In his 3d chapter, of which the following is the title, "Whether the name of king necessarily implies an office," he thus expresses himself: – "Besides what we have advanced, it may be proved that the name of a king is the name of an office, by the common maxim, 'the benefice is the reward of the office.' Since, therefore, kings receive such great benefices, not only from the considerable tributes they receive from the State, but also from the advantage they derive from benefices and ecclesiastical rents, they certainly do hold an office, and that the greatest of all, for which reason the entire kingdom so bountifully assists them. This is what St. Paul says in his Epistle to the Romans: Ideo et tributa præstatis, &c. Kingdoms do not contribute for nothing; all those states, taxes, and great revenues, that name, that high authority and eminent dignity, are not given gratuitously. They would have their title of king for nothing if they had no subjects to rule and govern, and if they were freed from this obligation: In multitudine populi dignitas regis. This great dignity, wealth, rank, majesty, and honor, are possessed by them with the perpetual obligation of ruling and governing their states, so as to preserve them in peace and justice. Let kings bear in mind, therefore, that they are only invested with this title to serve their kingdoms; and the latter, that kings ought to be paid. They hold an office requiring them to labor: Qui præest in sollicitudine, says St. Paul. Such is the title and the name of king, and of him who rules: one who is the first not only as regards honors and enjoyments, but also as regards cares and solicitude. Let them not imagine that they are kings merely in name and representation, and appointed only to make themselves honored; merely to exhibit their royal person and sovereign dignity in a pompous manner, like some of the kings of the Persians and Medes, who were mere shadows of kings, forgetful of their office, as though they had never received it. Nothing is more destitute of life and substance than the shadowy image which stirs its arm or its head only when some one acts upon it. God forbade the Israelites to have statues or painted images, representing a hand where there was none, and a face that did not exist, exhibiting to the eye an imaginary body, and feigning by apparently living actions to see and to speak; for God loves not feigned images, painted men, or sculptured kings, like those spoken of by David: Os habent et non loquentur, oculos habent et non videbunt. What does it avail to have a tongue that speaks not, eyes that see not, ears that hear not, or hands which do not work? Is it any thing more than an idol of stone, bearing only the external representation of a king? To bear the supreme name and all authority, and not to be capable of any thing, sounds badly. The names which God has given to things are like the title of a book, which, in a few words, contains every thing that is included in the book. This name of king was given to kings by God himself, and contains every thing to which they are obliged by virtue of their office. If their actions are not in accordance with the name, it is as if the mouth should affirm what the head denies, like a buffoon, whom no one believes in earnest. Every one would regard as a mockery and a delusion a signboard bearing the inscription, 'Pure gold sold here,' if, in reality, nothing but tinsel was sold. The name of king should not be an empty thing, a mere superfluity in the royal person – it should be what it implies and gives itself out for. Your name indicates that you rule and govern; rule and govern, therefore, in reality. Do not be mere pasteboard kings, to use a common expression, that is, kings in name only. In France, there was a time when kings had nothing but the name, and the government was entirely in the hands of their generals, whilst they, like animals, were occupied only with gluttony and luxurious living. That it might be known they were living, for they never went out, they used to appear in public once a year, on the 1st of May, in the squares of Paris, seated on a throne, as kings in a dramatic representation, and there they were saluted, gifts were presented to them, and they, on their part, granted certain favors to whomsoever they thought proper. In order to show to what a degree of degradation they had fallen, Eginard tells us, in the beginning of his Life of Charlemagne, that they were devoid of courage and incapable of great actions; they merely held the empty name of king; for, in reality they were not kings, neither had they any participation in the government or riches of the kingdom; every thing was entrusted to the mayors of the palace, styled majors-domo of the royal household; and the latter usurped every thing to such a degree, that they left the wretched king nothing but his title. Seated on his throne, with his long hair and beard, the monarch played his part, pretending to give audiences to ambassadors arriving from all parts, and to furnish them with answers to convey to their masters; whilst in reality they merely answered according to the