CHAPTER XXXIV.

ON TOLERATION IN RELIGIOUS MATTERS.

The question of the improvement of manners, treated in the preceding

chapters, naturally leads me to another, sufficiently thorny in itself,

and rendered still more so by innumerable prejudices. I allude to

toleration in matters of religion. The word Catholicity, to certain

persons, is the synonyme of intolerance; and the confusion of ideas

on this point has become such, that no more laborious task can be

undertaken than to clear them up. It is only necessary to pronounce the

word intolerance, to raise in the minds of some people all sorts of

black and horrible ideas. Legislation, institutions, and men of past

times, all are condemned without appeal, the moment there is seen the

slightest appearance of intolerance. More than one cause contributes

to this universal prejudice. Yet, if called upon to point out the

principal one, we would repeat the profound maxim of Cato, who, when

accused at the age of eighty-six of certain offences of his past life,

committed at times long gone by, said, "It is difficult to render an

account of one's own conduct to men belonging to an age different from

that in which one has lived." There are some things of which one cannot

accurately judge without, not only a knowledge of them, but also a

complete appreciation of the times when they occurred. How many men are

capable of attaining to this? There are few who are able to succeed

in freeing their minds from the influence of the atmosphere which

surrounds them; but there are fewer still who can do the same with

their hearts. The age in which we live is precisely the reverse of the

ages of intolerance; and this is the first difficulty which meets us in

discussing questions of this kind. The prejudice and bad faith of some

who have applied themselves to this subject, have contributed also in

a considerable degree to erroneous opinions. There is nothing in the

world which cannot be undervalued by showing only one side of it; for

thus considered, all things are false, or rather are not themselves.

All bodies have three dimensions; only to look at one is not to form an

idea of the body itself, but of a quantity very different from it. Take

any institution, the most just and useful that can be imagined, then

all the inconveniences and evils which it has caused, taking care to

bring together into a few pages what in reality was spread over a great

many ages; then your history will be disgusting, hideous, and worthy

of execration. Let a partisan of democracy describe to you in a narrow

compass, and by means of historical facts, all the inconveniences and

evils of monarchy, the vices and the crimes of kings; how will monarchy

then appear to you? But let a partisan of monarchy paint to you, in his

turn, by the same method of historical facts, democracy and demagogues;

and what will you then think of democracy? Assemble in one picture all

the evils occasioned to nations by a high degree of development of the

social state; civilization and refinement will then appear detestable.

By seeking and selecting in the annals of the human mind certain

traits, the history of science may be made the history of folly, and

even of crime. By heaping together the fatal accidents that have

occurred to masters of the healing art, their beneficent profession may

be represented as a career of homicide. In a word, every thing may be

falsified by proceeding in this way. God himself would appear to us as

a monster of cruelty and tyranny, if, taking away his goodness, wisdom,

and justice, we only attended to the evils which we see in a world

created by his power and governed by his providence.

Having laid down these principles, let us apply them. The spirit of the

age, particular circumstances, and an order of things quite different

from ours, are all forgotten, and the history of the religious

intolerance of Catholics is composed by taking care to condense into a

few pages, and paint in the blackest colours, the severity of Ferdinand

and Isabella, of Philip II., of Mary of England, of Louis XIV., and

every thing of the kind that occurred during three centuries. The

reader who receives, almost at the same moment, the impression of

events which occurred during a period of three hundred years,--the

reader, accustomed to live in society where prisons are being converted

into houses of recreation, and where the punishment of death is

vigorously opposed, can he behold the appearance of darksome dungeons,

the instruments of punishment, the _san-benitos_ and scaffolds, without

being deeply moved? He will bewail the unfortunate lot of those who

perish; he will be indignant against the authors of what he calls

horrible atrocities. Nothing has been said to this candid reader of the

principles and conduct of Protestants at the same time; he has not been

reminded of the cruelty of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth of England.

