INFIDELITY AND INDIFFERENCE IN EUROPE, THE FRUITS OF PROTESTANTISM.
The fanaticism of sects, which is excited, kept alive, and nourished in
Europe, by the private judgment of Protestantism, is certainly an evil
of the greatest magnitude; yet it is not so mischievous or alarming as
the infidelity and religious indifference for which modern society is
indebted to the pretended Reformation. Brought on by the scandalous
extravagances of so many sects of _soi-disant_ Christians, infidelity
and religious indifference, which have their root even in the very
principle of Protestantism, began to show themselves with alarming
symptoms in the sixteenth century; they have acquired with time great
diffusion, they have penetrated all the branches of science and
literature, have produced an effect on languages, and have endangered
all the conquests which civilization had gained during so many ages.
Even during the sixteenth century, and amid the hot disputes and
religious wars which Protestantism had enkindled, infidelity spread in
an alarming manner; and it is probable that it was even more common
than it appeared to be, as it was not easy to throw off the mask at
a period so near to the time when religious convictions had been
so deeply rooted. It is very likely that infidelity was propagated
disguised under the mantle of the Reformation, and that sometimes
enlisting under the banner of one sect and sometimes of another, it
labored to weaken them all, in order to set up its own throne on the
general ruin of faith.
It does not require a great effort of logic to pass from Protestantism
to Deism; from Deism to Atheism, there is but a step; and there must
have been, at the time when these errors were broached, a large number
of persons with reasoning powers enough to carry them out to the
fullest extent. The Christian religion, as explained by Protestants,
is only a kind of philosophic system more or less reasonable; as,
when fully examined, it has no divine character. How, then, can it
govern a reflecting and independent mind? Yes, one glance at the first
exhibitions of Protestantism must have been enough to incline all those
to religious indifference who, naturally disinclined to fanaticism,
had lost the anchor of the Church's authority. When we consider the
language and conduct of the sectarian leaders of that time, we are
strongly inclined to suspect that they laughed at all Christian faith;
that they concealed their indifference or their Atheism under strange
doctrines which served as a standard, and that they propagated their
writings with very bad faith, while they disguised their perfidious
intention of preserving in the minds of their partisans sectarian
fanaticism.
Thus, listening to the dictates of good sense, the father of the
famous Montaigne, although he had seen as yet only the preludes of
the Reformation, said, "that this beginning of evil would easily
degenerate into execrable Atheism." A very remarkable testimony,
which has been preserved to us by his son himself, who was certainly
neither weak nor hypocritical. (_Essais de Montaigne_, liv. ii. chap.
12.) When this man pronounced so wise a judgment on the real tendency
of Protestantism, did he imagine that his own son would confirm the
justness of his prediction? Everybody knows that Montaigne was one of
the first skeptics that became famous in Europe. It was requisite, at
that time, for men to be cautious in declaring themselves Atheists or
indifferentists, among Protestants themselves; and it may readily be
imagined that all unbelievers had not the boldness of Gruet; yet we may
believe the celebrated theologian of Toledo, Chacon, who said at the
beginning of the last third of the sixteenth century, "that the heresy
of the Atheists, of those who believed nothing, had great strength in
France and in other countries."
Religious controversy continued to occupy the attention of all the
savants of Europe, and during this time the gangrene of infidelity made
great progress. This evil, from the middle of the seventeenth century,
assumed a most alarming aspect. Who is not dismayed at reading the
profound thoughts of Pascal on religious indifference? and who has not
felt, in reading them, the emotion which is caused in the soul by the
presence of a dreadful evil?
Things were now much advanced, and unbelievers were not far from being
in a position, to take their rank among the schools who disputed for
the upper hand in Europe. With more or less of disguise, they had
already for a long time shown themselves under the form of Socinianism;
but that did not suffice, for Socinianism bore at least the name of a
religious sect, and irreligion began to feel itself strong enough to
appear under its own name. The last part of the seventeenth century
presents a crisis which is very remarkable with respect to religion;--a
crisis which perhaps has not been well examined, although it exhibits
some very remarkable facts; I allude to a lassitude of religious
disputes, marked by two tendencies diametrically opposed to each other,
and yet very natural: one towards Catholicity and the other towards
Atheism.
Every one knows how much disputing there had been up to this time
on religion; religious controversies were the prevailing taste, and
it may be said that they formed the principal occupation not only
of ecclesiastics, both Catholic and Protestant, but even of the
well-educated laity. This taste penetrated the palaces of kings and
princes. The natural result of so many controversies was to disclose
the radical error of Protestantism: then the mind, which could not
remain firm on such slippery ground, was obliged, either to adopt
authority, or abandon itself to Atheism or complete indifference. These
tendencies made themselves very perceptibly felt; thus it was that at
the very time when Bayle thought Europe sufficiently prepared for his
infidelity and skepticism, there was going on an animated and serious
correspondence for the reunion of the German Protestants with the
Catholic Church. Men of education are acquainted with the discussions
which took place between the Lutheran Molanus, abbot of Lockum, and
Christopher, at first Bishop of Tyna, and afterwards of Newstad. The
correspondence between the two most remarkable men at that time in
Europe of both communions, Bossuet and Leibnitz, is another monument
of the importance of these negotiations. The happy moment was not yet
come; political considerations, which ought to have vanished in the
presence of such lofty interests, exercised a mischievous influence
on the great soul of Leibnitz, and he did not preserve, throughout
the progress of the discussions and negotiations, the sincerity, good
faith, and elevation of view, which he had evinced at the commencement.