instructions they had received, either by word or writing, although they appeared to answer on their own responsibility. So that royal power for such a king was reduced to the mere name, to this throne and this ridiculous majesty; the real kings and masters were those favorites by whom the monarch was oppressed. God said of one of the kings of Samaria, that he was merely to be compared to a little vapor, which, seen from afar, appeared something, but when touched was no longer any thing. Simia in tecto rex fatuus in solio suo. (St. Bernard, de Consider ad Eug. cap. 7.) A monkey on a housetop, which, presenting the appearance of a man, is taken for such by those who know not what it is; such is a useless king upon a throne. Monkeys also serve to amuse children, and the king is a laughing-stock to him who looks upon him apart from any royal act, invested with authority, and making no use of it. A king dressed in purple, seated on a throne with great majesty, suited to his grandeur, grave, severe, and terrible in appearance, but in reality an absolute nonentity. Like a painting de la main du Greco, which, placed in an elevated position, and seen from a distance, looks very beautiful, and produces a great effect, but when nearly approached is but a rough sketch. All pomp and majesty, properly considered, are a mere sketch and shadow of a king. Simulacra gentium, says David, speaking of kings who have nothing but the name; and according to the Hebrew text: Imago fictilis et contrita. A figure of pounded earth, crumbling on all sides; an empty phantom, great in appearance, but a mere piece of deception. The name which Elifaz unjustly applied to Job is perfectly applicable here, when he designated this good and just king, a man void of foundation and substance, bearing only external appearances; he styled him Myrmicoleon, that is, the name of the animal which, in Latin, is called Formica-leo, because it is a monstrous conformation, one half of its body, in fact, representing a fearful lion, an animal always used as an emblem of a king, and the other half an ant, that is, a most feeble and insignificant thing. Such are the authority, the name, throne, and majesty of a fierce lion and of a powerful monarch; but as regards the essence, you will find only that of an ant. There have been kings whose very name filled the world with terror; but these kings were void of substance in themselves, in their kingdoms they were as mere ants; their names and offices were very great, but without effect. Let the king, therefore, bear in mind that he has an office to fulfill, and not only an office, but that he is obliged to speak and labor on all offices, of which he is the general superintendent. St. Augustine and St. Thomas, explaining that passage of St. Paul which treats of episcopal dignity, say, that the word bishop, in Greek, is composed of two roots signifying the same thing as superintendent. The name of bishop, king, and every other superior, are names signifying superintendence over, and co-operation with, every office. This is what is expressed by the sceptre used by kings in public acts, a ceremony used by the Egyptians, who borrowed it from the Israelites. The latter, in order to point out the duty of a good king, painted an open eye placed in an elevated position on the point of a rod in the form of a sceptre, representing, on the one hand, the great power of the king, the solicitude and vigilance which he ought to exercise; on the other, that he ought not to be satisfied with holding the supreme power, with occupying the most exalted and most eminent position, and, in possession of these, passing his life in sleep and repose; on the contrary, he should be the first in commanding and counselling, he should appear in every office, incessantly watching and inspecting, like a man doing the business in which he is engaged. Jeremiah also understands it in this sense, for when God asked him what he saw, he answered: Virgam vigilantem ego video. Thou hast seen well; and verily I tell thee, that I who am supreme, will watch over my flock; I who am a shepherd, will watch over my sheep; I who am a king and a monarch, will watch without ceasing over all my inferiors. Regem festinantem, says the Chaldean, a king who is in haste; for, although he has eyes and sees, if he remains in repose, in his pleasures and amusements, if he does not go about from place to place, if he does not act so as to become acquainted with all the good and evil that is going on in his kingdom, he is as though he did not exist. Let him consider that he is the head, and even the head of the lion, which even in its sleep keeps its eyes open; that he is the rod with eyes, that he is the torch; let him open his eyes, therefore, and sleep no longer, trusting to those who are blinded, and see no better than moles; who, if they have eyes, only employ them to see their own interest, and to distinguish at a greater distance what may conduce to their own profit and aggrandizement. Such persons have eyes for themselves, and it would be better if they had them not, for their eyes are those of birds of prey – of vultures."
