CHAPTER LIII.

ON THE FACULTIES OF THE CIVIL POWER.

Having shown that the Catholic doctrine upon the origin of the civil

power does not include any thing but what is perfectly reasonable and

reconcilable with the true interests of the people, let us discuss

the second of the proposed questions. Let us inquire into the nature

of the faculties of this power, and see whether under this aspect the

Church teaches any thing favorable to despotism--to that oppression of

which she is so calumniously accused of being a supporter. We invite

our opponents to demonstrate the contrary, fully confident that they

will find it more difficult to succeed in so doing, than to accumulate

vague accusations, which serve only to lead too confiding minds astray.

To sustain these charges properly, recourse should be had to texts of

Scripture, to tradition, to the decisions of Councils, or to those

of Supreme Pontiffs, to passages of the Fathers; and it should be

shown that these immoderately extend the bounds of power, with the

design of placing undue restraint upon the liberty of the people, or

of destroying it. But it will be said, if the sources retained their

purity, the streams have been polluted by commentators; in other terms,

theologians of latter ages, becoming the adulators of civil power,

have powerfully labored to extend its faculties, and, consequently,

to establish despotism. As many persons too readily claim the right

of criticizing the doctors of what is termed the period of decline,

flippantly censuring those illustrious men, without having ever taken

the trouble to open their works, it is necessary for us to enter into

some details on this subject, and to dispel prejudices and errors which

are seriously injurious to religion, and not less so to science.

The declamations and invectives of Protestants have induced certain

minds to imagine that every idea of liberty would have disappeared

from the heart of Europe, had it not been for the timely intervention

of the pretended Reformation of the sixteenth century. According to

this idea, Catholic theologians are represented as a crowd of ignorant

monks, capable only of writing, in bad language and in still worse

style, a heap of nonsense, the ultimate and only aim of which was to

exalt the authority of Popes and kings, and to support intellectual and

political oppression, obscurantism, and tyranny. That a portion should

become the victim of illusion in matters the investigation of which

is difficult and arduous; that the reader should suffer himself to be

deceived by a writer on whose word he must either rely or remain in

complete ignorance,--as, for example, in the description of a country

or a phenomenon examined only by the narrator,--is nothing strange; but

that any one should adhere to errors which a few moments spent in the

most obscure library would eradicate, that the authors of the brilliant

volumes of Paris should have the privilege of disfiguring with impunity

the opinions of a writer lying covered with dust and forgotten in the

same library, and perhaps on the same shelf upon which the former

glitter; that the reader should peruse with avidity the glossy pages of

the newly-published work, filling his mind with the writer's notions,

without even so much as putting forth his hand to the voluminous tome

within his reach, and which needs only to be opened to furnish at every

page a refutation of the censures in which levity, if not bad faith, is

so ready to indulge; is difficult to be conceived or excused in any man

professing to be a lover of science, and a conscientious investigator

of truth. A great number of writers would assuredly not be so ready and

free to speak of what they have never studied, to analyze books which

they have never read, if they did not reckon upon the docility and

levity of their readers; they would certainly refrain from pronouncing

magisterially upon an opinion, a system, or a school, in fine, upon the

labors of many ages, from deciding the gravest questions by a sally of

wit, if they found that the reader, seized in his turn with distrust,

and particularly with the skepticism of the period, would not place

implicit faith in their assertions, but would take the trouble to

confront them with the facts to which they relate.

Our ancestors did not consider themselves justified, I will not say

in making an assertion, but even a single allusion, without giving

careful references to the source of their information. Their delicacy

on this point was carried to excess; but we have done wrong by going

to the opposite extreme, and judging that we might dispense with all

formality, even in the most important matters which imperiously demand

the testimony of facts. But the opinions of ancient writers are facts,

facts averred in their writings. By judging them hastily, without

entering into details, without imposing upon ourselves the obligation

of quoting authorities, we incur the suspicion of falsifying history,

and history, I repeat, the most precious, that of the human mind. The

levity observable in certain writers proceeds, in a great measure,

from the character which science has assumed in our days. There is no

longer any particular science, but only a general one, embracing them

all, and including in its immense circle all branches of knowledge.