The negotiation did not succeed, but the mere fact of its existence
shows clearly enough the void which was felt in Protestantism; for we
cannot believe that the two most celebrated men of that communion,
Molanus and Leibnitz, would have advanced so far in so important a
negotiation, unless they had observed among themselves many indications
of a disposition to return to the bosom of the Church. Add to this,
the declaration of the Lutheran university of Helmstad in favor of
the Catholic religion, and the fresh attempts at a reunion made by a
Protestant prince, who addressed himself to Pope Clement XI., and you
have strong reasons for believing that the Reformation felt itself
mortally wounded. If God had been willing to permit that so great a
result should appear to have been effected in any way by human means,
the deep convictions prevalent among the most distinguished Protestants
might perhaps have greatly contributed to heal the wounds which had
been inflicted upon religious unity by the revolutionists of the
sixteenth century.
But the profound wisdom of God had decided otherwise. In allowing men
to pursue their own opposite and perverse inclinations, He was pleased
to chastise them by means of their own pride. The tendency towards
unity was no longer dominant in the next century, but gave place to a
philosophic skepticism, indifferent towards all other religions, but
the deadly enemy of the Catholic. It may be said that at that time
there was a combination of the most fatal influences to hinder the
tendency towards unity from attaining its object. Already were the
Protestant sects divided and subdivided into numberless parties, and
although Protestantism was thereby weakened, yet, nevertheless, it
was diffused over the greater part of Europe; the germ of doubt in
religious matters had inoculated the whole of European society. There
was no truth which had escaped attack; no error or extravagance which
had not had apostles and proselytes; and it was much to be feared that
men would fall into that state of fatigue and discouragement which is
the result of great efforts made without success, and into that disgust
which is always produced by endless disputes and great scandals.
To complete the misfortune, and to bring to a climax the state of
lassitude and disgust, there was another evil, which produced the
most fatal results. The champions of Catholicity contended, with
boldness and success, against the religious innovations of Protestants.
Languages, history, criticism, philosophy, all that is most precious,
rich, and brilliant in human knowledge, had been employed in the
noblest way in this important struggle; and the great men who were
most prominent among the defenders of the Church seemed to console
her for the sad losses which she had sustained by the troubles of
another age. But while she embraced in her arms these zealous sons,
those who boasted the most of being called her children, she observed
in some of them, with surprise and dread, an attitude of disguised
hostility; and in their thinly veiled language and conduct she could
easily perceive that they meditated giving her a fatal blow. Always
asserting their submission and their obedience, but never submitting or
obeying; continually extolling the authority and divine origin of the
Church, and carefully concealing their hatred of her existing laws and
institutions under cover of professed zeal for the re-establishment of
ancient discipline; they sapped the foundations of morality, while they
claimed to be its earnest advocates; they disguised their hypocrisy and
pride under false humility and affected modesty; they called obstinacy
firmness, and wilful blindness strength of mind. This rebellion
presented an aspect more dangerous than any heresy; their honeyed
words, studied candor, respect for antiquity, and the show of learning
and knowledge, would have contributed to blind the best informed, if
the innovators had not been distinguished by the constant and unfailing
characteristic of all erroneous sects, viz. hatred of authority.
They were seen from time to time struggling against the declared
enemies of the Church, defending, with great display of learning,
the truth of her sacred dogmas, citing, with respect and deference,
the writings of the holy fathers, and declaring that they adhered
to tradition, and had a profound veneration for the decisions of
councils and Popes. They particularly prided themselves on being called
Catholics, however much their language and conduct were inconsistent
with the name. Never did they get rid of the marvellous infatuation
with which they denied their existence as a sect; and thus did they
throw in the way of ill-informed persons the unhappy scandal of a
dogmatical dispute, going on apparently within the bosom of the Church
herself. The Pope declared them heretics; all true Catholics bowed to
the decision of the Vicar of Jesus Christ; from all parts of the world
a voice was unanimously raised to pronounce anathema against all who
did not listen to the successor of St. Peter; but they themselves,
denying and eluding all, persisted in considering themselves as a body
of Catholics oppressed by the spirit of relaxation, abuse, and intrigue.
