We are continually hearing the Contrat Social of Rousseau condemned on account of its anarchical doctrines, whilst at the same time doctrines are circulated tending visibly to weaken religion. Can we possibly believe that the Contrat Social has alone caused all the commotions of Europe? It has doubtless produced serious evils, but still more serious ones have been caused by that irreligion which so deeply undermines the foundations of society, which loosens family bonds, and delivers up the individual to the caprice of his passions, with no other restraint or guide than the promptings of his own low egotism. Men of upright and reflecting minds begin to penetrate these truths. We find, nevertheless, in the political sphere, this error, which attributes to the action of civil government sufficient creative power to form, organize, and preserve society, independently of all moral and religious influences. It is of little consequence what be maintained in theory, if this error be acted upon in practice; and what avails the proclaiming of certain sound principles, if our conduct is not guided by them? These philosophico-political schools, which are desirous of ruling the destinies of the world, proceed in a way diametrically opposite to that of Christianity. The latter, whose principal object was heaven, did not, however, neglect the happiness of man upon earth; it addressed itself directly to the understanding and the heart, considering that the community is regulated by the conduct of individuals, and that, in order to have a well-regulated society, it was necessary to have good citizens. To proclaim certain political principles, to institute particular forms – such is the panacea of some schools, who deem it possible to govern society without exercising a due influence over the intelligence and heart of man; reason and experience agree in teaching us what we may expect from such a system.
Profoundly to impress the minds of men with religion and morality, – this is the first step towards the prevention of revolutions and disorganization. When these sacred objects have acquired their full influence over the hearts of men, there is no longer any thing to be apprehended from a greater or less latitude in political opinions. What confidence can a government repose in a man professing highly monarchical opinions, if he join impiety to them? Will he who refuses to give to God his rights, respect those of temporal kings? "The first thing," says Seneca, "is the worship of the gods, and faith in their existence; we are next to acknowledge their majesty, and bounty, without which there is no majesty." "Primum est Deorum cultus, Deos credere; deinde reddere illis majestatem suam, reddere bonitatem, sine qua nulla majestas est." (Seneca, Epist. 95.) Observe how Cicero, the first orator and perhaps the greatest philosopher of Rome, expresses himself: "It is necessary," says he, "that the citizens should be first persuaded of the existence of gods, the directors and rulers of all things, in whose hands are all events, who are ever conferring on mankind immense benefits, who search the heart of man, who see his actions, the spirit of piety which he carries into the practice of religion, and who distinguish the life of the pious from that of the ungodly man." "Sit igitur jam hoc a principio persuasum civibus, dominos esse omnium rerum, ac moderatores deos; eaque quæ gerantur, eorum geri ditione ac numine, eosdemque optime de genere hominum mereri, et qualis quisque sit, quid agat, quid inde admittat, qua mente, qua pietate colat religiones intueri: piorumque et impiorum habere rationem." (Cic. de Nat. Deor. 2.)
These truths should be profoundly impressed upon the mind: the evils of society do not principally emanate from political ideas or systems; the root of the evil lies in religion; and if a check is not put upon irreligion, it is vain to proclaim the most rigid monarchical principles. Hobbes did certainly flatter kings a little more than Bellarmin; and yet, when these two writers are compared, what sensible monarch would not prefer as a subject the learned and pious controvertist?30
CHAPTER LIII.
ON THE FACULTIES OF THE CIVIL POWER
Having shown that the Catholic doctrine upon the origin of the civil power does not include any thing but what is perfectly reasonable and reconcilable with the true interests of the people, let us discuss the second of the proposed questions. Let us inquire into the nature of the faculties of this power, and see whether under this aspect the Church teaches any thing favorable to despotism – to that oppression of which she is so calumniously accused of being a supporter. We invite our opponents to demonstrate the contrary, fully confident that they will find it more difficult to succeed in so doing, than to accumulate vague accusations, which serve only to lead too confiding minds astray. To sustain these charges properly, recourse should be had to texts of Scripture, to tradition, to the decisions of Councils, or to those of Supreme Pontiffs, to passages of the Fathers; and it should be shown that these immoderately extend the bounds of power, with the design of placing undue restraint upon the liberty of the people, or of destroying it. But it will be said, if the sources retained their purity, the streams have been polluted by commentators; in other terms, theologians of latter ages, becoming the adulators of civil power, have powerfully labored to extend its faculties, and, consequently, to establish despotism. As many persons too readily claim the right of criticizing the doctors of what is termed the period of decline, flippantly censuring those illustrious men, without having ever taken the trouble to open their works, it is necessary for us to enter into some details on this subject, and to dispel prejudices and errors which are seriously injurious to religion, and not less so to science.
