If Christianity, in the midst of this catastrophe, had not existed in Europe, civilization would have been lost and annihilated, perhaps forever. But a religion of light and love was sure to triumph over ignorance and violence. Even during the times of the calamities of the invasion, that religion prevented many disasters, owing to the ascendency which it began to exercise over the barbarians; the most critical moment being past, the conquerors having become in some degree settled, she immediately employed a system so vast, so efficacious, so decisive, that the conquerors found themselves conquered, not by arms, but by charity. It was not in the power of the Church to prevent the invasion; God had decreed it, and His decree must be accomplished. Thus the pious monk who went to meet Alaric approaching Rome, could not stop him on his march, because the barbarian answered him, that he could not stop, – that there was some one who urged him on, and that he advanced against his own will. But the Church awaited the barbarians after the conquest, knowing that Providence would not abandon His own work, that the hope of the future lot of nations was left in the hands of the spouse of Jesus Christ; on this account does Alaric advance on Rome, sack, and destroy it; but on a sudden, finding himself in presence of religion, he stops, becomes mollified, and appoints the Churches of St. Peter and St. Paul as places of refuge. A remarkable fact, and an admirable symbol of the Christian religion preserving the universe from total ruin.
Note 19, p. 165
The great benefit conferred on modern society by the formation of a pure and correct public conscience, would acquire extraordinary value in our eyes, if we compared our moral ideas with those of all other nations, ancient and modern; the result of such an examination would be, to show in how lamentable a manner good principles become corrupted, when they are confided to the reason of man. I will content myself, however, with a few words on the ancients, in order to show how correct I was in saying that our manners, however corrupt they may be, would have appeared a model of morality and dignity to the heathens.
The temples consecrated to Venus in Babylon and Corinth are connected with abominations such as to be even incomprehensible. Deified passion required sacrifices worthy of it; a divinity without modesty required the sacrifice of modesty; and the sacred name of Temple was applied to asylums of the most unbridled licentiousness. There was not a veil even for the greatest crimes. It is known how the daughters of Chypre gained a dowry for their marriage; all have heard of the mysteries of Adonis, Priapus, and other impure divinities. There are vices which, as it were, want a name among the moderns; or if they have one, it is accompanied by the recollection of a terrible chastisement inflicted on some criminal cities. In reading the histories of antiquity descriptive of the manners of their times, the book falls from our hands. On this subject we must be content with these few hints, calculated to awaken in the minds of our readers the recollection of what has a thousand times excited their indignation in reading the history and studying the literature of pagan antiquity. The author is compelled to be satisfied with a recollection: he abstains from a description.
Note 20, p. 171
It is now so common to exalt beyond measure the power of ideas, that some persons will perhaps consider exaggerated what I have said with respect to their want of power, not only to influence society, but even to preserve themselves, while, remaining in the mere sphere of ideas, they do not become realized in institutions, which are their organ, and at the same time their rampart and defence.
I am very far, as I have clearly stated in the text, from denying or calling in question what is called the power of ideas: I only mean to show that, alone and by themselves, ideas have little power; and that science, properly so called, as far as the organization of society is concerned, is a much less important thing than is generally supposed. This doctrine has an intimate connection with the system followed by the Catholic Church, which, while constantly endeavoring to develop the human mind by means of the propagation of the sciences, has nevertheless assigned to them a secondary part in the regulation of society. While religion has never been opposed to true science, never, on the other hand, has she ceased to show a certain degree of mistrust with respect to all that was the exclusive production of human thought; and observe that this is one of the chief differences between religion and the philosophy of the last age; or, we should rather say, it was the cause of their violent antipathy. Religion did not condemn science; on the contrary, she loved, protected, and encouraged it; but at the same time she marked out its limits, warned it that it was blind on some points, announced to it that it would be powerless in some of its labors, and that in others its action would be destructive and fatal. Philosophy, on the contrary, loudly proclaimed the sovereignty of science, declared it to be all-powerful, and deified it; it attributed to it strength and courage to change the face of the world, and wisdom and foresight enough to work this change for the good of humanity. This pride of knowledge, this deification of thought, is, if you observe closely, the foundation of Protestant doctrine. All authority being taken away, reason is the only competent judge, the intellect receives directly and immediately from God all the light which is necessary. This is the fundamental doctrine of Protestantism, that is to say, the pride of the mind.