Thus all his hatred is directed against Catholics, and he is accustomed

to regard Catholicity as a religion of tyranny and blood. But will a

judgment thus formed be just? Will this be a sentence passed with a

full knowledge of the cause? What would impartiality direct us to do,

if we met with a dark picture, painted in the way we have described,

of monarchy, democracy, or civilization, of science, or of the healing

art? What we should do, or rather what we ought to do, is to extend

our view further, to examine the subject in its different phases; to

inquire into its good as well as its evil: this would be to look upon

these evils as they really are, that is, spread at great distances over

the course of centuries; this would weaken the impression they had

made upon us: in a word, we should thus be just, we should take the

balance in hand to weigh the good and evil, to compare the one with

the other, as we ought always to do when we have duly to appreciate

things in the history of humanity. In the case in question, we should

act in the same way, in order to provide against the error into which

we may be led by the false statements and exaggerations of certain men,

whose evident intention it has been to falsify facts by representing

only one side of them. The Inquisition no longer exists, and assuredly

there is no probability of its being re-established; the severe laws in

force on this matter in former times no longer exist; they are either

abrogated or they are fallen into desuetude: no one, therefore, has an

interest in representing this institution in a false point of view. It

may be imagined that some men had an interest in this while they were

engaged in destroying their ancient laws, but that once attained, the

Inquisition and its laws are become a historical fact, which ought to

be examined here with attention and impartiality. We have here two

questions, that of principle, and that of its application; in other

words, that of intolerance, and that of the manner of showing it.

We must not confound these two things, which, although very closely

connected, are very different. I shall begin with the first.

The principle of universal toleration is now proclaimed, and all kind

of intolerance is condemned without appeal. But who takes care to

examine the real meaning of these words? who undertakes to analyze

the ideas which they contain by the light of reason, and explain them

by means of history and experience? Very few. They are pronounced

mechanically; they are constantly employed to establish propositions of

the highest importance, without even the suspicion that they contain

ideas, the right or wrong comprehension and application of which is

every thing for the preservation of society. Few persons consider

that these words include questions as profound as they are delicate,

and the whole of a large portion of history; very few observe that,

according to one solution given to the problem of toleration, all the

past is condemned, and all the present overturned; nothing is left

thereby to build on for the future but a moving bed of sand. Certainly,

the most convenient way in such a case is, to adopt and employ these

words such as we already find them in circulation, in the same way as

we take and circulate the current coin, without considering whether

it be composed of alloy or not. But what is the most convenient is

not always the most useful; and, as when receiving coins of value,

we carefully examine them, so we ought to weigh words the meaning of

which is of such paramount importance. Toleration--what is the meaning

of this word? It means, properly speaking, the patience with which

we suffer a thing which we judge to be bad, but which we think it

desirable not to punish. Thus, some kinds of scandals are tolerated;

prostitutes are tolerated; such and such abuses are tolerated; so that

the idea of toleration is always accompanied by the idea of evil.

When toleration is exercised in the order of ideas, it always supposes

a misunderstanding, or error. No one will say that he tolerates the

truth. We have an observation to make here. The phrase _to tolerate

opinions_ is commonly used: now, opinion is very different from error.

At first sight, the difficulty appears great; but if we examine the

thing well, we shall be able to explain it. When we say that we

tolerate an opinion, we always mean an opinion contrary to our own. In

this case, the opinion of another is, according to us, an error; for

it is impossible to have an opinion on any point whatever--that is, to

think that a thing is or is not, is in one way or in another--without

thinking at the same time that those who judge otherwise are deceived.

If our opinion is only an opinion--that is, if our judgment, although

based on reasons which appear to us to be good, has not attained to a

degree of complete certainty--our judgment of another will be only a

mere opinion; but if our conviction has become completely established

and confirmed--that is, if it has attained to certainty--we shall be

sure that those who form a judgment opposed to ours are deceived.

Thence it follows, that the word toleration, applied to opinions,

always means the toleration of an error. He who says, yes, thinks no

is false; and he who says, no, thinks yes is a mistake. This is only

an application of the well-known principle, _that it is impossible

for the same thing to be and not to be at the same time_. But, we

shall be asked, What do you mean when you use these words, 'to respect

opinions?' is it always understood that we respect errors? No; for

these words can have two different and equally reasonable meanings.

