CHAPTER LXIV.

STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE THREE SOCIAL ELEMENTS.

When once these three elements of government, monarchy, aristocracy,

and democracy, began each to contend for the ascendency, the most

certain means of securing the victory to monarchy, to the exclusion

of the other two elements, was to drive one of these latter into acts

of turbulence and outrage; for it thus became absolutely necessary to

establish one sole, powerful, unfettered centre of action, that would

be able to awe the turbulent and to insure public order. Now, just

at this time, the position of the popular element was full of hope,

but also beset with dangers; and hence, to preserve the influence

it had already acquired, and to increase its ascendency and power,

the greatest moderation and circumspection were requisite. Monarchy

had already acquired great power, and, having obtained it in part by

espousing the cause of the people against the lords, it came to be

regarded as the natural protector of popular interests. It certainly

had some claims to this title, but no less certainly did it find in

this circumstance a most favorable opportunity for extending its power

to an unlimited degree, at the expense of the rights and liberties of

the people.

There existed a germ of division between the aristocracy and the

commons, which afforded the monarchs an opportunity of curtailing the

rights and powers of the lords, convinced, moreover, as they were, that

any measure tending to such an object would be well received by the

multitude. But, on the other hand, the monarch might rest assured that

the lords would hail with delight any act tending to humble the people,

who already had raised their heads so high when the feudal aristocracy

was to be resisted; and, in this case, if the people committed any

excesses, if they adopted maxims and doctrines subversive of public

order, no one could prevent the monarch from putting a stop to their

proceedings by all possible means. The lords, who were powerful enough

to repress such disorders themselves, would very naturally be glad to

leave such a work to the monarch, fearing lest the people, in their

exasperation against them, might deprive them of their prerogatives,

their honors, their property, and even of their lives; or from the

secret satisfaction they would naturally feel at seeing that rival

power brought down which had recently humbled themselves, and whose

rivalry had been maintained through so many and such ferocious

struggles. In such an undertaking, the lords would naturally bring

the whole weight of their influence to the support of the monarch,

thus taking advantage of the false direction given to the popular

movement to revenge themselves upon the people, whilst veiling their

vengeance under the pretext of public utility. The people, it is true,

possessed various means of defence; but when isolated and opposed to

the throne, they found these means too weak to afford them any hope of

victory. Learning, indeed, was no longer the exclusive patrimony of any

privileged class, but knowledge had not had time to become diffused so

far as to form a public opinion strong enough to exercise any direct

influence upon the affairs of government. The art of printing was

already producing its results, but was not yet sufficiently developed

to produce that rapid and extensive circulation of ideas which has

subsequently been attained. Notwithstanding the efforts everywhere

made at that time to promote the diffusion of knowledge, we need only

understand correctly the nature and character of the knowledge of the

period, to be convinced that neither in substance nor in form was

it calculated to become, to any general extent, the property of the

popular classes. Thanks to the progress of commerce and the arts, there

arose, it is true, a new description of wealth, destined of necessity

to become the patrimony of the people. But commerce and the arts were

then in their infancy, and did not possess either the extent or the

influence which, at a later period, connected them intimately with

every branch of society. Except in some few countries of very little

importance, the position of the merchant and the artizan could not

secure them any great amount of influence of itself.

Considering the course of events, and the elevation which royal power

had acquired on the ruins of feudalism, the only means for restricting

monarchical power, until the democratic element should have acquired

sufficient force to be respected, was the union of the aristocracy

with the people. But such a coalition was not easily to be obtained,

since between the aristocracy and the people there existed so much

animosity and rivalry--a rivalry which, to a certain extent, was

inevitable, owing to the opposition of their respective interests.

We must bear in mind, however, that the nobility were not the only

aristocracy; there was another much more powerful and influential than

they--the clergy. This latter class was at that time possessed of all

the ascendency and influence which both moral and material means can

confer; in fact, besides the religious character, which insured the

respect and veneration of the people, they were possessed, at the same

time, of abundant riches; which easily secured to them, on the one

hand, gratitude and influence; and, on the other, made them feared by

the great, and respected by monarchs. Now, here is one of the leading

mistakes of Protestantism: to crush the power of the clergy at such a

time, was to accelerate the complete victory of absolute monarchy, to

leave the people defenceless, the monarch unrestrained, aristocracy

without a bond of union, without a vital principle; it was to prevent

the three elements--monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy--from uniting

to form a limited government, towards which almost all the European

nations appeared to be inclining. We have already seen that it was

not at that time expedient to isolate the people, for their political

existence was still feeble and precarious; and it is no less evident

that the nobility, as a means of government, ought not to have been

left to themselves. This class, possessing no other vital principle

than that derived from their titles and privileges, were incapable of

resisting the attacks continually aimed at them by the royal power. In

spite of themselves, the nobility were under the necessity of yielding

to the monarch's will, of abandoning their inaccessible castles,

to resort to the sumptuous palaces of kings, and play the part of

courtiers.