If we closely observe, even the triumph of revolutions has in no degree nullified the wise anticipations of religion; and knowledge, properly so called, instead of gaining any credit from this triumph, has entirely lost what it had: there remains nothing of the revolutionary knowledge; what remains is the effects of the revolution, the interests created by it, the institutions which have arisen from those interests, and which, since that time, have sought in the department of science itself our principles to support them, – principles altogether different from those which had been proclaimed in the beginning.
I have said that every idea has need of being realized in an institution; this is so true, that revolutions themselves, warned by the instinct which leads them to preserve, with more or less integrity, the principles whence they have arisen, tend from the first to create those institutions in which the revolutionary doctrines may be perpetuated, or to constitute successors to represent them when they shall have disappeared from the schools. This may lead to many reflections on the origin and present condition of several forms of governments in different countries of Europe.
When speaking of the rapidity with which scientific theories succeed each other, when pointing out the immense development which the press has given to the field of discussion, I have shown that this was not an infallible sign of scientific progress, still less a guarantee for the fertility of human thought in realizing great things in the material and social order. I have said that grand conceptions proceed rather from intuition than from discourses; and on this subject I have recalled to mind historical events and personages which place this matter beyond a doubt. In support of this assertion, ideology might have furnished us with abundant proofs, if it were necessary to have recourse to science itself to prove its own sterility. But mere good sense, taught by the lessons of experience daily, is enough to convince us that the men who are the most able in theory are, often enough, not only mediocre, but even weak in the exercise of authority. With regard to the hints which I have thrown out with respect to "intuition" and "discourses," I leave them to the judgment of any one who has applied to the study of the human mind. I am confident that the opinion of those who have reflected will not differ from my own.
Note 21, p. 175
I have attributed to Christianity the gentleness of manners which Europe now enjoys. Yet, in spite of the decline of religious belief in the last century, this gentleness of manners, instead of being destroyed, has only been raised to a higher degree. This contrast, the effect of which, at first sight, is to destroy what I have established, requires some explanation. First of all, we must recollect the distinction pointed out in the text between effeminacy and gentleness of manners. The first is a fault, the second a valuable quality; the first emanates from enervation of the mind and weakening of the body; the second is owing to the preponderance of reason, the empire of the mind over the body, the triumph of justice over force, of right over might. There is a large portion of real gentleness in manners at the present day, but luxury has also a considerable part therein. This luxury of manners has certainly not arisen from religion, but from infidelity; the latter, never extending its view beyond the present life, causes the lofty destinies, and even the very existence of the soul, to be forgotten, puts egotism upon the throne, constantly excites and keeps alive the love of pleasure, and makes man the vile slave of his passions. On the contrary, at the first sight, we perceive that our manners owe all their gentleness to Christianity; all the ideas, all the feelings, on which this gentleness is founded, bear the mark of Christianity. The dignity of man, his rights, the obligation of treating him with the respect which is due to him, and of appealing to his mind by reason rather than to his body by violence, the necessity imposed on every one of keeping within the line of his duty, of respecting the property and the persons of others, – all this body of principles, to which real gentleness of manners is owing, is due, in Europe, to the influence of Christianity, which, after a struggle of many centuries against the barbarism and ferocity of invading nations, succeeded in destroying the system of violence which these same nations had made general.