In his fourth chapter, the title of which is, "On the office of kings," the author thus explains the origin of royal power and its obligations: – "From this it follows," says he, "that the institution of the state of royalty, or king, represented by the head, was not merely for the use and profit of the king himself, but for that of his whole kingdom. Hence he ought to see, hear, feel, and understand, not only by himself and for himself, but by all and for all. He ought not merely to fix his regards upon his own greatness, but on the good of his subjects, since it is for them, and not for himself, that he was born a king. Adverte, said Seneca to the Emperor Nero, rempublicam non esse tuam, sed te reipublicæ. – When men first issued from solitude, and united to live in common, they knew that every one would naturally labor for himself or his own family, and that no one would take an interest in all; they agreed to select a man of great merit, that all might have recourse to him; a man who, distinguished above all the rest by his virtue, his prudence, and courage, should be the chief over all, should govern all, watch over all, and should exert himself for the advantage of all – for the common weal – like a father for his children, or a shepherd for his sheep. Now, considering that this man, abandoning his own affairs to look after those of others, could not maintain himself and his family (every one was then maintained by the labor of his hands), it was agreed that all should contribute to his support, in order that he might not be distracted by any other occupations than those of the common weal and the public government. Such was the end for which kings were instituted – such was their beginning. The good king ought to be more solicitous for the public than for his own private interest. He possesses his grandeur at the expense of great solicitude; the anxiety, the disquietude of mind and body, which is fatigue for him, is repose, support, and protection for others. Thus smiling flowers and fruits, whilst they adorn the tree, exist not so much for the tree, nor on account of the tree, as for the sake of others. Do not imagine that all happiness is in the beauty and grace of the flower, and in those who are the flowers of the world: powerful kings and princes may be termed the flowers of the world, but flowers who consume their lives, who are full of solicitude, and whose fruit will rather contribute to the enjoyment of others than to their own. 'For,' says the Jew Philo, 'the king is to the kingdom what the wise is to the ignorant man, what the shepherd is to his sheep, the father to his children, light to darkness, and what God is upon earth to all his creatures.' The investiture he gave to Moses, when he appointed him the chief and king over his people, was to tell him that he ought to be as God, the common father of all; for the office and dignity of a king require all this. Omnium domos illius vigila defendit, omnium otium illius industria, omnium vacationem illius occupatio. (Seneca, Lib. de Consol.) This is what the prophet Samuel says to Saul, recently elected king, when he expounds to him the obligations of his office: 'Consider, Saul, that God has this day constituted thee king over all this kingdom; thou art bound by the office to govern the whole of it. Thou hast not been made a king to enjoy repose, to become proud, and to glory in the dignity of a king; but to govern thy kingdom, to maintain it in peace and justice, to defend and protect it against its enemies.' Rex eligitur, non, ut sui ipsius curam habeat, says Socrates, et sese molliter curet, sed ut per ipsum ii, qui elegerunt, bene beateque vivant. They were not created and introduced into the world for their own convenience and pleasure or to be fed upon every dainty morsel of food (if such were the case, no one would willingly submit to them); but they were appointed for the advantage and common good of all their subjects, to govern them, protect them, enrich them, preserve and serve them. All this is perfectly admissible; for although the sceptre and crown appear to be the emblems of domination, the office of a king is, strictly speaking, that of a slave. Servus communis, sive servus honoratus, are words which have sometimes been applied to a king, quia a tota republica stipendia accipit ut serviat omnibus. And the Supreme Pontiff glories in this title, Servus servorum Dei. In ancient times this name of slave was one of infamy; but since Christ bore it it has become a name full of honor. Now, since it is neither repugnant nor derogatory to the essence nor nature of the Son of God, neither can it be derogatory to the nature and grandeur of the king.