Consequently, minds of ordinary capacity are obliged to remain

satisfied with vague notions, unfortunately only serving to stimulate

abstraction and universality. Never was knowledge so much generalized

as now, and never was it more difficult to obtain deserved renown for

wisdom. In every aspirant to scientific excellence the state of science

requires a laborious activity in the acquisition of knowledge, profound

reflection to regulate and direct it, a comprehensive and penetrating

view to simplify and concentrate it, an intellect of a high order,

elevating him to the regions in which science has established her

abode. How many men are endowed with these qualifications? But let us

revert to the subject.

Catholic theologians are so far from favoring despotism, that I doubt

much whether it would be possible to find better books than theirs

for enabling us to form clear and just ideas of the faculties of

power. I will even add that, generally speaking, they incline, in

a very remarkable manner, to the development of true liberty. The

great type of theological schools, the model to the contemplation of

which they have constantly turned during several centuries, are the

works of St. Thomas of Aquin; and we may with full confidence defy

our opponents to find us a jurist or philosopher who expounds with

more lucidity, wisdom, noble independence, and generous dignity, the

principles to which civil power ought to adhere. His _Treatise upon

Laws_ is immortal, and whoever has fully comprehended it has no further

information to acquire respecting the great principles which ought to

guide the legislator. You think lightly of past times, imagining that

till now nothing was known of politics or public right; and in your

imagination you invent an incestuous alliance between religion and

despotism, fancying you have discovered in the distant obscurity of the

cloister, the plot contrived by this infamous pact. But have you heard

the opinion of a religious of the thirteenth century upon the nature

of law? You already imagine that you see in his ideas force dominating

over all, and constantly invoking religion the better to disguise his

rude snares with a few falsehoods. Learn, then, that you could not

yourself have given a milder definition of law. You would never have

thought, as he has done, of excluding from it the idea of force; you

could never have conceived how, in so few words, he has managed to say

all, and with such exactitude, such lucidity, in terms so favorable

to the true liberty of the people and to the dignity of man. The

definition here spoken of being the summary of his entire doctrine,

and at the same time the guide which has directed theologians, may be

considered as an abridgment of theological doctrines in their relation

to the faculties of civil power. It presents to us at a single glance

what were, in this point of view, the predominating principles among

Catholics.

Civil power acts upon society through the medium of the law; and,

according to St. Thomas, the law is, "_a rule dictated by reason, the

aim of which is the public good, and promulgated by him who has the

care of society_." "Quædam rationis ordinatio ad bonum commune, et ab

eo qui curam communitatis habet promulgata." (1, 2, quæst. 90, art.

4.) A rule dictated by reason, _rationis ordinatio_. Here by one word

despotism and force are banished; here is the principle that the law

is not a pure effect of the will. The celebrated maxim, _Quod principi

placuit legis habet vigorem_, is here corrected. Although capable of

a reasonable and just interpretation, this maxim was, nevertheless,

incorrect, and inclined to flattery. A celebrated writer of our days

has devoted numerous pages to proving that legitimacy has not its

origin in the will of man, but in reason, inferring from this that

what ought to command men is not in the will of another man, but

reason. With much less pomp, but not less solidity and conciseness, the

holy Doctor expresses this idea in the words above quoted, _rationis

ordinatio_. On reflection we find that despotism, arbitrary power,

and tyranny are nothing else than the absence of reason in power, the

domination of the will. When reason commands, there is legitimacy,

justice, liberty; when the will alone commands, there is illegitimacy,

injustice, despotism. Hence the fundamental idea of all law is, that it

be in accordance with reason, that it be an emanation from reason, an

application of reason to society; and the will, in giving its sanction

to law and carrying it into execution, should be merely auxiliary to

reason, its instrument, its arm.