The first is founded on the feebleness of the conviction of the person

from whom the respect comes. When on any particular point we have only

just formed an opinion, it is understood that we have not reached

certainty; consequently, we know that there are reasons on the other

side. In this sense, we may well say that we respect the opinions of

others: we express thereby our conviction that it is possible that we

are deceived--that it is possible the truth is not on our side. In the

second meaning, to respect opinions is to respect, sometimes those who

profess them, sometimes their good faith, sometimes their intentions.

Thus, when we say that we respect prejudices, it is clear that we do

not mean a real respect professed in this place. We see thus, that the

expression 'to respect the opinions of others' has a very different

meaning, according as the person from whom the respect comes has or has

not assured convictions in the contrary sense.

In order the better to understand what toleration is, what its origin

and its effects, it is necessary, before we examine it in society,

to reduce it to its simplest element. Let us analyze toleration

considered in the individual. An individual is called tolerant, when

he is habitually in a disposition of mind to bear without irritation

or disturbance opinions contrary to his own. This toleration will

bear different names, according to the different matters to which it

relates. In religious matters, tolerance as well as intolerance may be

found in those who have religion as well as in those who have none; so

that neither of these situations, with respect to religion, necessarily

implies the one or the other. Some people imagine that tolerance is

peculiar to the incredulous, and intolerance to the religious; but they

are mistaken. Who is more tolerant than St. Francis de Sales? who more

intolerant than Voltaire?

Tolerance in religious men--that tolerance which does not come from

want of faith, and which is not inconsistent with an ardent zeal

for the preservation and propagation of the faith--is born of two

principles, charity and humility. Charity, which makes us love all

men, even our greatest enemies; charity, which inspires us with

compassion for their faults and errors, and obliges us to regard them

as brothers, to employ all the means in our power to withdraw them from

being fatally deceived; charity, which forbids us ever to regard them

as deprived of the hope of salvation as long as they live. Rousseau

has said, that "it is impossible to live in peace with those that

one believes to be damned." We do not, and we cannot, believe in the

condemnation of any man as long as he lives; however great may be his

iniquity, the mercy of God and the value of the blood of Jesus Christ

are still greater. We are so far from thinking with the philosopher

of Geneva, "that to love such people would be to hate God," that no

one could maintain such a doctrine among us without ceasing to belong

to our faith. The other source of tolerance is Christian humility:

humility, which inspires us with a profound sense of our weakness,

and makes us consider all that we have as given by God; humility,

which makes us consider our advantages over our neighbor as so many

more powerful motives for acknowledging the liberality of Providence;

humility, which, placing before our eyes the spectacle of humanity

in its proper light, makes us regard ourselves and all others as

members of the great family of the human race, fallen from its ancient

dignity by the sin of our first parent; humility, which shows us the

perverse inclinations of our hearts, the darkness of our minds, and the

claims which man has to pity and indulgence in his faults and errors;

humility, that virtue sublime even in its abasement. "If humility is so

pleasing to God," is the admirable observation of St. Theresa, "it is

because it is the truth." This is the virtue which renders us indulgent

towards all men, by never allowing us to forget that we ourselves,

perhaps, more than any others, have need of indulgence.