The declamations and invectives of Protestants have induced certain minds to imagine that every idea of liberty would have disappeared from the heart of Europe, had it not been for the timely intervention of the pretended Reformation of the sixteenth century. According to this idea, Catholic theologians are represented as a crowd of ignorant monks, capable only of writing, in bad language and in still worse style, a heap of nonsense, the ultimate and only aim of which was to exalt the authority of Popes and kings, and to support intellectual and political oppression, obscurantism, and tyranny. That a portion should become the victim of illusion in matters the investigation of which is difficult and arduous; that the reader should suffer himself to be deceived by a writer on whose word he must either rely or remain in complete ignorance, – as, for example, in the description of a country or a phenomenon examined only by the narrator, – is nothing strange; but that any one should adhere to errors which a few moments spent in the most obscure library would eradicate, that the authors of the brilliant volumes of Paris should have the privilege of disfiguring with impunity the opinions of a writer lying covered with dust and forgotten in the same library, and perhaps on the same shelf upon which the former glitter; that the reader should peruse with avidity the glossy pages of the newly-published work, filling his mind with the writer's notions, without even so much as putting forth his hand to the voluminous tome within his reach, and which needs only to be opened to furnish at every page a refutation of the censures in which levity, if not bad faith, is so ready to indulge; is difficult to be conceived or excused in any man professing to be a lover of science, and a conscientious investigator of truth. A great number of writers would assuredly not be so ready and free to speak of what they have never studied, to analyze books which they have never read, if they did not reckon upon the docility and levity of their readers; they would certainly refrain from pronouncing magisterially upon an opinion, a system, or a school, in fine, upon the labors of many ages, from deciding the gravest questions by a sally of wit, if they found that the reader, seized in his turn with distrust, and particularly with the skepticism of the period, would not place implicit faith in their assertions, but would take the trouble to confront them with the facts to which they relate.
Our ancestors did not consider themselves justified, I will not say in making an assertion, but even a single allusion, without giving careful references to the source of their information. Their delicacy on this point was carried to excess; but we have done wrong by going to the opposite extreme, and judging that we might dispense with all formality, even in the most important matters which imperiously demand the testimony of facts. But the opinions of ancient writers are facts, facts averred in their writings. By judging them hastily, without entering into details, without imposing upon ourselves the obligation of quoting authorities, we incur the suspicion of falsifying history, and history, I repeat, the most precious, that of the human mind. The levity observable in certain writers proceeds, in a great measure, from the character which science has assumed in our days. There is no longer any particular science, but only a general one, embracing them all, and including in its immense circle all branches of knowledge. Consequently, minds of ordinary capacity are obliged to remain satisfied with vague notions, unfortunately only serving to stimulate abstraction and universality. Never was knowledge so much generalized as now, and never was it more difficult to obtain deserved renown for wisdom. In every aspirant to scientific excellence the state of science requires a laborious activity in the acquisition of knowledge, profound reflection to regulate and direct it, a comprehensive and penetrating view to simplify and concentrate it, an intellect of a high order, elevating him to the regions in which science has established her abode. How many men are endowed with these qualifications? But let us revert to the subject.