It is evident that, without the action of the will, there is no law;

for acts of pure reason, without the co-operation of the will, are

thoughts and not commands. They enlighten the mind, but do not produce

action. It is, therefore, impossible to conceive the existence of law

without the combined operation of the will and of reason. But this

is no reason why we should not consider all law to have a rational

foundation and to be conformable to reason, that it may merit the name

of law. These observations have not escaped the penetration of the holy

Doctor; he examines them, and dispels the error of believing that the

law consists in the mere will of the prince. He expresses himself as

follows: "Reason receives its motive power from the will, as we have

observed above (quæst. 17, art. 1;) for whilst the will seeks the end,

reason enjoins the means of its attainment; but the will, to have the

force of law, must be guided by reason. In this sense only can the will

of a sovereign be said to have the force of law; in any other sense it

would not be law, but injustice." "Ratio habet vim movendi a voluntate,

ut supra dictum est. (Quæst. 17, art. 1.) Ex hoc enim quod aliquis vult

finem, ratio imperat de his quæ sunt ad finem, sed voluntas de his quæ

imperantur, ad hoc quod legis rationem habeat, oportet quod sit aliqua

ratione regulata; et hoc modo intelligitur quod voluntas principis

habet vigorem legis; _alioquin voluntas principis magis esset iniquitas

quam lex_." (Quæst. 90, art. 1.)

These doctrines of St. Thomas are the same as those of all theologians.

Impartiality and good sense will tell us whether they are favorable to

absolutism and despotism, whether they are in any way opposed to true

liberty, whether they are not eminently conformable to the dignity of

man. These doctrines form the most explicit and conclusive proclamation

of the limits of civil power, and they certainly have in this respect

more weight than the declarations of imprescriptible rights. That which

humbles man, wounds in him the feeling of a just independence, and

introduces despotism into the world, is the will of man commanding and

exacting submission merely because it is his will; but by submitting

to reason, being guided by her dictates, we are not degraded; on the

contrary, we are elevated, we are dignified, for we live conformably

to eternal order and to the divine will. The obligation of being

subject to the law does not originate in the will of another, but in

reason. Theologians, however, have not considered the latter of itself

sufficient to command. They derive the sanction of the law from a

higher source; when the conscience of man was to be acted upon, to be

bound by duty, they could find nothing in the sphere of created things

capable of attaining so high an object. "Human laws, if they are just,"

says the holy Doctor, "are binding in conscience, and they derive their

power from the eternal law, from which they are formed, according to

what is said in Proverbs, chap. viii., 'By Me kings reign, and the

lawgivers decree just things.'" "Si quidem justæ sunt, habent vim

obligandi in foro conscientiæ a lege eterna, a qua derivantur, secundum

illud Proverb. cap. 8, per me reges regnant, et legum conditores justa

decernunt." (1, 2, quæst. 96, art. 3.) This proves, according to St.

Thomas, that just law is derived not exactly from human reason, but

from the eternal law; and that this is what makes it binding upon

conscience.

This is doubtless more philosophical than to seek the obligatory

force of laws in private reason, in pacts, or in the general will. In

this manner the titles, the true titles of humanity are explained, a

reasonable limit is placed upon civil power, and obedience is easily

obtained; the rights and duties of governments, as well as those of

subjects, are established upon solid and indestructible foundations;

the nature of power, society, command, and obedience become perfectly

comprehensible. It is no longer the will of one man predominating over

that of his fellow-man; it is not his reason, but reason emanating from

God, or more properly speaking the reason of God, the eternal law, God

Himself. A sublime theory, in which power finds its rights, its duties,

its force, its authority, its prestige, and in which society possesses

its safest guarantee of order, well-being, and true liberty; a theory

which divests authority of the will of man, since it changes this will

into an instrument of the eternal law, into a divine ministry, _whose

aim is the public good, ad bonum commune_. This, according to St.

Thomas, is also one of the essential conditions of law. It has been

asked, Whether kings are made for the people, or the people for kings?

Such a question could only arise from a want of due reflection upon

the nature of society, its object, and its origin, and upon the intent

of power. The concise expression above cited, _ad bonum commune_, is a

fitting answer to this question. "Laws," says the holy Doctor, "may be

unjust in two ways; either by being opposed to the commonweal, or by

having an improper aim, as when a government imposes upon its subjects

onerous laws, which do not serve the common interest, but rather

cupidity and ambition. Such laws are rather injustices than laws."