Yet for a man to be tolerant, in the full extent of the word, it is

not enough for him to be humble and charitable; this is a truth which

experience teaches and reason explains to us. In order perfectly to

clear up a point, the obscurity of which produces the confusion which

almost always prevails in these questions, let us make a comparison

between two men equally religious, whose principles are the same,

but whose conduct is very different. Let us suppose two priests both

distinguished for learning and eminent virtue. The one has passed

his life in retirement, surrounded by pious persons, and having no

intercourse with any but Catholics: the other has been a missionary

in countries where different religions are established, he has been

obliged to live and converse with men of creeds different from his

own; he has been under the necessity of witnessing the establishment

of temples of a false religion close to those of the true one. The

principles of Christian charity will be the same with both these

priests; both will look upon faith as a gift of God, which he has

received, and must preserve; their conduct, however, will be very

different, if they meet with a man of a faith different from their

own, or of none at all. The first, who, never having had intercourse

with any but the faithful, has always heard religion spoken of with

respect, will be horrified, will be indignant, at the first word he

shall hear against the faith or ceremonies of the Church; it will be

impossible, or nearly so, for him to remain calm during a conversation

or discussion on the question: the second, accustomed to such things,

to hear his faith impugned, to dispute with men of creeds opposed to

his own, will remain tranquil; he will engage in a discussion with

coolness, if it be necessary; he will skilfully avoid one, if prudence

shall advise such a course. Whence comes this difference? It is not

difficult to discover. The second of these priests, by intercourse

with men, by experience, by contradiction, has obtained a clear notion

of the real condition of men's minds in the world; he is aware of the

fatal combination of circumstances which has led a great number of

unfortunate persons into error, and keeps them there; he knows how,

in some measure, to put himself in their place; and the more lively

is his sense of the benefit conferred upon him by Providence, the

more mild and indulgent he is towards others. The other may be as

virtuous, as charitable, and as humble as you please; but how can you

expect of him that he will not be deeply moved, and give utterance

to his indignation, the first time that he hears that denied which

he has always believed with the most lively faith? He has up to this

time met with no opposition in the world, but a few arguments in

books. Certainly he was not ignorant that there existed heretics and

unbelievers, but he has not frequently met with them, he has not heard

them state their hundred different systems, and he has not witnessed

the erroneous creeds of men of all sorts, of different characters, and

the most varied minds; the lively susceptibility of his mind, which

has never met with resistance, has not been blunted; for this reason,

although endowed with the same virtues, and, if you will, with the same

knowledge as the other, he has not acquired that penetration, that

vivacity, so to speak, with which a man of practised intellect enters

into the minds of those with whom he has to deal, discerns the reasons,

seizes the motives which blind them and hinder them from obtaining a

knowledge of the truth.

Thus tolerance, in a person who is religious, supposes a certain

degree of gentleness of mind, the fruit of intercourse with men, and

the habits thereby engendered; yet this quality is consistent with

the deepest conviction, and the purest and most ardent zeal for the

propagation of the truth. In the moral, as in the physical world,

friction polishes, use wears away, and nothing can remain for a long

time in an attitude of violence. A man will be indignant, once, twice,

a hundred times, when he hears his manner of thinking attacked; but it

is impossible for him to remain so always; he will, in the end, become

accustomed to opposition; he will, by habit, bear it calmly. However

sacred may be his articles of belief, he will content himself with

defending and putting them forward at convenient opportunities; in all

other cases, he will keep them in the bottom of his soul, as a treasure

which he is desirous to preserve from any thing that may injure them.

Tolerance, then, does not suppose any new principles in a man, but

rather a quality acquired by practice; a disposition of mind, into

which a man finds himself insensibly led; a habit of patience, formed

in him by constantly having to bear with what he disapproves of.

Now, if we consider tolerance in men who are not religious, we shall

observe that there are two ways of being irreligious. There are men who

not only have no religion, but who have an animosity against it, either

on account of some fatal error they entertain, or because they find it

an obstacle to their designs. These men are extremely intolerant; and

their intolerance is the worst of all, because it is not accompanied

by any moral principle which can restrain it. A man thus circumstanced

feels himself, as it were, continually at war with himself and the

human race; with himself, because he must stifle the cries of his own

conscience: with the human race, because all protest against the mad

doctrine that pretends to banish the worship of God from the earth.

Therefore we find among men of this kind much rancor and spleen;

therefore their words are full of gall; therefore they have constantly

recourse to raillery, insult, and calumny.

