CHAPTER LIX.
THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
The aristocracy, as including the privileged portion of society, comprehended two classes very distinct in their origin and nature, the nobility and the clergy. Both abounded in power and riches; both were placed far above the people, and were important wheels in the political machine. There was, however, this remarkable difference between them, that the principal basis of the power and grandeur of the Clergy was religious ideas – ideas which circulated throughout society, which animated it, gave it life, and consequently insured for a long time the preponderance of the ecclesiastical power; whilst the grandeur and influence of the nobles rested solely upon a fact necessarily transient, viz. the social organization of the epoch – an organization which was becoming rapidly modified, since the people were then struggling to liberate themselves from the bonds of feudalism. I do not mean, that the nobles did not possess legitimate rights to the power and influence which they exercised; but merely that the principal portion of these rights, even supposing them founded upon the most just laws and titles, was not necessarily connected with any of the great conservative principles of society – those principles which invest with an immense force and ascendency the person or class which in any way represents them. But we touch here upon a subject little investigated, and upon the explanation of which depends the comprehension of great social facts. It is well, therefore, to develop it fully, and to examine it attentively.
Of what was monarchy the representative? Of a principle eminently conservative of society – a principle which has withstood all the attacks of theories and revolutions, and to which have been attached, as the only anchor of safety, those very nations in the bosom of which democratical ideas were diffused, and in which liberal institutions originated. This is one of the causes why monarchy, even in its most calamitous times, triumphed over its disasters. Feudal pride, and the unsettled state of the times, with the agitation of rising democracy, united to oppress it; scarcely was its power distinguishable amid the troubled waves of society, like the broken mast of a shipwrecked vessel. But, even at this time, we find the ideas of force and power bound to those of monarchy. Regal dignity was trampled under foot and outraged in various ways, but still held sacred and recognised as inviolable. Theory was not in accordance with practice; the idea was more forcible than the fact which it expressed: but we need not be astonished at this phenomenon, since such is always the character of ideas producing great changes. They are, at first, merely visible in society; they spread, take root, and penetrate into all institutions; time continues to prepare the way; and if the idea is just and moral, if it point to the satisfaction of a want, the moment at length comes in which facts give way, the idea triumphs, and bends and humbles all before it. This was the case, in the sixteenth century, with regard to monarchy; under one form or another, with greater or less modifications, it was actually essential to the people, as it is still; and for this reason it naturally prevailed over all its adversaries, and survived all accidents.
With respect to the clergy, we need not attempt to show that they were the representatives of the religious principle – a real social necessity for all the nations of the earth, when taken in its general sense; and a real social necessity for the nations of Europe, when taken in its Christian sense.
We have already seen that the nobility could not be compared either to monarchy or to the clergy, since they were destitute of the high principles represented by each of these bodies. Extensive privileges, and the ancient possession of great estates, with the guarantee of the laws and customs of the time; glorious traditions of military feats, pompous names, titles, and escutcheons of illustrious ancestors; such were the insignia of the lay aristocracy. But nothing of all this had any direct and essential relation with the great wants of society. The nobility depended upon a particular organization, necessarily transient; they were too nearly allied to a law purely positive and human, to be able to reckon upon a long duration, or to flatter themselves with success in all their pretensions and exigencies. It will be objected, perhaps, that the existence of an intermediate class between the monarch and the people is an essential necessity, acknowledged by all publicists, and founded upon the very nature of things. In fact, we have seen that in nations from which the ancient aristocracy has disappeared, a new one has been formed, either by the course of events or by the action of governments. But this objection is not applicable to the question in the point of view under which I consider it. I do not deny the necessity of an intermediate class; I merely affirm that the ancient nobility, such as it was, did not contain elements to ensure its duration, since it was liable to be replaced by another, as it has been in effect. The classes of the laity acquire their political and social importance from a superiority of intellect and force; this superiority no longer existing in the nobility, its fall was inevitable. At the beginning of the sixteenth century the throne and the people daily acquired a greater ascendency; the former became the centre of all social forces, and the people were constantly enriching themselves by industry and commerce. With regard to learning, the discovery of printing, as it became general, prevented it from being henceforth the exclusive patrimony of any particular class.