"Injustæ autem sunt leges dupliciter; uno modo per contrarietatem

ad bonum commune, e contrario prædictis; vel ex fine, sicut cum

aliquis præsidens leges imponit, onerosas subditis non pertinentes ad

utilitatem communem, sed magis ad propriam cupiditatem vel gloriam:

...... Et hujusmodi magis sunt violentiæ quam leges." (1, 2, q. 96, art.

4.) From this doctrine it follows, that command must be exercised for

the well-being of all; and, failing in this condition, it is unjust:

governors are invested with it only for the advantage of the governed.

Kings are not, as some philosophers, regardless of the most palpable

inconsistencies, have absurdly maintained, the slaves of their people;

neither is their power a simple commission without any real authority,

and continually subject to the caprice of their people; but, at the

same time, the people are not the property of their kings. The latter

can, by no means, consider their subjects as slaves, to be disposed of

at their free-will: governments are not, by any means, the absolute

arbiters of the lives and fortunes of the governed; they are bound

to watch over them, not as a master over slaves from whom he derives

profit, but as a father over the son whom he loves and whose happiness

he has at heart.

"The kingdom is not made for the king, but the king for the kingdom,"

says the holy Doctor, from whom I continue to quote; and, in a style

remarkable for its force and freedom, he continues as follows: "for God

has constituted kings to rule and govern, and to secure to every one

the possession of his rights; such is the aim of their institution; but

if kings, turning things to their own profit, should act otherwise,

they are no longer kings, but tyrants." (_D. Th. de Reg. Princ._ cap.

11.) From this doctrine it is evident, that the people are not made

for kings; that the subject is not made for the ruler; but that all

governments have been established for the good of society, and that

this alone should be the compass to guide those who are in command,

whatever be the form of government. From the president of the most

insignificant republic to the most powerful monarch, none are exempt

from this law; for it is a law anterior to society,--a law which

presided at the formation of society, and which is superior to human

law, inasmuch as it emanates from the Author of all society, from the

source of all law.

No, the people are not made for kings; kings are all appointed for

the good of the people: and if this object is not accomplished, the

government is useless; and this affects the republic as well as the

monarchy. To flatter kings with opposite maxims is to ruin them.

Religion has not, at any time, done this; this was not the language

of those illustrious men who, clothed in the sacerdotal habit,

delivered to the powerful ones of the earth the messages of Heaven.

"Kings, princes, magistrates," cries out the venerable Palafox, "all

jurisdiction is ordained by God for the preservation of His people,

not for their destruction; for defence, not for offence; for man's

right, and not for his injury. They who maintain that kings can do as

they please, and who establish their power upon their will, open the

way to tyranny. Those who maintain that kings have power to do as they

ought, and what is necessary for the preservation of their subjects

and of their crowns, for the exaltation of faith and religion, for the

just and right administration of justice, the preservation of peace

and the support of just war, for the due and becoming _éclat_ of regal

dignity, the honorable maintenance of their houses and families, speak

the truth without flattery, throw open the gates to justice, and to

magnanimous and royal virtues." (_Hist. Real. Sagrada_, lib. i. cap.

11.) When Louis XIV. said, "I am the state," he had not learned this

maxim either from Bossuet, Bourdaloue, or Masillon. Pride, exalted by

so much grandeur and power, and infatuated by base adulators, was here

speaking by his mouth. How unsearchable are the ways of Providence!