"Antigonus, king of Macedon, was perfectly aware of this, and said candidly to his son, when he rebuked him for the severity with which he governed his subjects: An ignoras, fili mi, regnum nostrum nobilem esse servitutem? Before his time Agamemnon expressed himself in the same manner: 'We live apparently in the midst of grandeur and exaltation; but in reality we are the servants and slaves of our subjects.' Such is the office of good kings – an honorable servitude. From the moment of their being created kings, their actions no longer depend upon their own will, but on the laws and rules which have been given them, and on the conditions upon which they have undertaken their office. And although they may fail to comply with these conditions (which are the effects of a human convention), they may not fail to comply with that dictated by natural and divine law, the mistress of kings as well as of subjects. Now, these rules are almost all included in the words of Jeremiah, which God, according to St. Jerome, addresses to kings on giving them the command: —Facite judicium et justitiam, liberate vi oppressum de manu calumniatoris, et advenam, et pupillum, et viduam nolite contristare, neque opprimatis inique, et sanguinem innocentum non effundatis. Such is the summary of the obligations of a king; such the laws of his institution, which lay him under the obligation of maintaining in peace and justice the orphan, the widow, the poor, the rich and the powerful man, and him who can do nothing for himself. Upon him rest the wrongs of his ministers towards some, the injustice suffered by others, the sorrows of the afflicted, the tears of those who weep, not to mention many other burdens – a flood of cares and obligations – imposed upon every prince or chief of a state. For if he is the head to command and govern, and to bear the burdens of others, he should also be the feet upon which the whole weight of the state is sustained. Kings and monarchs, says the holy man Job, as we have seen, bear and carry the world upon their shoulders, on account of their office. Hence the figure we meet with in the Book of Wisdom: In veste poderis, quam habebat summus sacerdos, totus erat orbis terrarum. From the moment a man is created king, let him consider himself loaded with a burden so heavy that a strong carriage would not support it. Moses felt this strongly; for God having made him His viceroy, His captain-general, His lieutenant in the government, instead of returning thanks for so distinguished a favor, he complains that so heavy a burden should be placed upon him. Cur afflixisti servum tuum? Cur imposuisti pondus universi populi hujus super me? Again, continuing his complaint, he says, Numquid ego concepi omnem hanc multitudinem? Aut genui eam, ut dicas mihi: Porta eos?– 'Lord, have I conceived all this multitude, or begotten them, and thou shouldst say to me, Carry them on thy shoulders?' Now, it is remarkable that God said nothing of that to Moses; he merely tells him to rule and govern them, to fulfill towards them the office of captain and chief. Nevertheless, what says Moses? That God commanded him to bear them on his shoulders —Porta eos. It appears, then, that he has no reason to complain, since he is merely told to be the captain, to direct, rule, and govern. It is a common expression, 'A word to the wise is sufficient.' He who knows and understands what it is to govern and to be the chief, knows also that government and obligation are the same thing. The very words regere and portare are synonymous, and have the same meaning: there is no government nor employment without obligation and labor. In the distribution of the offices which Jacob made among his children, he appointed Reuben to be the first in his inheritance and the highest in command —prior in donis, major in imperio. And St. Jerome translates major ad portandum, for command and obligation are the same thing; and the obligation and the labor are so much more considerable as the command is more exalted. St. Gregory, in his Morales, says, that the power, domination, and rule of kings over the whole world should not be looked upon as an honor but as a labor. Potestas accepta non honor, sed onus æstimatur. And this truth was ever received by the blindest among the Gentiles. One of them, taking the same view of the subject, says, speaking of another Pagan, that his god Apollo had made him all glorious and happy by the gift of a certain office: Lætus erat, mixtoque oneri gaudebat honore. So that power and command composed of a little honor and weighty obligations. The Latin word for honor only differs from that for burden by one letter —onos and onus. Besides, there always were and always will be persons willing to undertake the responsibility for the sake of the honor, although every one avoids as much as possible any thing that lays him under an obligation, and seeks after what is glorious; a dangerous choice, for the latter is not always the most secure."