It was evident, therefore, that the nobility perceived, at this epoch, their ancient power escaping, and possessed no other means of preserving a part of it than to struggle to preserve the titles which it had given them. Unfortunately for them, their wealth was daily decreasing, not only from the dilapidations occasioned by luxury, but also from the extraordinary increase of non-territorial riches; the profound changes wrought in the value of every thing by means of the reorganization of society and the discovery of America caused immovable property to lose much of its importance. If the force of landed property was gradually diminishing, the rights of jurisdiction were marching still more rapidly towards their ruin. On one hand, these rights were opposed by the power of kings; and, on the other, by municipalities and other centres of action possessed by the popular element; so that, in spite of the most profound respect for acquired rights, and merely by allowing things to take their ordinary course, the ancient nobility was inevitably sunk to that point of depression in which it now exists. This could not happen to the clergy. Despoiled of their wealth, entirely or partially deprived of their privileges, there still remained for them the ministry of religion. No one could exercise this ministry without them; which was sufficient to insure them great influence in spite of all commotions and changes.
CHAPTER LX.
ON DEMOCRACY
Such was the situation of Europe during the centuries preceding the sixteenth, that it appears difficult to find for democracy a well-defined place in political theories. Stifled by the established powers, deprived as yet of the resources which, in time, gave it the ascendency, it was natural it should be almost unobserved by politicians. It was in reality very feeble; and it was not, therefore, surprising that, owing to the influence of reality over ideas, theorists should regard the people merely as an abject portion of society, unworthy of honors or happiness, and fit only to labor and to serve. It is, however, worthy of remark, that ideas from that time took a new direction; it may even be affirmed that they were infinitely more elevated and more generous than facts. This is one of the most convincing proofs of the intellectual development that Christianity had operated amongst men – one of the most unexceptionable testimonies in favor of that profound sentiment of reason and justice which it had deposited in the heart of society. Now these elements were not to be stifled by events the most unfavorable, nor by the rudest shocks; for they were supported upon the very dogmas of religion, which still remain firm, in spite of all commotion, as an immovable axis remains fixed in the midst of broken machinery.
In perusing the writings of this epoch, we find established, as an indubitable fact, the right of the people to the administration of justice; they were not to be irritated by any vexatious regulations; the public imposts were to be equally divided; no one was to be forced to do any thing contrary to reason or the well-being of society: that is to say, these writers acknowledged and established all those principles upon which were to be based the laws and customs destined one day to produce civil liberty. This is so true, that, in proportion as circumstances permitted, these principles were rapidly and extensively developed; vast and numerous applications were immediately made of them; and civil liberty took such deep root among the people of modern Europe, that it has never been erased from their bosoms; and we see it preserved in forms of absolute government as well as in the mixed forms.
To complete my demonstration, that the ideas in favor of the people proceeded from Christianity, I will adduce a reason which appears to me decisive. The philosophy adopted by the schools of that period was that of Aristotle. Aristotle's authority was of great weight; he was called by an autonomasia, the Philosopher; a good commentary of his works was considered the highest point to be attained in these matters. And yet, so far as the relations of society were concerned, the doctrines of the Stagyrite were not adopted; Christian writers took a higher and more generous view of mankind. Aristotle's degrading doctrines upon man born to servitude, destined to this end even by nature, anterior to all legislation; his horrible doctrines upon infanticide; his theories, which at one blow deprived all those who professed the mechanical arts of the title of citizen; in a word, those monstrous systems, which the ancient philosophers unconsciously learned from the society which surrounded them, were utterly rejected by Christian philosophers. The man who had just perused Aristotle's work on Politics took up his Bible, or the works of the Fathers: the authority of Aristotle was great, but that of the Church was still greater; the works of the pagan philosopher must be interpreted piously, or abandoned; in either case the rights of humanity were saved, and this was an effect of the preponderating force of the Catholic faith.