Catholic theologians are so far from favoring despotism, that I doubt much whether it would be possible to find better books than theirs for enabling us to form clear and just ideas of the faculties of power. I will even add that, generally speaking, they incline, in a very remarkable manner, to the development of true liberty. The great type of theological schools, the model to the contemplation of which they have constantly turned during several centuries, are the works of St. Thomas of Aquin; and we may with full confidence defy our opponents to find us a jurist or philosopher who expounds with more lucidity, wisdom, noble independence, and generous dignity, the principles to which civil power ought to adhere. His Treatise upon Laws is immortal, and whoever has fully comprehended it has no further information to acquire respecting the great principles which ought to guide the legislator. You think lightly of past times, imagining that till now nothing was known of politics or public right; and in your imagination you invent an incestuous alliance between religion and despotism, fancying you have discovered in the distant obscurity of the cloister, the plot contrived by this infamous pact. But have you heard the opinion of a religious of the thirteenth century upon the nature of law? You already imagine that you see in his ideas force dominating over all, and constantly invoking religion the better to disguise his rude snares with a few falsehoods. Learn, then, that you could not yourself have given a milder definition of law. You would never have thought, as he has done, of excluding from it the idea of force; you could never have conceived how, in so few words, he has managed to say all, and with such exactitude, such lucidity, in terms so favorable to the true liberty of the people and to the dignity of man. The definition here spoken of being the summary of his entire doctrine, and at the same time the guide which has directed theologians, may be considered as an abridgment of theological doctrines in their relation to the faculties of civil power. It presents to us at a single glance what were, in this point of view, the predominating principles among Catholics.
Civil power acts upon society through the medium of the law; and, according to St. Thomas, the law is, "a rule dictated by reason, the aim of which is the public good, and promulgated by him who has the care of society." "Quædam rationis ordinatio ad bonum commune, et ab eo qui curam communitatis habet promulgata." (1, 2, quæst. 90, art. 4.) A rule dictated by reason, rationis ordinatio. Here by one word despotism and force are banished; here is the principle that the law is not a pure effect of the will. The celebrated maxim, Quod principi placuit legis habet vigorem, is here corrected. Although capable of a reasonable and just interpretation, this maxim was, nevertheless, incorrect, and inclined to flattery. A celebrated writer of our days has devoted numerous pages to proving that legitimacy has not its origin in the will of man, but in reason, inferring from this that what ought to command men is not in the will of another man, but reason. With much less pomp, but not less solidity and conciseness, the holy Doctor expresses this idea in the words above quoted, rationis ordinatio. On reflection we find that despotism, arbitrary power, and tyranny are nothing else than the absence of reason in power, the domination of the will. When reason commands, there is legitimacy, justice, liberty; when the will alone commands, there is illegitimacy, injustice, despotism. Hence the fundamental idea of all law is, that it be in accordance with reason, that it be an emanation from reason, an application of reason to society; and the will, in giving its sanction to law and carrying it into execution, should be merely auxiliary to reason, its instrument, its arm.
It is evident that, without the action of the will, there is no law; for acts of pure reason, without the co-operation of the will, are thoughts and not commands. They enlighten the mind, but do not produce action. It is, therefore, impossible to conceive the existence of law without the combined operation of the will and of reason. But this is no reason why we should not consider all law to have a rational foundation and to be conformable to reason, that it may merit the name of law. These observations have not escaped the penetration of the holy Doctor; he examines them, and dispels the error of believing that the law consists in the mere will of the prince. He expresses himself as follows: "Reason receives its motive power from the will, as we have observed above (quæst. 17, art. 1;) for whilst the will seeks the end, reason enjoins the means of its attainment; but the will, to have the force of law, must be guided by reason. In this sense only can the will of a sovereign be said to have the force of law; in any other sense it would not be law, but injustice." "Ratio habet vim movendi a voluntate, ut supra dictum est. (Quæst. 17, art. 1.) Ex hoc enim quod aliquis vult finem, ratio imperat de his quæ sunt ad finem, sed voluntas de his quæ imperantur, ad hoc quod legis rationem habeat, oportet quod sit aliqua ratione regulata; et hoc modo intelligitur quod voluntas principis habet vigorem legis; alioquin voluntas principis magis esset iniquitas quam lex." (Quæst. 90, art. 1.)