As philosophy has taken care to change the ancient names consecrated by religion, and authorized by the usage of a succession of ages, it happens that some ideas, although the produce of Christianity, are scarcely acknowledged as such, only because they are disguised under a worldly dress. Who does not know that mutual love among men and fraternal charity are ideas entirely due to Christianity? Who does not know that pagan antiquity did not acknowledge them, that it even despised them? And nevertheless, this affection, which was formerly called charity, because charity was the virtue from which it took its legitimate origin, has constantly taken care to assume other names, as if it were ashamed to be seen in public with any appearance of religion. The mania for attacking the Christian religion being passed, it is openly confessed that the principle of universal charity is owing to her; but language remains infected with Voltairian philosophy even since the discredit into which that philosophy has fallen. Whence it follows, that we very often do not appreciate as we ought the influence of Christianity on the society which surrounds us, and that we attribute to other ideas and other causes the phenomena which are evidently owing to religion. Society at present, in spite of all its indifference, is more indebted to religion than is commonly supposed; it resembles those men, who, born of an illustrious family, in which good principles and a careful education are transmitted as an inheritance from generation to generation, preserve in their manners and behavior, even in the midst of their disorders, their crimes, and I will even venture to say, their degradation, some traits which denote their noble origin.
Note 22, p. 183
A few regulations of Councils, quoted in the text, are sufficient to give an idea of the system pursued by the Church for the purpose of reforming and softening manners. It may be remarked that, on previous occasions during this work, I have a strong inclination to call to mind monuments of this kind; I will state here that I have two reasons for doing this: 1. When having to compare Protestantism with Catholicity, I believe that the best means of representing the real spirit of the latter is, to show it at work; this is done when we bring to light the measures which were adopted, according to different circumstances, by Popes and Councils. 2. Considering the direction which historical studies take in Europe, and the taste, which is daily becoming more general, not for histories, but for historical documents, it is proper always to bear in mind that the proceedings of Councils are of the highest importance, not only in historical and ecclesiastical matters, but also in political and social ones; so that to pay no attention to the data which are found in the records of Councils, is monstrously to mutilate, or rather wholly to destroy, the history of Europe.
On this account it is very useful, and even necessary in many things, to consult these records, although it may be painful to our indolence, on account of their enormous extent and the ennui of finding many things devoid of interest for our times. The sciences, above all those which have society for their object, lead to satisfactory results only by means of painful labors. What is useful is frequently mixed and confounded with what is not. The most valuable things are sometimes found by the side of repulsive objects; but in nature, do we find gold without having removed rude masses of earth?
Those who have attempted to find the germ of the precious qualities of European civilization among the barbarians of the north, should undoubtedly have attributed the gentleness of our manners to the same barbarians; they would have had in support of this paradox a fact certainly more specious than that which they have relied on to give the honor of elevating European women to the Germans. I allude to the well-known custom of avoiding the infliction of corporal punishments, and of chastising the gravest offences by fines only. Nothing is more likely to make us believe that these nations were happily inclined to gentleness of manners, since, in the midst of their barbarism, they used the right of punishment with a moderation which is not found even among the most civilized and refined nations. If we regard the thing in this point of view, it seems as if the influence of Christianity on the barbarians had the effect of rendering their manners more harsh instead of more gentle; indeed, after Christianity was introduced, the infliction of corporal punishments became general, and even that of death was not excluded.