The corpse of this man, who said he was the state, was insulted at his

funeral; and, before the lapse of a century, his grandson suffered

death on the scaffold! Thus the crimes of families are expiated, as

well as those of nations. When the measure of His indignation is filled

up, the Lord reminds terrified man that the God of mercy is likewise a

God of vengeance, and that, as He opened upon the world the floodgates

of heaven, so also He lets loose upon kings and nations the tempests of

revolution. When once the rights and duties of power are founded upon

a base as solid as that of their divine origin, when once they become

established by a rule as exalted as that of the eternal law, there

is no longer any necessity for extolling or exaggerating power, nor

of attributing to it faculties to which it has no claim; and, on the

other hand, it is no longer necessary to exact from it the fulfilment

of its obligations with that imperious haughtiness which enervates by

humiliating it. Flattery and menace become alike needless when there

are other resources for exciting it to action, and other barriers for

restraining it within due bounds. The statue of the king, it is true,

is not set up in the public squares as an object for the people's

adoration; but, on the other hand, the king is no longer placed at the

mercy of democrats, soon to become an object of mockery and derision,

the contemptible laughing-stock of demagogues.

Observe the moderation and mildness of the definition we have just

analysed! It does not contain a single word which can wound the

most delicate susceptibility of the most ardent partisans of public

liberty. The law, according to this definition, consists in the rule

of reason; the common weal is its only aim; and when the authority of

him who promulgates and executes it is spoken of, there is no mention

made of any sovereignty, no expression is used indicative of slavish

subjection, the most measured term which it was possible to select is

made use of--_care_: _Qui CURAM communitatis habet_. Bear in mind,

that the author here quoted is accustomed to weigh his words like

precious metal, and to employ them with the most scrupulous delicacy,

pausing a long time, when necessary, to explain any that may present

the least ambiguity, and you will then understand what ideas this great

man entertained upon power; you will discover whether the spirit of

oppressive doctrines could have prevailed in the Catholic schools,

in which this Doctor was, and is still, acknowledged as an almost

infallible oracle.

Compare the definition given by St. Thomas, and adopted by all

theologians, with that which Rousseau has given. In that of St. Thomas,

law is the expression of reason; in that of Rousseau, the expression

of will: in the former, it is an application of the eternal law; in

the latter, the product of general will. On which side are wisdom and

good sense? Law was understood among the nations of Europe as it is

explained by St. Thomas and all the Catholic schools; and tyranny was

banished from Europe, Asiatic despotism was impossible, the admirable

institution of European monarchy was established. At a later period,

Rousseau's explanation was adopted, and then came the Convention, with

its scaffolds and its horrors.

Publicists have already nearly abandoned the theory of "a general

will;" and even those who contend for the sovereignty of the people,

do not maintain that the will of all the citizens should constitute

the law. The law, say they, is not the expression of general will, but

of general reason. The philosopher of Geneva would have the will of

individuals collected, the aggregate of which he termed the general

will. In like manner, the publicists of whom we are speaking are of

opinion that it is necessary to collect, amongst the governed, the

greatest amount of reason, and to give this to the government for

its guidance, the governing body being merely an instrument for the

application of it. It is not men who command, say they, but the law;

and the law is nothing else than reason and justice.

This theory, so far as it is correct, and apart from the applications

which might be made of it, is not a discovery of modern science; it is

a traditional principle of all Europe, which presided at the formation

of society, and has given to civil power an organisation differing

widely from those of antiquity, and equally so from those of modern

times that have not participated in our civilisation. This, on close

examination, appears to be the reason why European monarchies, even

the most absolute, have been so very different from the Asiatic.

A singular phenomenon: at the very time when society among us had

no legal guarantees against the power of kings, it still had other

very forcible ones which were purely moral. Modern science cannot,

therefore, claim the discovery of a new principle of government; it

has unknowingly resuscitated the ancient one. By rejecting the doctrine

of Rousseau, instead of making, according to the vulgar expression,

a step in advance, it retrograded; but to retrograde is not always

to lose an advantage. What is or can be lost by receding from the

brink of a precipice to enter upon a safe road? Rousseau complains,

and with reason, that certain writers have so far exaggerated the

prerogatives of civil power, as to convert mankind into a common herd,

of which rulers could dispose to serve their interest or caprice. Such

reproaches, however, cannot be applied to the Catholic Church, nor to

any of the illustrious schools sheltered in her bosom. The philosopher

of Geneva makes a severe attack upon Hobbes and Grotius for having

maintained this servile doctrine. Catholics have nothing to do with the

cause of these two writers. I will observe, however, that it would not

be just to place the latter upon a parallel with the former. Grotius

has certainly afforded reason for the accusation. He maintains that

there are cases in which governments are not for the benefit of the

governed, but for that of the governing powers. "Sic imperia quædam

esse possunt comparata ad regum utilitatem." (_De Jure Belli et Pacis_,

lib. i. cap. 3.) But, whilst we acknowledge that this principle has a

dangerous tendency, we grant that the doctrines of the Dutch writer do

not upon the whole tend to the total ruin of morality.

