It is with a profound feeling of sadness that I see eminent men,

men truly Christian, incessantly depicting in the most sombre

colours society as it now exists, and representing it as only a

prey to political and moral diseases now acute, now indolent, as

deprived thereby of all title to respect, and of all hope of

amelioration, incapacitated at one time for orderly life, at

another for Liberty. As for straightforward attacks upon our

vices and failings, our errors and shortcomings, I complain not

of them however violent: nations as well as individuals require

to be often admonished frankly and with severity; the rudeness

which shakes them is more salutary than the indulgence which

cradles them to sleep. But what I regret and deplore in the

attitude and in the language of these worthy Christian Censors,

is not that they scrupulously and unsparingly expose prevalent

evils, our bad propensities, and our foolish pretensions; but

that they ignore what good there is in us, the progress which we

make, and the just and salutary results to which we are tending.

{15}

The simultaneous presence, the profound intermixture, of good and

evil, of virtue and vice, of wisdom and folly, is the chronic

sore of man and of human societies; this is no new fact, no evil

which we are the first to endure and for which we are the first

to be responsible; it is the old condition of the world as it

appears from the constant testimony of History; each of its ages

has incurred and has merited reproaches, not the same, but at

least as serious as those laid to the charge of our age; and if

we were suddenly transported to any other epoch of the past, it

matters not to which, I do not hesitate to affirm that we would

not willingly accept that epoch in exchange for our own, nor

should we even very much like to contemplate the spectacle.

Severity is well, but justice is due to different periods and

different conditions of society. In the last hundred years we

have gained more, both in morality and in common sense, than we

have ever forgotten.

{16}

And here I am met by a question respecting which I will explain

my view unreservedly and at once. Society in France has reached

its actual condition only by a progressive effort, an advance

more or less perceptible, more or less rapid, but not without

numerous interruptions and vicissitudes; it has sought to escape

in turn from the feudal system, from the pretensions and the

selfish contests of the great nobles, from the predominance of

the Court, from arbitrariness, from the improvidence and caprices

of absolute power. National unity, civil equality, and political

liberty have been, throughout the whole course of our history,

the objects of our aim and desire. Our greatest thinkers, the

actors on the stage of our Politics, the nation itself, with its

tendency dimly marked, yet powerful, have constantly proceeded in

this direction and towards this object. The Revolution of 1789

was the most violent and most serious explosion of this incessant

travail of France. Was it pregnant with fruitful consequences, or

is the issue to be now deplored? France believed that she had

then gained a great victory, not only for herself, but for all

mankind. Did she deceive herself?

{17}

Have we been for so many centuries proceeding in a good road or

in a bad road, towards success or towards delusion? Are we

progressing, or are we declining? It is a question upon which

eminent men, and men whose opinions are entitled to every

respect, are, at the present day, not all of the same opinion;

for whereas some persist in a cry of triumph, others give but

utterance to gloomy and alarming prognostics.

I have some right to say that no one is more struck, more shocked

than I am by the crimes, faults, errors, and follies both of

opinion and action generated by this French Revolution; I never

hesitated openly to characterise them as, in my opinion, they

deserved; indeed the severe contests through which I have had to

pass in my public career may, perhaps, in some degree have

originated in my sincerity upon this subject. I had to confront

many prejudices, and to wound much self-love. I regret no

sentiment which I felt, and I retract no language which I used.

{18}

But in spite of the strong anti-revolutionary opinions which have

been attributed to me, I was and still am convinced that, upon

the whole, whatever the evil which that Revolution occasioned,

and is occasioning, it nevertheless, served the good cause both

of the nation and of Humanity; I believe that France and the

world will gain by it more than they suffered, or are suffering,

and that we are, in the midst of all our trials, still in an æra

of progress, and not at the commencement of a decline. I derive

motives for my Optimism upon this subject in the sphere of ideas

as well as in that of facts. Theoretically the principles of 1789

contain a large share of truth, truth pregnant of consequence,

truth superior to the share of error which they contain, and

which is, nevertheless, large. Historically the tendency and the

travail of opinion which have been for centuries a source to

France of incontestable progress in the way of justice, liberty,

and social happiness, cannot have become, all of a sudden, a

cause of decline.