If such language is taxed with flattery, it would be difficult to comprehend what is meant by telling the truth. And observe, that the above truths are not told without reflection; the good religious takes such pains to inculcate them, that were it not for the childlike candor of his language, which discloses the purest of intentions, we might accuse him of irreverence. This passage is long, but exceedingly interesting, for it faithfully reflects the spirit of the age. Innumerable other texts might be adduced to prove how unjustly the Catholic clergy are accused of being favorable to despotism. I cannot conclude without inserting here two excellent passages from the learned Father Fr. Ferdinand de Zeballos, a religious of the order of St. Jerome in the Monastery of St. Isidore del Campo, and known by a work intituled, "False Philosophy, or Atheism, Deism, Materialism, and other new sects convicted of State Crimes against their Sovereigns and Rulers, against the Magistrates and Lawful Authorities." Madrid, 1776. Observe with what tact the learned writer appreciates the influence of religion upon society. (Book ii. dissertation 12, art. 2.)
"A mild and moderate government is most agreeable to the spirit of the gospel
§ I
"One excellent and estimable point in our holy religion is, that she offers to human policy, in her important truths, assistance in preserving good order among men with less trouble. 'The Christian religion,' says Montesquieu, with much truth, 'is far removed from pure despotism. Mildness being so strongly recommended in the gospel, it is opposed to the despotic fury with which princes might administer justice and practise cruelties.' This opposition on the part of Christianity to the cruelty of the monarch should not be active, but passive and full of mildness, which Christianity can never lose sight of without losing its character. This is the difference between Catholic Christians and the Calvinists and other Protestants. Basnages and Jurieu, in the name of all their reformation, wrote that it is allowable for the people to wage war against their princes whenever they are oppressed by them, or their conduct appears tyrannical.
"The Catholic Church has never changed the doctrines she received from Jesus Christ and His Apostles. She loves moderation, she rejoices in good: but she does not resist evil, she overcomes it by patience. Governments established under the direction of false religions cannot be satisfied with a moderate policy. With them the despotism or tyranny of princes, the ferocity of penalties, the rigor of an inflexible and cruel legislation, are so many necessary evils. But why has it been given to the Catholic religion only to purge human governments from such inhumanity? First, on account of the forcible impression produced by her dogmas; secondly, through the effect of the grace of Jesus Christ, which renders men docile in doing good, and energetic in combating evil. Wherever false religion predominates, and where, in consequence, these two means of aid are wanting, the government is under the necessity of supplying them as far as possible by efforts of a severe, harsh, and terror-inspiring policy, in default of that virtue which ought to exist in religion to restrain citizens.
"Hence the Catholic religion, by the influence of her dogmas over human affairs, relieves governments from the necessity of being harsh. In Japan, where the prevailing religion has no dogmas, and gives no idea of heaven or hell, laws are made to supply this defect – laws rendered useful by the cruelty with which they are conceived and the punctuality with which they are executed. In every society in which deists, fatalists, and philosophers have promulgated this error, that our actions are unavoidable, it is impossible to prevent laws from becoming more terrible and sanguinary than any we have known among barbarian nations; for in such a society, men, after the manner of brutes, being urged by palpable motives to do what they are commanded and omit what they are forbidden, these motives, with chastisements, must be daily more formidable, in order to avoid losing from habit the power of making themselves felt. The Christian religion, which admirably teaches and explains the dogmas of rational liberty, has no need of an iron rod to govern mankind. The fear of the pains of hell, whether eternal, to punish crimes unrepented of, or temporal, to wash away the stains of sins confessed, relieves judges from the necessity of augmenting punishments. On the other hand, the hope of gaining heaven, as a reward for laudable actions, words, and thoughts, induces men to be just, not only in public but also in the secrecy of the heart. What laws or penalties would avail governments not possessed of this dogma of hell and of glory, to make their citizens men of real merit? Materialists, denying the dogma of a future state, and deists, holding out to the wicked the flattering security of paradise, place governments under the painful necessity of arming themselves with all the instruments of terror, and of always inflicting the most cruel punishments, to restrain the people from destroying one another.