By rendering Grotius his due share of justice, we prevent any

exaggeration of the evil which may exist on the side of our opponents;

it must now be permitted to Catholic hearts to remark with noble

satisfaction, that such doctrines could never be established amongst

the professors of the true faith, and that the fatal maxims which lead

to oppression have originated precisely among those who have deviated

from the teaching of the Chair of St. Peter. No; Catholics have never

brought under discussion whether kings have an unlimited power over

the lives and fortunes of their subjects, to such a degree as to

admit of no opposition, whatever be the excess of the absolutism and

despotism exercised over them. Whenever flattery raised its voice to

exaggerate the royal prerogative, this voice was immediately silenced

by the unanimous outcry of the supporters of sound doctrine. Witness

the remarkable example of a solemn retractation imposed by the tribunal

of the Inquisition upon a preacher who had exceeded his bounds. Not

so in England, a country proverbial for its hatred of Catholicity.

Whilst here, in Spain, it was forbidden under a severe penalty to

circulate maxims so degrading, in England the question was proposed

with the greatest gravity, and writers upon law were divided in their

sentiments. (See end of chapter 39.)

Every impartial reader has already been able to form an opinion on

the value of declamations against the right divine, and on that

pretended affinity of Catholic doctrines with despotism and slavery.

The exposition of these doctrines which I have just given is certainly

not founded upon vain reasoning, sought out on purpose to darken the

question. I have not in any way shunned the difficulty.

The question was, to know in what these doctrines consisted. I have

shown clearly, that those who calumniate them do not understand them,

and that we may even be allowed to suppose that they have never taken

the trouble to examine them, such is the levity and ignorance with

which they express themselves. Perhaps I have adduced too many facts

and quotations; but let the reader bear in mind, that my object is not

to present him with a code of doctrines, but to give to this point

of doctrine an historical investigation. Now, history does not call

for discourses, but facts; and in matters of doctrine, the sentiments

of authors are facts. Whilst beholding the salutary reaction now

taking place in favour of sound principles, let us avoid giving an

incomplete statement of the truth. For the cause of religion it is

highly important that its advocates should be free from even the most

remote suspicion of dishonesty or dissimulation. On this account,

I have, without hesitation, given in their integrity the doctrines

laid down by Catholic writers, just as I find them in their works. By

misrepresenting and confounding facts, Protestants and unbelievers have

succeeded in deceiving; let me hope that, by explaining and elucidating

them, I shall not be unsuccessful in removing the deception.

I purpose examining, in the remaining part of this work, some other

questions relating to the same subject--questions perhaps not more

important, but certainly more delicate. And for this reason, I was

obliged to smooth the way, that I might proceed with more liberty

and ease. I have hitherto made the cause of religion defend itself

with its own weapons, without borrowing the support of auxiliaries

which were superfluous. I shall proceed in the same course, fully

convinced that Catholicity can only lose by any line of vindication

that identifies it with political interests, and confines it within a

circle too limited for its immensity. Empires appear and disappear; the

Church of Christ will last till the end of time. Political opinions

undergo changes and modifications; the august dogmas of our religion

remain immutable. Thrones rise and fall; and the rock upon which Jesus

Christ has built His Church stands unshaken throughout the course of

time, ever defying the powers of hell. When we take up arms in her

defence, let us be impressed with the importance of our mission; let

there be no exaggeration, no flattery--the pure truth in measured, but

accurate and firm language. In addressing ourselves to the people, in

proclaiming the truth to kings, let us bear in mind that religion is

above politics, and God above kings and people.

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