But there is another class of men who, although devoid of religion,

are not strongly prejudiced against the faith. They live in a kind of

skepticism, into which the reading of bad books, or the observations

of a superficial and frivolous philosophy, have led them; they are

not attached to religion, but they are not its enemies. Many of them

acknowledge the importance of religion for the good of society, and

some of them even feel within themselves a certain desire to return

to the faith; in their moments of recollection and meditation, they

remember with pleasure the days when they offered to God an obedient

spirit and a pure heart; and at the sight of the rapid course of life,

they perhaps love to cherish the hope of becoming reconciled with the

God of their fathers, before they descend into the grave. These men

are tolerant; but, if carefully examined, their tolerance is not a

principle or a virtue, it is only a necessity resulting from their

position. It is difficult to be indignant at the opinions of others,

when we have none of our own--when, consequently, we do not come

into collision with any. It is difficult to be violently opposed to

religion, when we consider it as a thing necessary for the welfare of

society; there can be no hatred or rancor towards faith in a soul which

desires its mercy, and which, perhaps, fixes its eyes upon it as the

last beam of hope amid the terrors of an alarming future. Tolerance, in

this case, is nothing strange; it is natural and necessary. Intolerance

would be inconceivable and extravagant, and could arise only from a bad

heart.

In applying these remarks to society instead of individuals, it must

be observed that tolerance, as well as intolerance, may be considered

in government, or in society. It sometimes happens that government and

society are not agreed; while the former maintains one principle, the

reverse may prevail in the latter. As governments are composed of a

limited number of individuals, all that has been said of tolerance,

considered individually, may be applied to them. Let us not forget,

however, that men placed in authority are not free to give themselves

up without limit to the impulses of their own opinions or feelings;

they are often forced to immolate their own feelings on the altar of

public opinion. They may, owing to peculiar circumstances, oppose or

impede that opinion for a time; but it will soon stop them, and force

them to change their course.

As sooner or later government becomes the expression of the ideas

and feelings of society, we shall content ourselves with considering

tolerance in the latter; we shall observe that society, with respect to

tolerance, follows the same path as individuals. This is with it not

the effect of a principle, but of a habit. Men of different creeds, who

live together for a long time in the same society, end by tolerating

each other; they are led to this by growing weary of collision with

each other, and by the wish for a kind of life more quiet and peaceful.

But when men, thus divided in creed, find themselves face to face for

the first time, a shock more or less rude is the inevitable result. The

causes of this phenomenon are to be found in human nature itself; it is

one of those necessities against which we struggle in vain.

Some modern philosophers have imagined that society is indebted to them

for the spirit of toleration which prevails there; they have not seen

that it is much rather a fact slowly brought about by the force of

circumstances, than it is the fruit of their doctrines. Indeed, what

have they said that is new? They have recommended universal fraternity;

but this has always been one of the doctrines of Christianity. They

have exhorted men of all the different religions to live in peace

together; but before they had opened their mouths to tell them this,

men began to adopt this course in many countries of Europe; for,

unhappily, religions in many countries were so numerous and different,

that none of them could pretend to exclusive dominion. It is true

that some infidel, philosophers have a claim, and a deplorable one,

in support of their pretensions with respect to the development of

toleration; it is, that, by their efforts to disseminate infidelity

and skepticism, they have succeeded in making general, in nations and

governments, that false toleration which has nothing virtuous, but is

indifference with respect to all religions. Indeed, why is tolerance

so general in our age? or, rather, in what does our tolerance consist?

If you observe well, you will find that it is nothing but the result

of a social condition perfectly similar to that of the individual

who has no creed, but who does not hate creeds, because he considers

them as conducive to the public good, and cherishes a vague hope of

one day finding a last asylum therein. All that is good in this is

in no degree owing to the infidel philosophers, but may rather be

said to be a protest against them. Indeed, when they could not obtain

the supreme command, they lavished calumnies and sarcasms on all

that is most sacred in heaven and on earth; and, when they did raise

themselves to power, they overturned with indescribable fury all

that existed, and destroyed millions of victims in exile or on the

scaffolds. The multitude of religions,--infidelity, indifference, the

improvement of manners, the lassitude produced by wars,--industrial

and commercial organization, which every day becomes more powerful in

society,--communication rendered more frequent among men by means of

travelling,--the diffusion of ideas by the press;--such are the causes

which have produced in Europe that universal tolerance which has taken

possession of all, and has been established in fact when it could not

by law. These causes, as it is easy to observe, are of different kinds;

no doctrine can pretend to an exclusive influence; they are the result

of a thousand different influences, which act simultaneously on the

development of civilization.[24]

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