Protestantism crushed the power of the clergy, not only in the

countries in which it succeeded in implanting its errors, but also in

others. In fact, where it could not fully introduce itself, its ideas,

when not in open opposition to the Catholic faith, exercised a certain

degree of influence. From that time the power of the clergy lost its

principal support in the political influence of the Popes, for whilst

kings assumed a tone of greater boldness against the pretensions of the

Holy See, the Popes, on their side, that they might give no pretext, no

occasion for the declamations of Protestants, were obliged to act with

great circumspection in every thing relating to temporal affairs. All

this has been regarded as the progress of European civilization,--as

one step towards liberty; however, the rapid sketch which I have just

given of the political condition of that period, clearly proves that,

instead of taking the surest way to the development of representative

forms, the road to absolute monarchy was chosen. Protestantism,

interested in crushing by all possible means the power of the Popes,

exalted that of kings even in spiritual matters. By thus concentrating

in their hands the spiritual and temporal powers, it left the throne

without any sort of counterpoise. By destroying the hope of obtaining

liberty by peaceable means, it led the people to have recourse to

force, and opened the crater of those revolutions which have cost

modern Europe so many tears.

In order that the forms of political liberty should take root and

attain to perfection, they were not to be forced prematurely from

the atmosphere which gave them birth; for in this atmosphere existed

together the monarchical, aristocratical, and popular elements,

all strengthened and directed by the Catholic religion; under the

influence of this same religion, these elements were being gradually

combined, politics were not to be separated from religion. Instead

of regarding the clergy as a fatal element, it was important to look

upon them as a mediator among all classes and powers, ready to calm

the ardor of strife, to place bounds against excess, to prevent the

exclusive preponderance of the monarch, the nobility, or the people.

Whenever powers and interests of different natures are to be combined,

a mediator is essential, or some sort of intervention to prevent

violent shocks; if this mediator does not exist in the very nature of

the circumstances, recourse must be had to the law for the creation

of one. From this it is evident what an evil Protestantism inflicted

upon Europe; since its first act was completely to isolate the temporal

power, to place it in rivalship and hostility to the spiritual, and

to leave no mediator between the monarch and the people. The lay

aristocracy at once lost their political influence; for they had now

lost their force and bond of union, which they derived from their

connection with the ecclesiastical aristocracy. When once the nobles

were reduced to mere courtiers, the power of the throne was entirely

without a counterpoise.

I have said it, and I repeat it, that the strengthening of the royal

power, even at the expense of the rights and liberties of the lords

and of the commons, tended powerfully to the maintenance of public

order, and consequently to the progress of civilization; but, at the

same time, the extreme preponderance obtained by this power is much to

be lamented; and it may be well to reflect, that one of the principal

causes of this preponderance was the removal of the clergy from the

sphere of politics. At the commencement of the sixteenth century, the

question no longer was, whether those numerous castles should be left

standing, from the heights of which proud barons gave the law to their

vassals, and held themselves justified in despising the ordinances of

the monarch; nor whether that long list of communal liberties should be

preserved, which had no connection with each other, which were opposed

to the pretensions of the great, and at the same time embarrassed the

action of the sovereign, by preventing the formation of a central

government capable of insuring order, of protecting legitimate

interests, of giving an impulse to the movement of civilization, which

had everywhere commenced with so much activity. This was no longer

the question; on all sides the castles were being levelled, the great

lords were descending from their fortresses, and becoming more humane

towards the people; they were giving up their exactions, and beginning

to show respect to the power of the monarch; and the commons, obliged

to submit to an amalgamation of the multitude of petty states, to form

extensive monarchies, were forced to part with so much of their rights

and liberties as was opposed to the system of general centralization.

