparently fear to see some societies lamentably retrograde towards the manners of paganism, towards that period of disgrace when religion might be summed up in the deification of matter. But in the midst of this afflicting picture, when the mind, full of anguish, feels itself on the point of swooning away, the observer sees that the soul of man is not yet dead, and that lofty ideas, noble and dignified feelings, are not entirely banished from the earth. The human mind feels itself too great to be limited to wretched objects; it comprehends that it is given it to rise higher than an air-balloon.
Observe what happens with respect to industrial progress. Those steam-vessels which leave our ports with the rapidity of an arrow to traverse the immensity of ocean, those burning vehicles which skim along our plains, and penetrate into the heart of mountains, realizing under our eyes what would have seemed a dream to our fathers; those other machines which give movement to gigantic workshops, and as if by magic set in motion innumerable instruments, and elaborate with the most wonderful precision the most delicate productions: all this is great and wonderful. But however great, however wonderful it may be, it no longer astonishes; these wonders no longer captivate our attention in a more lively manner than the generality of the objects which surround us. Man feels that he is still greater than these machines and masterpieces of art; his heart is an abyss which nothing can fill; give him the whole world, and the void will be the same. The depth is immeasurable; the soul, created in the image and likeness of God, cannot be satisfied without the possession of Him.
The Catholic religion constantly revives these lofty thoughts, and points out this immense void. In barbarous times she placed herself among rude and ignorant nations to lead them to civilization; she now remains among civilized nations to provide against the dissolution which threatens them. She disregards the coldness and neglect with which indifference and ingratitude reply to her; she cries out without ceasing, addresses her warnings to the faithful with indefatigable constancy, makes her voice resound in the ears of the incredulous, and remains intact and immovable in the midst of the agitation and instability of human things. Thus do those wonderful temples which have been left to us by the remotest antiquity, remain entire amid the action of time, of revolutions, and of convulsions; around them arise and disappear the habitations of men, the palaces of the great and the cottages of the poor, but the time-stained edifice stands like a solemn and mysterious object in the midst of the smiling fields and showy structures which surround it; its vast cupola annihilates all that is near; its summit boldly rises towards the heavens.
The labors of religion do not remain without fruit; penetrating minds acknowledge her truths; even those who refuse their submission to the faith confess the beauty, utility, and necessity of this divine religion; they regard it as an historical fact of the highest importance, and agree that the good order and prosperity of families and states depend upon it. But God, who watches over the safety of the church, is not content with these avowals of philosophy; torrents of all-powerful grace descend from on high, and the Divine Spirit is diffused and renewed on the face of the earth. Even from the whirlwind of the world, corrupt and indifferent as it is, privileged men frequently come forth, whose foreheads have been touched with the flame of inspiration, and whose hearts are on fire with heavenly love. In retreat, in solitude, in meditation on the eternal truths, they have acquired that disposition of mind which is necessary to perform arduous tasks; in spite of raillery and ingratitude, they devote themselves to console the unfortunate, to educate the young, and to convert idolatrous nations. The Catholic religion will last till the end of time, and so long will there be these privileged men separated by God from the rest, to be called to extraordinary sanctity, or to console their brethren in their misfortunes. Now these men will seek each other, will unite to pray, will associate to aid each other in their enterprise, will ask for the apostolical benediction of the Vicar of Jesus Christ, and will found religious institutions. Whether they be old orders only modified, or entirely new ones; whatever be their forms, rules of life or dress, all this is of little importance; the origin, the nature, and the object will be the same. It is vain for men to oppose the miracles of grace.
Even the present condition of society will require the existence of religious institutions. When the organization of modern nations shall have been more profoundly examined, when time by its bitter lessons and terrible experience shall have thrown more light on the real state of things, it will be evident that errors greater than men have imagined, have been committed in the social as well as in the political order. Sad experience has corrected ideas to a great extent, but this does not suffice.
It is evident that present societies want the necessary means to supply the necessities which press upon them. Property is divided and subdivided more and more; every day it becomes more feeble and inconstant, industry multiplies productions in an alarming manner, commerce extends itself indefinitely; that is to say, society, approaching the term of pretended social perfection, is on the point of attaining the wishes of that materialistic school, in whose eyes men are only machines, and which has not imagined that society can undertake any grander or more useful object than the immense development of material interests. Misery has increased in proportion to the augmentation of production; to the eyes of all provident men it is as clear as the light of day that things are pursuing a wrong course, and that if a remedy cannot be applied in time, the
dénouement
will be fatal; the vessel which we see advancing so rapidly, with all her sails set and a favorable wind, is about to strike upon a rock. The accumulation of riches, brought about by the rapidity of the industrial and commercial movement, tends towards the establishment of a system which would devote the sweat and the lives of all to the profit of the few; but this tendency finds its counterpoise in levelling ideas which agitate very many heads, and which, moulded into different theories, more or less openly attack property, the present organization of labor, and the distribution of productions. Immense multitudes, overwhelmed with misery and in want of moral instruction and education, are disposed to promote the realization of projects not less criminal than foolish, whenever an unhappy concurrence of circumstances shall render the attempt possible. It is superfluous to support the melancholy assertions which we have just made with facts; the experience of every day confirms them but too much.