These doctrines of St. Thomas are the same as those of all theologians. Impartiality and good sense will tell us whether they are favorable to absolutism and despotism, whether they are in any way opposed to true liberty, whether they are not eminently conformable to the dignity of man. These doctrines form the most explicit and conclusive proclamation of the limits of civil power, and they certainly have in this respect more weight than the declarations of imprescriptible rights. That which humbles man, wounds in him the feeling of a just independence, and introduces despotism into the world, is the will of man commanding and exacting submission merely because it is his will; but by submitting to reason, being guided by her dictates, we are not degraded; on the contrary, we are elevated, we are dignified, for we live conformably to eternal order and to the divine will. The obligation of being subject to the law does not originate in the will of another, but in reason. Theologians, however, have not considered the latter of itself sufficient to command. They derive the sanction of the law from a higher source; when the conscience of man was to be acted upon, to be bound by duty, they could find nothing in the sphere of created things capable of attaining so high an object. "Human laws, if they are just," says the holy Doctor, "are binding in conscience, and they derive their power from the eternal law, from which they are formed, according to what is said in Proverbs, chap. viii., 'By Me kings reign, and the lawgivers decree just things.'" "Si quidem justæ sunt, habent vim obligandi in foro conscientiæ a lege eterna, a qua derivantur, secundum illud Proverb. cap. 8, per me reges regnant, et legum conditores justa decernunt." (1, 2, quæst. 96, art. 3.) This proves, according to St. Thomas, that just law is derived not exactly from human reason, but from the eternal law; and that this is what makes it binding upon conscience.
This is doubtless more philosophical than to seek the obligatory force of laws in private reason, in pacts, or in the general will. In this manner the titles, the true titles of humanity are explained, a reasonable limit is placed upon civil power, and obedience is easily obtained; the rights and duties of governments, as well as those of subjects, are established upon solid and indestructible foundations; the nature of power, society, command, and obedience become perfectly comprehensible. It is no longer the will of one man predominating over that of his fellow-man; it is not his reason, but reason emanating from God, or more properly speaking the reason of God, the eternal law, God Himself. A sublime theory, in which power finds its rights, its duties, its force, its authority, its prestige, and in which society possesses its safest guarantee of order, well-being, and true liberty; a theory which divests authority of the will of man, since it changes this will into an instrument of the eternal law, into a divine ministry, whose aim is the public good, ad bonum commune. This, according to St. Thomas, is also one of the essential conditions of law. It has been asked, Whether kings are made for the people, or the people for kings? Such a question could only arise from a want of due reflection upon the nature of society, its object, and its origin, and upon the intent of power. The concise expression above cited, ad bonum commune, is a fitting answer to this question. "Laws," says the holy Doctor, "may be unjust in two ways; either by being opposed to the commonweal, or by having an improper aim, as when a government imposes upon its subjects onerous laws, which do not serve the common interest, but rather cupidity and ambition. Such laws are rather injustices than laws." "Injustæ autem sunt leges dupliciter; uno modo per contrarietatem ad bonum commune, e contrario prædictis; vel ex fine, sicut cum aliquis præsidens leges imponit, onerosas subditis non pertinentes ad utilitatem communem, sed magis ad propriam cupiditatem vel gloriam: … Et hujusmodi magis sunt violentiæ quam leges." (1, 2, q. 96, art. 4.) From this doctrine it follows, that command must be exercised for the well-being of all; and, failing in this condition, it is unjust: governors are invested with it only for the advantage of the governed. Kings are not, as some philosophers, regardless of the most palpable inconsistencies, have absurdly maintained, the slaves of their people; neither is their power a simple commission without any real authority, and continually subject to the caprice of their people; but, at the same time, the people are not the property of their kings. The latter can, by no means, consider their subjects as slaves, to be disposed of at their free-will: governments are not, by any means, the absolute arbiters of the lives and fortunes of the governed; they are bound to watch over them, not as a master over slaves from whom he derives profit, but as a father over the son whom he loves and whose happiness he has at heart.