The question was, to discover whether there existed any means of

limiting power, and yet securing to the people the benefits of its

centralization and augmentation; whether it was possible, without

embarrassing or weakening the action of power, to secure to the people

a reasonable amount of influence over the progress of affairs, and,

above all, the right they had already acquired of watching over the

public revenues. That is, at once to prevent the sanguinary horrors

of revolutions, and the abuses and disorders of court favorites. The

people alone were incapable of preserving this influence, unless

they had been furnished with a knowledge of the public affairs; an

indispensable resource in such a case, but of which they were in

general completely destitute. I do not mean to deny the existence of

a certain kind of knowledge amongst the commons; but we must bear

in mind that the term _public affairs_ had acquired an extensive

signification; for it was not merely applied to a municipality or

a province; centralization becoming everywhere more general and

triumphant, caused this term to be applied to whole kingdoms, not

merely considered as isolated, but in the whole of their relations with

other nations. From that time European civilization began to assume

that character of _generality_, which still distinguishes it: from that

time, to understand aright the private affairs of any one kingdom, it

was necessary to look abroad over the whole of Europe, sometimes over

the whole world. Men capable of such elevated views could not be very

common in society; moreover, as the most exalted part of society was

attracted by the splendor of the throne of the monarch, a focus of

intelligence was sure to be formed there, with exclusive pretensions to

the government. Compare with this centre of action and intelligence,

the people alone, still weak and ignorant, and the result may be

easily guessed. Weakness and ignorance never prevailed over force and

intelligence. But, what remedy was there for this difficulty? The

preservation of the Catholic religion all over Europe, and consequently

the influence of the clergy; for it is well known that the clergy were

still considered at this epoch as the centre of learning.

Those who have extolled Protestantism for having weakened the influence

of the Catholic clergy, have not sufficiently reflected upon the

nature of that influence. It would have been difficult to discover at

that epoch a class of citizens connected with the three elements of

power by common interests with each, and yet not exclusively allied

to any. Monarchy had nothing to fear from the clergy. In fact, how

can we imagine that the ministers of a religion regarding power as an

emanation from Heaven would declare themselves the enemies of royal

power, which was acknowledged to be at the head of all others? Neither

had the aristocracy any thing to apprehend on the part of the clergy,

so long as they did not outstep the bounds of reason. The titles, by

virtue of which they claimed the possession of riches, their rights to

a certain degree of consideration and of precedence were not likely to

be combated by a class whose principles and interests were necessarily

favorable to every thing within the bounds of reason, of justice, and

of the laws. The democracy, comprising the generality of the people,

found support and most generous protection in the Church. How could the

Church, which had labored so much to emancipate them from the ancient

slavery, and at a later period from feudal chains, declare herself

the enemy of a class which might be considered as her creature? If

the people experienced an amelioration in their civil condition, it

was owing to the efforts of the clergy; if they acquired political

influence, it was owing to the amelioration of their condition--another

favor obtained through the influence of the clergy; and if the clergy

had any where a sure support, it was natural to look for it in that

popular class which, continually in contact with them, received from

them their inspirations and instructions.

Besides, the Church selected her members indiscriminately from all

classes. To elevate a man to the sacred ministry she required neither

titles of nobility nor riches, and this alone was sufficient to insure

intimate relations between the clergy and the people, and to prevent

the latter from regarding them with aversion and estrangement. Hence

the clergy, united to all classes, were an element perfectly adapted

to prevent the exclusive preponderance of any of these classes, to

maintain all social elements in a certain gentle and productive

fermentation, which in time would have produced and matured a natural

combination. I do not mean to assert that there would not have arisen

differences, disputes, perhaps conflicts, inevitable occurrences so

long as men shall be men; but who does not see that the terrible

effusion of blood in the wars of Germany, in the revolutions of England

and France, would have been impossible? It will be said, perhaps, that

the spirit of European civilization necessarily tended to diminish the

extreme inequality of classes; I grant it, and will even add, that this

tendency was conformable to the principles and maxims of the Christian

religion, continually reminding men of their equality before God,

of their common origin and destination, of the emptiness of honors

and riches, and proclaiming that virtue is the only thing solid upon

earth, the only thing capable of rendering us pleasing in the eyes of

God. But to reform is not to destroy; to cure the disease, we must not

kill the patient. It was deemed better to overthrow at one blow what

might have been corrected by legal means; European civilization having

been corrupted by the fatal innovations of the sixteenth century,

legitimate authority having been disregarded even in matters within its

exclusive sphere, its mild and beneficent action has been replaced by

the disastrous expedients of violence. Three centuries of calamity have

more or less opened the eyes of nations, by teaching them how perilous

it is, even for the success of an enterprise, to confide it to the

cruel hazard of the employment of force; but it is probable that if

Protestantism, like an apple of discord, had not been thrown into the

middle of Europe, all these great social and political questions would,

at the present time, be much nearer being solved in a safe, peaceable,

and certain manner, if, indeed, they had not been already solved long

since.[38]

Protestantism and Catholicity compared in their effects on the civilization of Europe · 第 64 / 77 章