But when we attentively consider this peculiarity of the criminal code of the barbarians, we shall see that, far from showing the advancement of their civilization and the gentleness of their manners, it is, on the contrary, the most evident proof that they were behindhand; it is the strongest index of the harshness and barbarism which reigned among them. In the first place, inasmuch as crimes among them were punished by means of fines, or, as it was called, by composition, it is clear that the law paid much more attention to repairing an injury than to punishing a crime; a circumstance which clearly shows us how little they thought about the morality of the action, as they attended not so much to the action itself, as to the wrong which it inflicted. Therefore this was not an element of civilization but of barbarism; this tended to nothing less than the banishment of morality from the world. The Church combated this principle, as fatal in public as in private affairs; she introduced into criminal legislation a new set of ideas, which completely changed its spirit. On this point M. Guizot has done full justice to the Catholic Church. I am delighted to acknowledge and to insert this homage here by transcribing his own words. After having pointed out the difference which existed between the laws of the Visigoths, derived in great part from the Councils of Toledo, and the other barbarian laws, M. Guizot signalizes the immense superiority of the ideas of the Church in matters of legislation, of justice, and in all that concerns the search after truth and the lot of men; he adds: "In criminal matters, the relation of crimes to punishments is fixed (in the laws of the Visigoths) according to sufficiently just, philosophical, and moral notions. We there perceive the efforts of an enlightened legislator, who contends against the violence and rashness of barbarian manners. The chapter De cæde et morte hominum, compared with the corresponding laws of other nations, is a very remarkable example of this. Elsewhere, it is almost exclusively the injury which seems to constitute the crime, and the punishment is sought in that material reparation which is the result of composition. Here, the crime is referred to its real and moral element, the intention. The different shades of criminality, absolutely voluntary homicide, homicide by inadvertence, provoked homicide, homicide with or without premeditation, are distinguished and defined almost as well as in our own codes, and the punishments vary in a proportion equally just. The justice of the legislator has gone still further. He has attempted, if not to abolish, at least to diminish the diversity of legal value established among men by the other barbarian laws. The only distinction which it preserves is that of freeman and slave. With respect to freeman, the punishment varies neither with the origin nor the rank of the deceased, but only according to the different degrees of the culpability of the murderer. With regard to slaves, not venturing completely to withdraw from the masters the right of life and death, it has been attempted at least to restrain it by subjecting it to a public and regular procedure. The text of the law deserves to be cited.
"'If no one guilty of, or an accomplice in, a crime ought to remain unpunished, with how much more reason ought he to be condemned who has wickedly and rashly committed a homicide! Thus, as masters, in their pride, often put their slaves to death without any fault of the latter, it is proper altogether to extirpate this license, and to ordain that the present law shall be forever observed by all. No master or mistress shall put to death, without public trial, any of their slaves, male or female, or any person dependent on them. If a slave or any other servant shall commit a crime which may subject him to capital punishment, his master or his accuser shall immediately inform the judge or the count or duke of the place where the deed has been committed. After the affair has been inquired into, if the crime be proved, let the criminal undergo, either by the judge or his own master, the sentence of death which he has deserved; so that, nevertheless, if the judge be unwilling to put the accused to death, he shall draw up in writing a capital sentence, and then it shall be in the power of the master to put him to death or not. Indeed, if the slave, with a fatal audacity, resisting his master, has struck, or attempted to strike, him with a weapon, with a stone, or with any other kind of blow, and if the master, in defending himself, has killed the slave in his passion, the master shall be in no way subject to the punishment of homicide. But it shall be necessary to prove that the event took place thus, and that by the testimony or oath of the slaves, male or female, who shall have been present, and by the oath of the author of the deed himself. Whoever from mere malice, either by his own hand or that of another, shall have killed his slave without public trial, shall be marked with infamy, declared incapable of appearing as a witness, shall be obliged to pass the rest of his life in exile and penance, and his goods shall go to the nearest relations to whom they are given by the law.' – For. Jud. liv. vi. tit. xv. l. 12." (Hist. Génér. de la Civilisation en Europe, leçon 6.)
I have copied this passage from M. Guizot with pleasure, because I find there a confirmation of what I have just said on the subject of the influence of the Church in softening manners, and of what I have before stated with respect to the great amelioration which the Church made in the condition of slaves, by limiting the excessive power of their masters. This truth is proved in its place by so many documents, that it seems useless to revert to it here; it is enough now for my purpose, to point out that M. Guizot fully allows that the Church gave morality to the legislation of the barbarians, by making them consider the wickedness of the crime, whereas they had previously attended only to the injury of which it was the cause; she has thus transferred the action from the physical to the moral order, giving to punishments their real character, and not allowing them to remain reduced to the level of a mere material reparation. Hence we see that the criminal system of the barbarians, which, at the first view, seemed to indicate progress in civilization, was, in reality, owing to the little ascendency which moral principles exercised over these nations, and to the fact, that the views of the legislator were very slightly raised above the purely material order.