The system of castes most forcibly contributes to arrest the development of the popular element, by condemning the majority of the people of a country to a state of perpetual abjection and slavery. In this system, honors, riches, and command are confined and transferred from father to son; a barrier separates men from each other, and ends in causing the most powerful to be considered as belonging to a superior class of beings. The Church has ever opposed the introduction of so fatal a system, and to apply the word caste to the clergy would betray an ignorance of its meaning. On this subject M. Guizot has done ample justice to the cause of truth. He expresses himself in the following manner in the fifth lecture of his Histoire générale de la Civilisation en Europe: "With regard to the mode of formation and transmission of power in the Church, there is a word," says he, "much used in speaking of the Christian clergy, and which I am under the obligation of discarding; it is the word caste. The body of ecclesiastical magistrates has often been called a caste. This expression is not correct; the idea of heirship is inherent in that of caste. Travel over the world; take all those countries in which the system of castes exists, in India, in Egypt, you will find everywhere the caste essentially hereditary; it is the transmission of the same situation, of the same power, from father to son. Where heirship does not exist, there is no caste, there is a corporation; the spirit of corporate bodies has its inconveniences, but it is very different from that of castes. The word caste cannot be applied to the Christian Church. The celibacy of the clergy has prevented them from becoming a caste. You perceive already the consequences of this difference. A system of caste, and the existence of hereditary succession, inevitably involve the idea of privileges. The very definition of a caste implies privileges. When the same functions, the same powers, become hereditary in the same families, it is evident that privileges follow, and that no one can acquire such functions and powers unless he is born to them. This, in fact, is what has taken place: wherever religious government has fallen into the hands of a caste, it has become a privilege; no one has been permitted to enter it but the members of families belonging to the caste. Nothing of this has ever occurred in the Christian Church; on the contrary, she has ever maintained the equal admissibility of all men, whatever their origin, to all her functions, to all her dignities. The ecclesiastical state, particularly from the fifth to the twelfth century, was open to all. The Church was recruited from all ranks, from the inferior as well as from the superior, – more commonly even from the inferior. She alone resisted the system of castes; she alone maintained the principle of equality of competition; she alone called all legitimate superiors to the possession of power. This is the first grand result naturally produced by the fact that she was a corporation, and not a caste."
This splendid passage of the French writer completely vindicates the Catholic Church from the reproach of exclusiveness with which it had been attempted to stain her; it presents to me also the opportunity of making some reflections upon the beneficial effects of Catholicity upon the development of civilization in favor of the plebeian classes. We are not ignorant of the numerous declamations against religious celibacy which have proceeded from the mouths of the pretended defenders of the rights of humanity; but is it not strange that they forget, as M. Guizot justly observes, that celibacy is exactly what has prevented the Christian clergy from becoming a caste? Let us examine, in fact, what would have been the case on the contrary supposition. At the time to which we refer, the ascendency of religious power was unlimited, and the wealth of the Church considerable; that is to say, she possessed every thing necessary for enabling a caste to establish its preponderance and stability. What further was needful, therefore? Hereditary succession, nothing more; and this would have been established by the marriage of the clergy. What I here affirm is no vain conjecture, it is a positive fact, which I can render evident by bringing forward historical proof. From certain remarkable regulations in ecclesiastical legislation, we learn that it required all the energy of pontifical authority to prevent this succession from being introduced. Every thing, in fine, tended to such an end; and if the Church preserved itself from such a calamity, it was owing to the horror which she always entertained of this fatal custom. Read the 17th chapter of the first book of the Decretals of Gregory IX.; the pontifical regulations therein contained prove that the evil here spoken of presented alarming symptoms. The pope makes use of the strongest terms possible to be found: "Ad enormitatem istam eradicandam," "observato Apostolici rescripti decreto quod successionem in Ecclesia Dei hereditariam detestatur." "Ad extirpandas successiones a sanctis Dei Ecclesiis studio totius sollicitudinis debemus intendere." "Quia igitur in Ecclesia successiones, et in prælaturis et dignitatibus ecclesiasticis statutis canonicis damnantur." These expressions, and others of a like nature, clearly show that the danger was already considered serious, and justify the prudence of the Holy See in reserving to itself the exclusive right of granting dispensations on this point.