"Protestants have already come to this point by rejecting the dogma of the eternity of hell, or, at least, by preserving merely the fear of a temporary pain. The first reformers, as d'Alembert observes to the clergy of Geneva, denied the doctrine of purgatory, and retained that of hell; but the Calvinists, and modern reformers, by their limitation of the duration of hell, leave only what may be properly termed purgatory. Is not the dogma of the last judgment, when each one's secret offences, however small, shall be exposed to the whole world, of singular efficacy in restraining the thoughts and desires, and all the perversity of the heart and of the passions? It is evident that this dogma so far relieves political governments from the painful and continual vigilance which it would have to exercise over a town in which the idea of this judgment has perished, together with the thoughts which it inspires."
§ II
"There are certain aberrations observable among philosophers, which lead us to think that these men were possessed of some true discernment in their lucid moments, or whilst they were in the Catholic religion. Hence they have said, 'that religion was invented for a political purpose, to spare sovereigns the necessity of being just, of making good laws, and of governing well.' This folly, which stands self-condemned when we come to speak of religion previously formed, supposes, nevertheless, the truth we are speaking of. It is evident to every one, even to the philosophers whose extravagant assertion we have just adduced, that the Christian religion, by her dogmas, is serviceable to human governments, and aids in making good citizens, even in this world. Yet they avail themselves of this very point to put forth their insane malice: but, in reality, and in spite of themselves, they mean to say, that the dogmas of religion are of such service to governments, and so efficacious in facilitating a great part of their work, that they appear to be formed on purpose, and according to the designs of a magistrate or a political government. We cannot say, on this account, that religion alone is sufficient to govern men, without any judicial aid, without the intervention of the laws and of penalties. In speaking of this efficacy of the dogmas inculcated by religion, we are not rash and presumptuous; we do not reject as superfluous the office of law and police. We are told by the Apostle, that for the just there would have been no need of laws; but there are so many wicked, who, through their forgetfulness of their destiny and the terrible judgments of God, live under the exclusive rule of their passions, that it has been found necessary to make laws and institute punishments, in order to restrain them. Hence, the Catholic religion does not reject the wise vigilance of police, nor abrogate its office; she seconds it, on the contrary, and receives assistance from it, to the very great advantage of good governments; the people, through its influence, are ruled better, and with less austerity and severity."
§ III
"The second reason which renders the most mild and moderate governments sufficient in Catholic States is, the assistance which the grace of the gospel affords for doing good and avoiding evil, – an assistance imparted by the use of the sacraments, or other means employed by the Spirit from above. Without this, every law is harsh; this unction softens every yoke, renders every burden light."
In his third article, Father Zeballos repels the accusation of despotism with which the enemies of monarchy reproach it. On this occasion he points out the just limits of royal authority, and overthrows an argument which some persons have pretended to found on the Scriptures, for the exaggeration of the prerogatives of the throne. He expresses himself as follows:
"When the objection, that the sovereign had the power of seizing the property of every citizen, was made against monarchy, it was rather an argument against the nature of despotism than against the form of monarchical government. 'What does it avail,' says Theseus in Euripides, 'to amass riches for our heirs, to bring up our daughters with care, if we are to be deprived of the greater portion of these riches by a tyrant, if our daughters are to serve the most unruly passions?' You perceive, then clearly, that in pretending to argue against the office of a monarch, it is a tyrant only that is spoken of. True, the frequent abuse of power resorted to by kings has caused these names and forms to be confounded. Others have already observed that the ancients were scarcely acquainted with the nature of true monarchy; this was very natural, since they never witnessed any thing but the abuse of it. This gives me the opportunity of making a remark upon the circumstance of the Hebrews asking to be governed by kings. 'Make us a king to judge us, as all nations have,' said they to the prophet. Samuel saw with grief this levity, which was about to cause a total revolution in the government appointed by God. Nevertheless, God commands the prophet to take no notice of this affront, which was principally offered to the Lord; for they were abandoning Him, being unwilling that He should rule over them any longer. 'As they have forsaken Me, and served strange gods, so do they also unto thee,' and ask for kings like unto those of the nations. Observe what an intimate connection always exists between a change of government and a change in religion, especially when the change is from a true to a false one.