"The kingdom is not made for the king, but the king for the kingdom," says the holy Doctor, from whom I continue to quote; and, in a style remarkable for its force and freedom, he continues as follows: "for God has constituted kings to rule and govern, and to secure to every one the possession of his rights; such is the aim of their institution; but if kings, turning things to their own profit, should act otherwise, they are no longer kings, but tyrants." (D. Th. de Reg. Princ. cap. 11.) From this doctrine it is evident, that the people are not made for kings; that the subject is not made for the ruler; but that all governments have been established for the good of society, and that this alone should be the compass to guide those who are in command, whatever be the form of government. From the president of the most insignificant republic to the most powerful monarch, none are exempt from this law; for it is a law anterior to society, – a law which presided at the formation of society, and which is superior to human law, inasmuch as it emanates from the Author of all society, from the source of all law.
No, the people are not made for kings; kings are all appointed for the good of the people: and if this object is not accomplished, the government is useless; and this affects the republic as well as the monarchy. To flatter kings with opposite maxims is to ruin them. Religion has not, at any time, done this; this was not the language of those illustrious men who, clothed in the sacerdotal habit, delivered to the powerful ones of the earth the messages of Heaven. "Kings, princes, magistrates," cries out the venerable Palafox, "all jurisdiction is ordained by God for the preservation of His people, not for their destruction; for defence, not for offence; for man's right, and not for his injury. They who maintain that kings can do as they please, and who establish their power upon their will, open the way to tyranny. Those who maintain that kings have power to do as they ought, and what is necessary for the preservation of their subjects and of their crowns, for the exaltation of faith and religion, for the just and right administration of justice, the preservation of peace and the support of just war, for the due and becoming éclat of regal dignity, the honorable maintenance of their houses and families, speak the truth without flattery, throw open the gates to justice, and to magnanimous and royal virtues." (Hist. Real. Sagrada, lib. i. cap. 11.) When Louis XIV. said, "I am the state," he had not learned this maxim either from Bossuet, Bourdaloue, or Masillon. Pride, exalted by so much grandeur and power, and infatuated by base adulators, was here speaking by his mouth. How unsearchable are the ways of Providence! The corpse of this man, who said he was the state, was insulted at his funeral; and, before the lapse of a century, his grandson suffered death on the scaffold! Thus the crimes of families are expiated, as well as those of nations. When the measure of His indignation is filled up, the Lord reminds terrified man that the God of mercy is likewise a God of vengeance, and that, as He opened upon the world the floodgates of heaven, so also He lets loose upon kings and nations the tempests of revolution. When once the rights and duties of power are founded upon a base as solid as that of their divine origin, when once they become established by a rule as exalted as that of the eternal law, there is no longer any necessity for extolling or exaggerating power, nor of attributing to it faculties to which it has no claim; and, on the other hand, it is no longer necessary to exact from it the fulfilment of its obligations with that imperious haughtiness which enervates by humiliating it. Flattery and menace become alike needless when there are other resources for exciting it to action, and other barriers for restraining it within due bounds. The statue of the king, it is true, is not set up in the public squares as an object for the people's adoration; but, on the other hand, the king is no longer placed at the mercy of democrats, soon to become an object of mockery and derision, the contemptible laughing-stock of demagogues.
Observe the moderation and mildness of the definition we have just analysed! It does not contain a single word which can wound the most delicate susceptibility of the most ardent partisans of public liberty. The law, according to this definition, consists in the rule of reason; the common weal is its only aim; and when the authority of him who promulgates and executes it is spoken of, there is no mention made of any sovereignty, no expression is used indicative of slavish subjection, the most measured term which it was possible to select is made use of —care: Qui CURAM communitatis habet. Bear in mind, that the author here quoted is accustomed to weigh his words like precious metal, and to employ them with the most scrupulous delicacy, pausing a long time, when necessary, to explain any that may present the least ambiguity, and you will then understand what ideas this great man entertained upon power; you will discover whether the spirit of oppressive doctrines could have prevailed in the Catholic schools, in which this Doctor was, and is still, acknowledged as an almost infallible oracle.