It required the continual vigilance of the pontifical authority to prevent this abuse from making daily progress, for it was urged on by the most powerful feelings of nature. Four centuries had elapsed since these measures had been taken, and yet we find that, in 1533, Pope Clement VII. was obliged to restrict a canon of Alexander III. in order to prevent grave scandals, grievously lamented by the pious Pontiff. Suppose that the Church had not opposed such an abuse with all her force, and that the custom had become general; bear in mind also, that in those ages of the grossest ignorance, the privileged classes were every thing, and the people had scarcely a civil existence; and see whether there would not have been formed an ecclesiastical caste along with that of the nobility, and whether both, united by the bonds of family and common interest, would not have opposed an invincible obstacle to the ulterior development of the plebeian class, plunging European society into that degradation in which Asiatic society now exists. Such would have been the consequence of the marriage of the clergy, if the pretended reform had been realized a few centuries sooner. When it came, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, it found European society in a great measure formed; it had to contend against an adult, who could not easily be made to forget his ideas and change his habits. What has actually taken place may lead us to infer what would have taken place. In England, a close alliance was formed between the lay aristocracy and the Protestant clergy; and what is very remarkable, we have seen, and we still see, in that country, something resembling castes, with the modifications which must necessarily ensue from the great development of a certain kind of civilization and liberty at which Great Britain has arrived.
If the clergy in the middle age, establishing their perpetuity by hereditary succession, had constituted themselves an exclusive class, would not the aristocratic alliance of which we are speaking have been a natural consequence? And who would thenceforth have been able to break this alliance? The enemies of the Church interpret all her discipline, and even some of her dogmas, by imputing to her ulterior designs; and hence they consider the law of celibacy as the result of an interested design. It was easy to see, however, that if the Church had entertained worldly views, she might have selected as a model those priests of other religions who have formed a separate, preponderating, and exclusive class, for which the severity of duty did not form a brazen wall against the enjoyments of nature. Europe, it will be objected, is not Asia. This is true; but the Europe of our days, and even that of the sixteenth century, is no longer the Europe of the middle ages. In those centuries, in which none but the clergy could read and write, and in which knowledge was exclusively in their possession, had they wished to plunge the world into darkness, they had only to extinguish the torch with which they were enlightening it. It is also very certain, that celibacy has given to the clergy a moral force and ascendency which they could not have attained by any other means. But this only proves that the Church has preferred moral to physical power, and that the spirit of her institutions is to act by exercising a direct influence upon the intelligence and heart of man. Now, is it not eminently praiseworthy to use all possible moral means for the direction of mankind? Is it not an honor to the Catholic clergy to have accomplished, by institutions severe against themselves, what they might have realized in part by systems indulgent to their own passions and degrading to others? Oh, we see here the work of Him who will remain with His Church till the end of the world.