{19}

Practically, in spite of all its ills and all its shortcomings,

the present century has no cause to dread a comparison with past

centuries. There never has been any epoch in the history of

French society in which it would have bettered its condition by

halting, or to which it should wish to return.

I revert to my question; what perils, what obstacles, do our

social institutions and our manners oppose to the establishment

of Liberty with effect and upon a lasting footing? Is

Christianity of a nature to stand us in good stead, or to hurt us

in such a work?

All earnest men, all clear-sighted men, at the present day,

whether they are Conservatives or Liberals, Christians or

Free-thinkers, Catholics or Protestants, are unanimous in

deploring the preponderance of material interests, the thirst for

physical and vulgar pleasures, and the habits of selfishness and

effeminacy which they generate.

{20}

They are right; we have indeed here an evil greater, when we

consider what is the mission of our epoch, than perhaps even

those believe it to be who deplore it. The Emperor Napoleon said,

in a phrase marked by all the clear and forcible colouring of his

habitual language:--"I do not fear conspirators who rise at ten

o'clock in the morning, and who cannot do without a fresh shirt."

[Footnote 13]

[Footnote 13: "Je ne crains pas les conspirateurs qui se

lèvent à dix heures du matin, et qui ont besoin de mettre une

chemise blanche."]

There is no question of conspirators here, and for the soul to be

vigorous it is not essential that the care of the person should

be neglected. What concerns those who would be free, whether

individuals or nations, is that they should not have their

attention essentially absorbed by considerations affecting merely

their material prosperity, or their petty personal comforts; they

have especially to guard themselves against selfishness and

Epicureanism. Whether his tastes be refined or gross, the

Epicurean does not readily resign himself to make either effort

or sacrifice; but he is not difficult to content if he is

permitted to enjoy his pleasures and his repose.

{21}

Selfishness, even where it is sober and gentle, is a cold and

sterile passion, it owes its empire to its success in enervating

and lowering a man's nature. Liberty calls for a character of

more strength, higher aspirations, greater power of resistance; a

state of soul offering freer action to moral sympathy and

disinterested motives. It is precisely here that Christianity can

supply modern society with that of which it stands in need.

Christianity teaches all men, the great and the small, the rich

and the poor, not to devote all their lives to material things;

she summons them to more elevated regions, and whilst she

inspires them with a purer ambition, she opens to them a fairer

hope even of happiness. The Christian, whether his station be

powerful or humble, and his aspirations ambitious or modest, can

never find an exclusive object of attention, or an exclusive

motive to action, even in that principle of interest which

politicians, using the word in its best sense, vainly imagine to

be a panacea.

{22}

Man, whether towards his fellow-creatures, or on his own account,

has another object to pursue, other laws to accomplish, other

sentiments to display and to satisfy: he can neither be an

Epicurean nor an Egotist.

This is the first and the greatest of the services which

Christianity can and does render in our days to every society

which aspires to Liberty. I proceed to mention a second service.

There is no liberty without a large measure of license. They are

dreamers who hope to enjoy the benefits of the one without

incurring the risk, and undergoing the inconveniences, of the

other. They, too, are dreamers who believe that license will ever

be effectually repressed by penalties, courts of justice, or

measures of Police. Two things are certain; the one is, that it

is idle to attempt to repress license completely in a free

country; the other, that the moral and preventive forces of

society itself are alone to be relied upon, both by governments

and nations, to enable them to support that license which they

cannot suppress.