Compare the definition given by St. Thomas, and adopted by all theologians, with that which Rousseau has given. In that of St. Thomas, law is the expression of reason; in that of Rousseau, the expression of will: in the former, it is an application of the eternal law; in the latter, the product of general will. On which side are wisdom and good sense? Law was understood among the nations of Europe as it is explained by St. Thomas and all the Catholic schools; and tyranny was banished from Europe, Asiatic despotism was impossible, the admirable institution of European monarchy was established. At a later period, Rousseau's explanation was adopted, and then came the Convention, with its scaffolds and its horrors.
Publicists have already nearly abandoned the theory of "a general will;" and even those who contend for the sovereignty of the people, do not maintain that the will of all the citizens should constitute the law. The law, say they, is not the expression of general will, but of general reason. The philosopher of Geneva would have the will of individuals collected, the aggregate of which he termed the general will. In like manner, the publicists of whom we are speaking are of opinion that it is necessary to collect, amongst the governed, the greatest amount of reason, and to give this to the government for its guidance, the governing body being merely an instrument for the application of it. It is not men who command, say they, but the law; and the law is nothing else than reason and justice.
This theory, so far as it is correct, and apart from the applications which might be made of it, is not a discovery of modern science; it is a traditional principle of all Europe, which presided at the formation of society, and has given to civil power an organisation differing widely from those of antiquity, and equally so from those of modern times that have not participated in our civilisation. This, on close examination, appears to be the reason why European monarchies, even the most absolute, have been so very different from the Asiatic. A singular phenomenon: at the very time when society among us had no legal guarantees against the power of kings, it still had other very forcible ones which were purely moral. Modern science cannot, therefore, claim the discovery of a new principle of government; it has unknowingly resuscitated the ancient one. By rejecting the doctrine of Rousseau, instead of making, according to the vulgar expression, a step in advance, it retrograded; but to retrograde is not always to lose an advantage. What is or can be lost by receding from the brink of a precipice to enter upon a safe road? Rousseau complains, and with reason, that certain writers have so far exaggerated the prerogatives of civil power, as to convert mankind into a common herd, of which rulers could dispose to serve their interest or caprice. Such reproaches, however, cannot be applied to the Catholic Church, nor to any of the illustrious schools sheltered in her bosom. The philosopher of Geneva makes a severe attack upon Hobbes and Grotius for having maintained this servile doctrine. Catholics have nothing to do with the cause of these two writers. I will observe, however, that it would not be just to place the latter upon a parallel with the former. Grotius has certainly afforded reason for the accusation. He maintains that there are cases in which governments are not for the benefit of the governed, but for that of the governing powers. "Sic imperia quædam esse possunt comparata ad regum utilitatem." (De Jure Belli et Pacis, lib. i. cap. 3.) But, whilst we acknowledge that this principle has a dangerous tendency, we grant that the doctrines of the Dutch writer do not upon the whole tend to the total ruin of morality.
By rendering Grotius his due share of justice, we prevent any exaggeration of the evil which may exist on the side of our opponents; it must now be permitted to Catholic hearts to remark with noble satisfaction, that such doctrines could never be established amongst the professors of the true faith, and that the fatal maxims which lead to oppression have originated precisely among those who have deviated from the teaching of the Chair of St. Peter. No; Catholics have never brought under discussion whether kings have an unlimited power over the lives and fortunes of their subjects, to such a degree as to admit of no opposition, whatever be the excess of the absolutism and despotism exercised over them. Whenever flattery raised its voice to exaggerate the royal prerogative, this voice was immediately silenced by the unanimous outcry of the supporters of sound doctrine. Witness the remarkable example of a solemn retractation imposed by the tribunal of the Inquisition upon a preacher who had exceeded his bounds. Not so in England, a country proverbial for its hatred of Catholicity. Whilst here, in Spain, it was forbidden under a severe penalty to circulate maxims so degrading, in England the question was proposed with the greatest gravity, and writers upon law were divided in their sentiments. (See end of chapter 39.)