Whatever may be the value of these reflections, it cannot be contested, that where Christianity has not existed, the people have been the victims of a small number, whose contempt and insults have been the only recompense of their labors. Consult history and experience; the fact is general and constant; there is not an exception even in those ancient republics so vaunted for their liberty. Under liberal forms, slavery existed; a slavery properly so called for some men; a slavery glossed over with fine appearances for that turbulent multitude who served the caprice of the Tribunes, and believed they were exercising their sublime rights by condemning to ostracism or to death the most virtuous citizens. It has sometimes happened that, among the Christians, appearances were not in favor of liberty, but things were so in reality, if we understand by the word liberty the empire of just laws, aiming at the well-being of the multitude, and founded upon the consideration and profound respect due to the rights of mankind. Observe the grand phases of European society at the time when Catholicity exclusively predominated. With various forms, distinct origins, different inclinations, they all follow the same course; all tend to favor the cause of the multitude; whatever has this for its aim, endures; whatever has not, perishes. Whence comes it that this was not the case in other countries? If evident reasons and palpable facts, moreover, did not manifest the salutary influence of the religion of Jesus Christ, so remarkable a coincidence would suffice to suggest grave reflections to those, who meditate upon the cause and character of the events which change or modify the destiny of mankind. Let those who represent Catholicity as the enemy of the people, point out to us a single doctrine of the Church sanctioning the abuses under which the people were suffering, or the injustice which oppressed them. Let them show us whether, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, when Europe was under the exclusive domination of the Catholic religion, the people were not as far advanced as they could be, considering the ordinary course of things. They certainly did not possess so much wealth as they have since acquired, and their knowledge was not so extensive as in modern times; but is the progress which has been made in this respect attributable to Protestantism? Was not the sixteenth century commenced under more favorable auspices than the fifteenth, and the latter under better auspices than the fourteenth? This proves that Europe, under the shield of Catholicity, continued in a progressive march; that the cause of the multitude suffered no prejudice from the influence of Catholicity; and that if great ameliorations have since been effected, they have not been a consequence of what is called the Reformation.
It is the development of industry and commerce that has most powerfully contributed to elevate modern democracy, by diminishing the preponderance of the aristocratic classes. I do not touch upon the events which took place in Europe before the appearance of Protestantism; but I see at a glance that, far from impeding such a movement, Catholic doctrines and institutions must have favored it, since, under their shield and protection, the manufacturing and mercantile interests were surprisingly developed. No one is ignorant of their astonishing success in Spain: and we cannot attribute this progress to the Moors; for Catalonia, subject exclusively to the Catholic influence, evinced such activity, prosperity, and intelligence in industry and commerce, that we could scarcely believe to what a state of perfection they had arrived, did not unexceptionable documents bear ample testimony to the fact. Read the Historical Memoirs of the Marine, Commerce, and Arts of the ancient City of Barcelona, by our celebrated Capmany. May we not account it an honor to belong to this Catalonian nation, whose ancestors displayed such zeal in all things, never allowing other nations to surpass them in the march of civilization and improvement? Whilst this phenomenon was advancing in the south of Europe, the association of the Hanseatic towns, the origin of which is lost in the centuries of the middle ages, was created in the north. It obtained in time such an amount of power as to measure its force with that of kings. Its rich factories, established all over Europe, and favored with many advantageous privileges, elevated it to the rank of a real power. Not satisfied with the power which it enjoyed in its own country, and in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, it extended it to England and Russia. London and Novogorod admired the splendid establishments of those intrepid merchants, who, by means of their wealth, obtained exorbitant privileges; who had their own magistrates, and formed an independent state in the centre of foreign countries.
It is very remarkable that the Hanseatic league selected religious communities as their model, in all that concerned the system of life of the clerks in their counting-houses. Their clerks ate in common, had common dormitories, and none of them were allowed to marry. Any one of them transgressing this law, forfeited his rights to remain a member or a citizen of the Hanseatic Confederation. In France, the manufacturing classes were also organized, the better to resist the elements of dissolution existing in their bosom; and this change, so fruitful in results, is entirely due to a king venerated upon the altars of the Catholic Church. The Establishment for the Trades of Paris gave a powerful impetus to the industrial classes, by augmenting their intelligence and improving their morals; and whatever were the abuses that crept into that organization, it cannot be denied that St. Louis satisfactorily supplied a great want, by organizing the trades in the best manner possible, considering how little progress had at that time been made. What shall we say of Italy, containing within its bosom the powerful republics of Venice, Florence, Genoa, and Pisa? It is difficult to conceive what progress industry had made in this peninsula, and, as a natural consequence, what a development the democratical element received. Had the influence in itself been so oppressive, had the breath of the Roman court been fatal to the progress of the people, is it not evident that its effects would have been particularly felt in those countries which were the scene of its actions? Whence comes it, then, that whilst a great part of Europe was groaning under feudal oppression, the middle class, whose only title to nobility was the fruit of their intelligence and labor, appeared in Italy so powerful, so brilliant and flourishing? I will not contend that this development was attributable to the Popes; but, at least, we must grant that they never opposed it.