{23}

Christianity is the most efficacious, the most popular, and the

most approved of these forces. It is efficacious against license

for two reasons and in two ways. In principle, Christianity

maintains to Authority its right and its rank intact; without

humbling it before Liberty, Christianity yet recognises the

rights of Liberty, and demands that these should be admitted; in

fact Christianity inspires men with a sentiment, with which

authority cannot dispense, respect. The absence of respect is the

most serious danger to which authority is exposed; authority

suffers much more from insult than from attack; it is precisely

to the task of systematically insulting and debasing authority,

that its most ardent opponents, in our days, address themselves

with most passion and with most art. There exist licentious,

turbulent, and insolent persons in Christian societies, just as

such exist in other societies; but Christian principles and

Christian habits make and maintain friends to Order in the great

mass of the people as well as in the higher classes, friends to

order, who respect order both in law and in morals, men whom

licentious and insulting; conduct shock as much as they terrify,

and who, equally free, appeal in their own favour to the maxims

and the arms of Liberty.

{24}

History supplies us on this subject with conclusive examples. The

nations of Christendom are the only nations to which license has

not brought as a final consequence anarchy and despotism,--the

only nations which, although they have on different occasions and

by salutary reactions experienced the excesses both of power and

of liberty, have not succumbed under them morally and

politically. Neither the states of Pagan Antiquity nor those of

the East, whether Bouddhist or Mussulman, have stood such trials;

these have had their days of healthy vigour and even of glory;

but when the evils which license or tyranny generated have once

come upon them, they have fallen irretrievably, and all their

subsequent history has merely been that of a decline more or less

rapid, more or less stormy, more or less apathetic.

{25}

It is the honour of the Christian Religion that it has within it

that which can cure states of their maladies, as well as

individuals of their errors; and that, by the belief which it

generates, and the sentiments which it inspires, it has already

more than once furnished, sometimes to the friends of Order, and

sometimes to the friends of Liberty, a refuge in their reverses,

as well as strength to recover lost ground.

It would be as imprudent as ungrateful in these days for the

friends of Liberty to ignore this grand fact and its salutary

admonishment. They are called to a work much more difficult than

any that they have hitherto had to accomplish: their task is no

longer merely to search after guarantees for Liberty against the

encroachments of pre-existent Power, or the accidental and

transient ebullition of License. They have to reconcile the

normal and constitutional dominion of Democracy with Liberty, and

with the regular action and permanence of Liberty.

{26}

Until modern times, political liberty, wherever it has existed,

has been the result of the simultaneous presence and of the

conflict of different forces of society, no one of them strong

enough to rule alone, but each too weak to resist efficaciously

the attack of the others; at one time the Crown, at another the

Aristocracy, at another the Church, each previously powerful and

independent, have lived side by side with Democracy when

Democracy has had limits and restrictions imposed upon its power

and success; but at the present day, there are amongst us no

distinct surviving influences which are powerful enough to play a

similar part in society and in the government. The Crown, the

Aristocracy, and the Church are no longer anything but frail

wrecks of the past, or instruments created by the Democracy, and

indebted to it for a borrowed force. Is this to be henceforth the

permanent condition of human society, or is it only a phase, more

or less transitory, of a series of ages and of revolutions, which

fresh ages and fresh revolutions will hereafter profoundly

modify? Futurity must decide. In any case, it is only under the

exclusive dominion of a single force, Democracy, that in these

days free institutions can be founded.

{27}

That every dominant force when single is tempted to commit abuses

and to become tyrannical, is a truth so much in accordance with

the lessons of experience and with the conclusions of reason,

that no pains need be taken to insist upon it. Not to speak of

the dangerous acclivity upon which Democracy, in common with all

other forces, is placed, it has peculiar characteristics which

are not of a nature to set the friends of Liberty at their ease.

Democracy derives its origin and power from the right of every

human will, and from the majority of human wills. Truth and error

press so very closely upon each other in this system, that

Liberty is placed in a position of great peril. Man's volition is

entitled to every respect; but it is not all its law to itself,

nor is it in itself essentially a law at all: it is bound to

another law, which does not emanate from itself, and which comes

to it from a higher source than man, and which it is as unable to

abrogate as it was to create.