There is another observation to be made on this point, viz. that the mildness with which crimes were punished is the best proof of the frequency with which they were committed. When in a country assassinations, mutilations, and other similar attempts are very rare, they are regarded with horror; those who are guilty of them are chastised with severity. But when crimes are very frequently committed, they insensibly lose their enormity; not only those who commit them, but all the world become accustomed to their hideous aspect, and the legislator is then naturally induced to treat them with indulgence. This is shown us by the experience of every day; and the reader will have no difficulty in finding in society at the present time more than one crime to which the remark which I have just made is applicable. Among the barbarians, it was common to appeal to force, not only with respect to property, but also to persons; wherefore it was natural that crimes of this kind should not be regarded by them with the same aversion, it may be said with the same horror, as among a people where the triumph of the ideas of reason, justice, right, and law, render it impossible to conceive even the existence of a society where each individual should believe himself self-entitled to do justice to himself. Thus the laws against these crimes naturally became milder, the legislator contenting himself with repairing the injury, without paying much attention to the culpability of the delinquent. And this is intimately connected with what I have said above with respect to public conscience; for the legislator is always more or less the organ of this public conscience. Where an action, in any society whatever, is regarded as a heinous offence, the legislator cannot decree a mild punishment for it; on the other hand, it is not possible for him to chastise with great severity what the society absolves or excuses. It will sometimes happen that this proportion will be altered, that this harmony will be destroyed; but things soon quitting the path into which violence forced them, will not be long in returning to their ordinary course. Manners being chaste and pure, offences against them will be covered with abhorrence and infamy; but if morals be corrupted, the same acts will be regarded with indifference; at the most they will be denominated slight weaknesses. Among a people where religious ideas exercise great influence, the violation of all that is consecrated to God is regarded as a horrible outrage, worthy of the greatest chastisements; among another people, where infidelity has made its ravages, the same violation is not even placed on the list of ordinary offences; instead of drawing on the guilty the justice of the law, scarcely does it draw on them the slight correction of the police. The reader will understand the appropriateness of this digression on the criminal legislation of the barbarians, when he reflects that, in order to examine the influence of Catholicity on the civilization of Europe, it is indispensable to take into consideration the other elements which have concurred in forming that civilization. Without this, it would be impossible properly to appreciate the respective action of each of these elements, either for good or evil; impossible to bring to light the share which the Church can exclusively claim in the great work of our civilization; impossible to resolve the high question which has been raised by the partisans of Protestantism on the subject of the assumed advantages which the religious revolution of the sixteenth century has conferred on modern society. It is because the barbarian nations are one of these elements, that it is so often necessary to attend to them.
Note 23, p. 189
In the middle ages, almost all the monasteries and colleges of canons had a hospital annexed to them, not only to receive pilgrims, but also to aid in the support and consolation of the poor and the sick. If you desire to see the noblest symbol of religion sheltering all kinds of misfortune, consider the houses devoted to prayer and the most sublime virtues converted into asylums for the miserable. This was exactly what took place at that time, when the public authority not only wanted the strength and knowledge necessary to establish a good administration for the relief of the unfortunate, but did not even succeed in covering with her ægis the most sacred interests of society; this shows us that when all was powerless, religion was still strong and fruitful; that when all perished, religion not only preserved herself, but even founded immortal establishments. And pay attention to what we have so many times pointed out, viz. that the religion which worked these prodigies was not a vague and abstract religion – the Christianity of the Protestants; but religion with all her dogmas, her discipline, her hierarchy, her supreme Pontiff, in a word, the Catholic Church.