Now, if we observe a similar phenomenon in Spain, and particularly in Aragon, where the Pontifical influence was great; if the same thing is observable in the north of Europe, inhabited by people whom Catholicity alone has civilized; if, in fine, the same phenomenon is realized, with greater or less rapidity, in all countries exclusively subject to the belief and authority of the Church, we may conclude that Catholicity contains nothing opposed to the movement of civilization, and that it is not opposed to a just and legitimate development of the popular element.
I cannot think how it is possible for any one who has read history to accord to Protestantism the honor of being favorable to the interests of the multitude. Its origin was essentially aristocratic; and in those countries in which it has succeeded in taking root, it has established aristocracy upon such firm foundations, that the revolutions of three centuries have not been able to overturn it. Witness, for a proof of this, what has taken place in Germany, England, and all the north of Europe. It has been said that Calvinism is more favorable to the democratical element; and that if it had prevailed in France it would have established a system of federative republic in place of monarchy. Whatever may be the value of this conjecture upon a change which would certainly not have been very beneficial to the future prospects of that nation, it is perfectly certain that no other system than that of aristocracy would have been found practicable in France; for circumstances at that period would admit of nothing else; and the aristocrats who were at the head of religious innovation, would admit of no other organization. Had Protestantism triumphed in France, it is probable that the poor of that country, in imitation of their brethren in Germany, would have claimed a share in the rich booty; but they certainly would not have found Calvin's proverbial harshness more advantageous to them than the furious rashness of Luther was to the Germans. It is probable that these wretched villagers, who, according to contemporary writers, had nothing to eat but rye-bread, with no animal food, and slept upon a bundle of straw, with a board for their pillow, would not have felt themselves more comfortable than their brethren in Germany, had they thought proper to participate in the effects of the new doctrines. In this case, they would not have been punished, but exterminated, like their brethren beyond the Rhine. In England, the sudden disappearance of the monasteries produced pauperism. Their property having fallen into the hands of laymen, the religious being driven from their abodes, the poor who subsisted upon the alms of these holy establishments were left without the means of subsistence. And observe, that the evil was not temporary; it has continued to our own days, and is now one of the greatest evils afflicting Great Britain. I am aware that almsgiving is said to encourage indolence; but it is very certain that England, with her poor-laws and her legal charity, contains a far greater number of destitute poor than Catholic countries. It will be difficult to convince me, that to let people die of hunger is a good means of developing the popular element. Protestantism must have contained something very repulsive to the democrats of that period, since we find it rejected in Spain and Italy, the two countries in which the people enjoyed the greatest share of prosperity and rights. And this becomes still more worthy of attention, when we remark that religious innovation took root wherever the feudal aristocracy predominated. Look, it will be said, at the United Provinces; but this example only proves that Protestantism, determined to find supporters, willingly took part with the mal-contents. If Philip II. had been a zealous Protestant, the United Provinces would probably have alleged that they were unwilling to remain any longer subject to an heretical prince. These provinces were for a long time under the exclusive influence of Catholicity, and yet they were prosperous; the popular element was developed in their bosom, without meeting any obstacle on the part of religion. Exactly at the beginning of the sixteenth century they made the discovery, that they could no longer prosper without abjuring the faith of their ancestors. Observe the geographical position of the United Provinces; see them surrounded by reformists offering to assist them; and you will find in political considerations the reason which you may seek in vain in imaginary affinity between the Protestant system and the interests of the people.35