Such being the case, may we be allowed to inquire of society, what means there are, either of improving the state of the masses, or of guiding and restraining them? It is clear that, for the first of these, neither the inspirations of private interests, nor the instinct of preservation which animates the favored classes, are sufficient. These classes, properly speaking, as they exist, have not the character which constitutes a class: they are only a collection of families just emerged from poverty and obscurity, and who rapidly advance towards the abyss whence they came, leaving their place to other families who will run the same course. We find nothing fixed or stable about them. They live from day to day, without thinking of the morrow: far different from the old nobility, whose origin was lost in the obscurity of the remotest antiquity, and whose strength and organization promised long centuries of existence. These men could and did follow a system; for what existed to-day was sure of existence to-morrow; now all is changeable and inconstant. Individuals, like families, labor to accumulate, to lay by riches, not in order to sustain for ages the power and splendor of an illustrious house, but to enjoy to-day what has been but just acquired. The presentiment of the short duration which things must have, augments still more the giddiness and frenzy of dissipation. The times are past when opulent families were desirous of founding some enduring establishment to evince their generosity and perpetuate the splendor of their names: hospitals, and other houses of beneficence, do not come from the coffers of the bankers, as they did from those of the old castles. We must acknowledge, however painful may be the avowal, that the opulent classes of society do not fulfil the duty which belongs to them: the poor should respect the property of the rich; but the rich should, in their turn, respect the condition of the poor: such is the will of God.
It follows from what I have stated, that the resource of beneficence is wanting in the social organization; and observe well, that administration does not constitute society. Administration supposes society to be already existing and entirely formed; when we expect the salvation of society from means purely administrative, we attempt a thing which is out of the laws of nature. In vain shall we imagine new expedients; in vain shall we form ingenious plans, and make new experiments; society has need of a more powerful agent. It is essential that the world should submit to the law of love or that of force, to charity or servitude. All the nations who have not had charity, have found no other means of solving the social problem, than that of subjecting the greatest number to slavery. Reason teaches, and history proves, that neither public order, property, nor even society itself, can exist, unless one of these is chosen; modern society will not be exempted from the general law; the symptoms which now present themselves to our eyes clearly indicate the events whereof the generations which are to succeed us will be the witnesses.
Happily, the fire of charity still burns on the earth; but the indifference and prejudices of the wicked compel it to remain under the embers. They are alarmed at the least spark of it which escapes, as if it would enkindle a fatal conflagration. If the development of institutions which are exclusively based upon the principle of charity was favored, their salutary results and the superiority which they possess over all that are founded on other principles would soon be evident. It is impossible to supply the wants which I have just pointed out, without organizing, on a vast scale, systems of beneficence directed by charity: now this organization cannot be made without religious institutions. It cannot be denied that Christians who live in the world may form associations by which this object will be accomplished more or less completely; but there are always a multitude of cases which absolutely require the co-operation of men exclusively devoted to them. It is necessary, moreover, to have a nucleus to serve as the centre of all efforts, which presents, by its own nature, a guarantee for preservation, and which provides against the interruptions and oscillations which are inevitable in a large concourse of agents, who are not bound together by any tie strong enough to preserve them from differences, from separation, and even from intestine contests.
This vast system which we speak of ought to extend not only to beneficence, but also to the education and instruction of the many. The establishment of schools will remain sterile, if not mischievous, as long as they are not founded upon religion; and they will be thus founded only in appearance and name, while the direction of these schools does not belong to the ministers of religion. The secular clergy may fulfil a portion of this charge, but they are not enough for the task; on the one hand, their limited number, and on the other, their other duties, prevent their acting on a scale sufficiently large to supply all the necessities of the times: hence it follows, that the propagation of religious institutions in our days has a social importance, which cannot be mistaken without shutting one's eyes to the evidence of facts.
If you reflect on the organization of European nations, you will understand that their real advance has been prevented by some fatal cause. Indeed, their situation is so singular, that it cannot be the result of the principles whence these nations have drawn their origin, and which have given them their increase. It is evident that the countless multitude which one sees in society, making use of all its faculties with complete liberty, could not, in the state in which it now is, have been comprised in the primitive design – in the plan of true civilization. When we create forces, we should know what we shall do with them, by what means we shall move and direct them; without this we only prepare violent shocks, endless agitation, disorder, and destruction. The