THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
The aristocracy, as including the privileged portion of society,
comprehended two classes very distinct in their origin and nature,
the nobility and the clergy. Both abounded in power and riches; both
were placed far above the people, and were important wheels in the
political machine. There was, however, this remarkable difference
between them, that the principal basis of the power and grandeur of
the Clergy was religious ideas--ideas which circulated throughout
society, which animated it, gave it life, and consequently insured
for a long time the preponderance of the ecclesiastical power; whilst
the grandeur and influence of the nobles rested solely upon a fact
necessarily transient, viz. the social organization of the epoch--an
organization which was becoming rapidly modified, since the people were
then struggling to liberate themselves from the bonds of feudalism. I
do not mean, that the nobles did not possess legitimate rights to the
power and influence which they exercised; but merely that the principal
portion of these rights, even supposing them founded upon the most just
laws and titles, was not necessarily connected with any of the great
conservative principles of society--those principles which invest with
an immense force and ascendency the person or class which in any way
represents them. But we touch here upon a subject little investigated,
and upon the explanation of which depends the comprehension of great
social facts. It is well, therefore, to develop it fully, and to
examine it attentively.
Of what was monarchy the representative? Of a principle eminently
conservative of society--a principle which has withstood all the
attacks of theories and revolutions, and to which have been attached,
as the only anchor of safety, those very nations in the bosom of which
democratical ideas were diffused, and in which liberal institutions
originated. This is one of the causes why monarchy, even in its most
calamitous times, triumphed over its disasters. Feudal pride, and the
unsettled state of the times, with the agitation of rising democracy,
united to oppress it; scarcely was its power distinguishable amid
the troubled waves of society, like the broken mast of a shipwrecked
vessel. But, even at this time, we find the ideas of force and power
bound to those of monarchy. Regal dignity was trampled under foot and
outraged in various ways, but still held sacred and recognised as
inviolable. Theory was not in accordance with practice; the idea was
more forcible than the fact which it expressed: but we need not be
astonished at this phenomenon, since such is always the character of
ideas producing great changes. They are, at first, merely visible in
society; they spread, take root, and penetrate into all institutions;
time continues to prepare the way; and if the idea is just and moral,
if it point to the satisfaction of a want, the moment at length comes
in which facts give way, the idea triumphs, and bends and humbles
all before it. This was the case, in the sixteenth century, with
regard to monarchy; under one form or another, with greater or less
modifications, it was actually essential to the people, as it is still;
and for this reason it naturally prevailed over all its adversaries,
and survived all accidents.
With respect to the clergy, we need not attempt to show that they were
the representatives of the religious principle--a real social necessity
for all the nations of the earth, when taken in its general sense; and
a real social necessity for the nations of Europe, when taken in its
Christian sense.
We have already seen that the nobility could not be compared either
to monarchy or to the clergy, since they were destitute of the high
principles represented by each of these bodies. Extensive privileges,
and the ancient possession of great estates, with the guarantee of the
laws and customs of the time; glorious traditions of military feats,
pompous names, titles, and escutcheons of illustrious ancestors; such
were the insignia of the lay aristocracy. But nothing of all this had
any direct and essential relation with the great wants of society.
The nobility depended upon a particular organization, necessarily
transient; they were too nearly allied to a law purely positive and
human, to be able to reckon upon a long duration, or to flatter
themselves with success in all their pretensions and exigencies. It
will be objected, perhaps, that the existence of an intermediate
class between the monarch and the people is an essential necessity,
acknowledged by all publicists, and founded upon the very nature of
things. In fact, we have seen that in nations from which the ancient
aristocracy has disappeared, a new one has been formed, either by the
course of events or by the action of governments. But this objection
is not applicable to the question in the point of view under which I
consider it. I do not deny the necessity of an intermediate class;
I merely affirm that the ancient nobility, such as it was, did not
contain elements to ensure its duration, since it was liable to be
replaced by another, as it has been in effect. The classes of the
laity acquire their political and social importance from a superiority
of intellect and force; this superiority no longer existing in the
nobility, its fall was inevitable. At the beginning of the sixteenth
century the throne and the people daily acquired a greater ascendency;
the former became the centre of all social forces, and the people were
constantly enriching themselves by industry and commerce. With regard
to learning, the discovery of printing, as it became general, prevented
it from being henceforth the exclusive patrimony of any particular
class.
It was evident, therefore, that the nobility perceived, at this
epoch, their ancient power escaping, and possessed no other means of
preserving a part of it than to struggle to preserve the titles which
it had given them. Unfortunately for them, their wealth was daily
decreasing, not only from the dilapidations occasioned by luxury,
but also from the extraordinary increase of non-territorial riches;
the profound changes wrought in the value of every thing by means of
the reorganization of society and the discovery of America caused
immovable property to lose much of its importance. If the force of
landed property was gradually diminishing, the rights of jurisdiction
were marching still more rapidly towards their ruin. On one hand,
these rights were opposed by the power of kings; and, on the other, by
municipalities and other centres of action possessed by the popular
element; so that, in spite of the most profound respect for acquired
rights, and merely by allowing things to take their ordinary course,
the ancient nobility was inevitably sunk to that point of depression in
which it now exists. This could not happen to the clergy. Despoiled of
their wealth, entirely or partially deprived of their privileges, there
still remained for them the ministry of religion. No one could exercise
this ministry without them; which was sufficient to insure them great
influence in spite of all commotions and changes.