This scandal gave the finishing stroke to the leading of men astray,
and the fatal gangrene which was infecting European society soon
developed itself with frightful rapidity. The religious disputes,
the multitude and variety of sects, the animosity which they showed
against each other, all contributed to disgust with religion itself
whoever were not held fast by the anchor of authority. To establish
indifference as a system, atheism as a creed, and impiety as a fashion,
there was only wanting a man laborious enough to collect, unite, and
present in a body all the numerous materials which were scattered
in a multitude of works; a man who knew how to give to all this a
philosophical complexion suitable to the prevailing taste, and who
could give to sophistry and declamation that seductive appearance,
that deceptive form and dazzling show, by which the productions of
genius are always marked, in the midst even of their wildest vagaries.
Such a man appeared in the person of Bayle. The noise which his famous
dictionary made in the world, and the favor which it enjoyed from
the beginning, show how well the author had taken advantage of his
opportunity. The dictionary of Bayle is one of those books which,
considered apart from their scientific and literary merit, always serve
to denote a remarkable epoch, because they present, together with the
fruits of the past, the clear perception of a long future. The author
of such a work is not distinguished so much on account of his own
merit, as because he has known how to become the representative of
ideas previously diffused in society, but floating about in a state of
uncertainty; and yet his name recalls a vast history, of which he is
the personification. The publication of Bayle's work may be regarded
as the solemn inauguration of the chair of infidelity in Europe. The
sophists of the eighteenth century found at hand an abundant repository
of facts and arguments; but to render the thing complete, there was
wanting a hand capable of retouching the old paintings, of restoring
their faded colors, and of shedding over all the charms of imagination
and the refinement of wit; there was wanting a guide to lead mankind
by a flowery path to the borders of the abyss. Scarcely had Bayle
descended into the tomb, when there appeared above the literary horizon
a young man, whose great talents were equalled by his malice and
audacity; Voltaire.
It was necessary to draw the reader's attention to the period which
I have just described, to show him how great was the influence
exercised by Protestantism in producing and establishing in Europe the
irreligion, atheism, and fatal indifference which have caused so many
evils in modern society. I do not mean to charge all Protestants with
impiety; and I willingly acknowledge the sincerity and firmness of
many of their most illustrious men, in struggling against the progress
of irreligion. I am not ignorant that men sometimes adopt a principle
and repudiate its consequences, and that it would, therefore, be very
unjust to class them with those who openly accept those consequences;
but on the other hand, however painful it may be to Protestants to avow
that their system leads to atheism, it is nevertheless a fact which
cannot be denied. All that they can claim of me on this point is, not
to criminate their intentions; after that, they cannot complain if,
guided by the instructions of history and philosophy, I develop their
fundamental principle to the fullest extent.
It would be useless to sketch, even in the most rapid manner, what
has passed in Europe since the appearance of Voltaire: the events
are so recent, and have been so often discussed, that all that I
could say would be only a useless repetition. I shall better attain
my object by offering some remarks on the actual state of religion
in Protestant countries. Amid so many revolutions, and when so many
heads were turned; when all the foundations of society were shaken,
and the strongest institutions were torn out of the soil in which they
had been so deeply rooted; when even Catholic truth itself could not
have been sustained without the manifest aid of the arm of the Most
High, we may imagine the fate of the fragile edifice of Protestantism,
exposed, like all the rest, to so many and such violent attacks. No one
is ignorant of the numberless sects which abound in Great Britain, of
the deplorable condition of faith among the Swiss Protestants, even on
the most important points. That there might be no doubt as to the real
state of the Protestant religion in Germany, that is, in its native
country, where it was first established as in its dearest patrimony,
the Protestant minister, Baron Starck, has taken care to tell us, that
"_in Germany there is not one single point of Christian faith which
has not been openly attacked by the Protestant ministers themselves_."
The real state of Protestantism appears to me to be truly and forcibly
depicted by a curious idea of J. Heyer, a Protestant minister. Heyer
published, in 1818, a work entitled _Coup d'œil sur les Confessions
de Foi_; not knowing how to get out of the difficulty in which all
Protestants found themselves placed when they had to choose a symbol,
he proposed the simple expedient of _getting rid of all symbols_.
The only way that Protestantism has of preserving itself, is to violate
as much as possible its own fundamental principle, by withdrawing the
right of private judgment, inducing the people to remain faithful
to the opinions in which they have been educated, and carefully
concealing from them the inconsistency into which they fall, when
they submit to the authority of a private individual, after having
rejected the authority of the Catholic church. But things are not
taking this course; and in spite of the efforts of some Protestants
to follow it, Bible Societies, working with a zeal worthy of a better
cause, in promoting among all classes the private interpretation of
the Bible, would suffice to keep alive always the spirit of inquiry.
This diffusion of the Bible operates as a constant appeal to private
judgment, which, after perhaps causing many days of sorrow and mourning
to society, will eventually destroy the remains of Protestantism. All
this has not escaped the notice of its disciples; and some of the
most remarkable among them have raised their voices to point out the
danger.[13]