{28}

The law paramount is the moral law,--the law laid down by God, to

which all wills of men, whatever their number, are bound to

submit. Democracy, essentially busied with the wills of men, is

always inclined to attribute to them the character and the rights

of divine law. Man occupies so much space in this form of

government, and has so elevated a position there, that he easily

forgets God--easily takes himself for God. The result is a sort

of political polytheism, which, unless it appeals to a gross,

material arbitrament, and to the majority of human wills, is

incapable of arriving at that unity of law and of action, with

which no society or government can dispense. I do not say that

the individual man, and that numbers of men, are the only

principles, but I do say, that they are principles characteristic

of Democracy; it is against the absolute dominion of these two

principles that Democracy has, in the interest of its own honour

and of its own safety, to be incessantly admonished and defended.

{29}

A royal sage enjoined that he should be saluted every morning

with the words, "Remember thou art man." This sublime and prudent

admonition is no less needful for Democracy than for Royalty, and

it is precisely the salutary service which is rendered to it by

Christianity. In Christianity there is a light, a voice, a law, a

history, which does not come from man, but which, without

offending his dignity, sets him in his proper place. No belief,

no institution, exalts man's dignity so highly, and at the same

time so effectually represses his arrogance. The more democratic

a society is, the more it is important that this double effect

shall take place within it. Christianity alone has this virtue.

I am aware of the capital objection made to its empire. "The

Physic without the Physicians," exclaimed Rousseau, in a sally

against medical men, but the expression shows nevertheless how

little he was disposed to forget that it is possible for medicine

to be good and salutary.

{30}

How often have I heard men of intelligence and men in all other

respects very worthy of consideration, exclaim, "Let me have

Religion without the priests: I am a Christian, but no friend of

the clergy." I am far from seeking to leave this difficulty

unnoticed, or to elude it. It is a difficulty of the gravest

nature, not in essence, but in the actual circumstances and state

of opinions at the present day.

As a Protestant it does not concern me. The clergy is not amongst

Protestants the object of any such uneasiness. One of the best

results, in my opinion, of the Reformation of the 16th century,

whether regarded as Lutheran or Calvinistic, as Anglican, or as

the work of other Dissidents in religion, is that it strongly

cemented the union between the ecclesiastics and the general

religious community--between the spiritual and the lay members of

the Church. The Reformation produced this effect, first, by

authorising the clergy to marry and to enter into the relations

which a life of family brings with it; and, secondly, by giving

to the laity a share in the government of the Church.

{31}

The partition was not always judicious or equitable. At one time

the clergy, at another the laity, have been transported from

their natural places, and injured in their legitimate rights; but

the relations between the two classes ceased to present the

appearance of either absolutism on the one hand, or of entire

subordination on the other; the laity obtained a voice and

influence in the affairs of the flock; the priests, although

remaining religious pastors and religious magistrates, ceased to

be spiritual masters. This organisation has led to the two social

institutions combining themselves in a variety of ways. At one

time the civil power has invaded the government of the religious

society, and deprived the clergy, not merely of empire, but of

independence; at another time the two forms of society, the State

and the Church, have regulated by treaty the terms of their

mutual relations; whereas, in the United States of America, the

two forms of society have been entirely separated, and have

mutually recovered their independence;

{32}

elsewhere, as amongst the Quakers and the Moravians, all

ecclesiastical authority and orders of priesthood have been

abolished, and laymen have lived in the isolation each of his

individual conscience, obedient only to its spontaneous impulses.

But amidst all this diversity, it is the fundamental

characteristic of the churches and of the sects which issued from

the Reform of the 16th century, that priests do not in themselves

constitute the necessary and sovereign mediators between God and

man's soul, nor the sole rulers of religious society. It is

particularly by virtue of this principle that the distinction

between civil life and religious life has become an efficacious

and a consecrated doctrine, and that Liberty has resumed its

right and become an active influence in religious society itself.