They were far from thinking in ancient times that the support of the unfortunate could be confided to the civil administration alone, or to individual charity; it was then thought, as I have already said, that it was a very proper thing that the hospitals should be subjected to the Bishops; that is to say, that there should be a kind of assimilation made between the system of public beneficence and the hierarchy of the Church. Hence it was that, by virtue of an ancient regulation, the hospitals were under the control of the Bishops as well in temporals as in spirituals, whether the persons appointed to the care of the establishments were clerical or lay, whether the hospital had been erected by order of the Bishop or not.
This is not the place to relate the vicissitudes which this discipline underwent, nor the different causes which produced the successive changes; it is enough to observe, that the fundamental principle, that is, the interference of the ecclesiastical authority in establishments of beneficence, always remained unimpaired, and that the Church never allowed herself to be entirely deprived of so noble a privilege. Never did she think that it was allowable for her to regard with indifference the abuses which were introduced on this point to the prejudice of the unfortunate; wherefore she has reserved at least the right to remedy the evils which might result from the wickedness or the indolence of the administrators. The Council of Vienne ordains, that if the administrators of a hospital, lay or clerical, become relaxed in the exercise of their charge, proceedings shall be taken against them by the Bishops, who shall reform and restore the hospital of their own authority, if it has no privilege of exemption, and by delegation, if it has one. The Council of Trent also granted to Bishops the power of visiting the hospitals, even with the power of delegates of the Apostolic See in the cases fixed by law; it ordains, moreover, that the administrators, lay or clerical, shall be obliged every year to render their accounts to the ordinary of the place, unless the contrary has been provided in the foundation; and that if, by virtue of a particular privilege, custom, or statute, the accounts must be presented to any other than the ordinary, at least he shall be added to those who are appointed to receive them.
Without paying attention to the different modifications which the laws and customs of various countries may have introduced in this matter, we will say that one thing remains manifest, viz. the vigilance of the Church in all that regards beneficence; it is her constant tendency, by virtue of her spirit and maxims, to take part in affairs of this kind, sometimes to direct them exclusively, sometimes to remedy the evils which may have crept in. The civil power acknowledged the motives of this holy and charitable ambition; we see that the Emperor Justinian does not hesitate to give public authority over the hospitals to the Bishops, thereby conforming to the discipline of the Church and the general good.
On this point there is a remarkable fact, which it is necessary to mention here, in order to signalize its beneficent influence; I mean, the regulation by which the property of hospitals was looked upon as Church property, – a regulation which was very far from being a matter of indifference, although at first sight it might appear so. Their property, thereby invested with the same privileges as that of the Church, was protected by an inviolability so much the more necessary as the times were the more difficult, and the more abounding in outrages and usurpations. The Church which, notwithstanding all the public troubles, preserved great authority and a powerful ascendency over governments and nations, had thus a simple and powerful claim to extend her protection over the property of hospitals, and to withdraw them as much as possible from the cupidity and the rapacity of the powerful. And it must not be supposed that this doctrine was introduced with any indirect design, nor that this kind of community, this assimilation between the Church and the poor, was an unheard-of novelty; on the contrary, this assimilation was so well suited to the common order of things, it was so entirely founded on the relations between the Church and the poor, that if the property of the hospitals had the privilege of being considered as the property of the Church, that of the Church, on the other hand, was called the property of the poor. It is in these terms that the holy Fathers express themselves on this point: these doctrines had so much affected the ordinary language, that when, at a later period, the canonical question with respect to the ownership of the goods of the Church had to be solved, there were found by the side of those who directly attributed this property to God, to the Pope, to the clergy, some who pointed out the poor as being the real proprietors. It is true that this opinion was not the most conformable to the principles of law; but the mere fact of its appearing on the field of controversy is a matter for grave consideration.