{33}

But amongst Roman Catholic nations, priests are the objects of a

persistent distrust which has been the fruitful source of much

calamity to Christianity. History forbids surprise. The Roman

Catholic clergy has often presented the spectacle of ambition and

passion, of mundane and selfish interests, strangely intermixed

with faith and with earnest zeal for the furtherance of their

religious mission. Serious ills and grave abuses have resulted

therefrom in the relation of Church to State, and of priests to

their flocks, and even in the bosom of the Church itself. These

are facts almost as undisputed as they are indisputable; in proof

of them the testimony, not only of its adversaries, but of the

holiest members of the Church of Rome itself, may be invoked.

Nothing is more natural, and indeed more inevitable, than that

this should have led and should still lead, not only to ill-will

towards priests, but to their being regarded as proper subjects

for attack. It is not, however, on that account less certain that

such an attack is, in our days, and as society is at present

constituted, unjust, silly, and inopportune, as injurious to

State as to Church, to Liberty as to Religion. There may be

injustice and ingratitude to institutions as well as to

individuals.

{34}

From the fall of the Roman Empire, and during the rudest and most

sombre ages of modern history, the Catholic clergy, whether as

Popes, Bishops, monastic orders, or simple priests, in the midst

of their selfish pretensions and ambitious usurpations, displayed

and expended treasures of intellect, courage, and perseverance in

order to affirm and protect the immaterial and moral interests of

humanity. They did not on all occasions accept their mission to

its full extent; they did not maintain the Christian Religion in

all its breadth, and in all its evangelical disinterestedness;

they had their share in the acts of violence, iniquity, and

tyranny of the different masters of society for the time being;

they often made Liberty pay dearly for the services which they

rendered to civilization; but when Liberty has become one of the

conquests of that very civilization, the proof as well as the

guarantee for its further progress, there is injustice and

ingratitude in forgetting what part the Roman Catholic clergy

effected towards the constitution of that society, the ultimate

result of which has been so glorious.

{35}

The injustice is the greater that it is now inopportune and

useless. From the acrimony, the anger, and alarm which

characterise the attacks directed at Roman Catholicism and its

Priests, we might suppose that the Inquisition was at our gates,

that Rome was making a perilous onslaught upon our civil and

religious liberties, and that we need to deploy all our force and

all our passions to repulse the domination of the Court of Rome

and of its army. Was there ever so strange a perversion of facts?

For a century past, on which side has been the movement and the

aggression? Is it not evidently the spirit of religious and

political liberty which has now the initiative, the impulsive,

onward movement? The defensive is the natural and enforced

situation of the Roman Catholic Church; Romanism is much more

menaced, much more attacked by public opinion in these days than

our liberties are menaced or attacked by her. The supreme power

in the Church of Rome, the Papacy, does indeed maintain, in

principle, certain maxims and certain traditions irreconcileable

with, the actual state of opinion and society; it continues to

condemn authoritatively some of the essential principles of

modern civilization.

{36}

In all earnestness, yet with every feeling of respect, I shall

here make at once use of my right, both as a Protestant and as

the citizen of a free country, to declare my profound conviction

that this systematic persistence, however conscientious and

dignified it may be, shows a great want of religious foresight as

well as of political prudence. I think that Romanism, without

abdication and without renouncing anything that is vitally

essential to itself, might assume a position in harmony with the

moral and social state in these days, and with the conditions

also vitally essential to the existence of such state. I may add,

that so long as the government of the Romish Church shall not

have accepted and accomplished this work of

conciliation--conciliation real and profound--the friends of

Liberty will be justified in keeping themselves on the alert, and

in maintaining a reserve towards it, as representing, themselves,

those moral and liberal principles which it disavows.

{37}

But let them not attribute to this disavowal a greater importance

than it deserves; let them watch the ecclesiastical power which

utters it, without alarm; it has in it nothing very menacing,

nothing that opposes any effectual barrier to the march of

events; Liberalism is not the less victorious in these days, and

not the less advancing. Many faults have been committed, and many

probably will continue to be committed; as has already been the

case, we shall have perhaps many a barrier opposed in our path,

many a reactionary movement to endure, but the general onward

impulse will nevertheless be the same, and the final result, the

conquest of Liberty, religious, civil and political, not the less

a certainty.

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