October 1845
By popular liberty, we mean democracy; by democracy, we mean the
democratic form of government; by the democratic form of government, we
mean that form of government which vests the sovereignty in the people
as population, and which is administered by the people, either in person
or by their delegates. By sustaining popular liberty, we mean, not the
introduction or institution of democracy, but preserving it when and
where it is already introduced, and securing its free, orderly, and
wholesome action. By Catholicity, we mean the
Roman Catholic Church, faith, morals, and worship. The thesis we
propose to maintain is, therefore, that without the Roman Catholic
religion it is impossible to preserve a democratic government, and
secure its free, orderly, and wholesome action. Infidelity,
Protestantism, heathenism may institute a democracy, but only
Catholicity can sustain it.
Our own government, in its origin and constitutional form, is not a
democracy, but, if we may use the expression, a limited elective
aristocracy. In its theory, the representative, within the limits
prescribed by the constitution, when once elected, and during the time
for which he is elected, is, in his official action, independent of his
constituents, and not responsible to them for his acts. For this reason,
we call the government an elective aristocracy. But, practically, the
government framed by our fathers no longer exists, save in name. Its
original character has disappeared, or is rapidly disappearing. The
Constitution is a dead letter, except so far as it serves to prescribe
the modes of election, the rule of the majority, the distribution and
tenure of offices, and the union and separation of the functions of
government. Since 1828, it has been becoming in practice, and is now,
substantially, a pure democracy, with no effective constitution but the
will of the majority for the time being. Whether the change has been for
the better or the worse, we need not stop to inquire. The change was
inevitable, because men are more willing to advance themselves by
flattering the people and perverting the constitution, than they are by
self-denial to serve their country. The change has been effected, and
there is no return to the original theory of the government. Any man who
should plant himself on the Constitution, and attempt to arrest the
democratic tendency, — no matter what his character, ability, virtues,
services, — would be crushed and ground to powder. Your Calhouns must
give way for your Polks and Van Burens, your Websters for your Harrisons
and Tylers. No man, who is not prepared to play the demagogue, to stoop
to flatter the people, and, in one direction or another, to exaggerate
the democratic tendency, can receive the nomination for an important
office, or have influence in public affairs. The reign of great men, of
distinguished statesmen and firm patriots, is over, and that of the
demagogues has begun. Your most important offices are hereafter to be
filled by third and fourth-rate men, — men too insignificant to excite
strong opposition, and too flexible in their principles not to be
willing to take any direction the caprices of the mob — or the interests
of the wire-pullers of the mob — may demand. Evil or no evil, such is
the fact, and we must conform to it.
Such being the fact, the question comes up, How are we to sustain
popular liberty, to secure the free, orderly, and wholesome action of
our practical democracy? The question is an important one, and cannot be
blinked at with impunity.
The theory of democracy is, Construct your government and commit it
to the people to be taken care of. Democracy is not properly a
government; but what is called the government is a huge machine
contrived to be wielded by the people as they shall think proper. In
relation to it the people are assumed to be what Almighty God is to the
universe, the first cause, the medial cause, the final cause. It
emanates from them; it is administered by them, and for them; and,
moreover, they are to keep watch and provide for its right
administration.
It is a beautiful theory, and would work admirably, if it were not
for one little difficulty, namely, — the people are fallible, both
individually and collectively, and governed by their passions and
interest, which not unfrequently lead them far astray, and produce much
mischief. The government must necessarily follow their will; and
whenever that will happens to be blinded by passion, or misled by
ignorance or interest, the government must inevitably go wrong; and
government can never go wrong without doing injustice. The government
may be provided for; the people may take care of that; but who or what
is to take care of people, and assure us that they will always wield the
government so as to promote justice and equality, or maintain order and
the equal rights of all, of all classes and interests?
Do not answer by referring us to the virtue and intelligence of the
people. We are writing seriously, and have no leisure to enjoy a joke,
even if it be a good one. We have too much principle, we hope, to seek
to humbug and have had too much experience to be humbugged. We are
Americans, American born, American bred, and we love our country, and
will, when called upon, defend it, against any and every enemy, to the
best of our feeble ability; but, though we by no means rate American
virtue and intelligence so low as do those who will abuse us for not
rating it higher, we cannot consent to hoodwink ourselves, or to claim
for our countrymen a degree of virtue and intelligence they do not
possess. We are acquainted with no salutary errors, and are forbidden to
seek even a good end by any but honest means. The virtue and
intelligence of the American people are not sufficient to secure the
free, orderly, and wholesome action of the government; for they do not
secure it. The government commits, every now and then, a sad blunder,
and the general policy it adopts must prove, in the long run, suicidal.
It has adopted a most iniquitous policy, and its most unjust measures
are its most popular measures, such as it would be fatal to any man’s
political success directly and openly to oppose; and we think we hazard
nothing in saying, our free institutions cannot be sustained without an
augmentation of popular virtue and intelligence. We do not say the
people are not capable of a sufficient degree of virtue and intelligence
to sustain a democracy; all we say is, they cannot do it without virtue
and intelligence, nor without a higher degree of virtue and
intelligence than they have as yet attained to. We do not apprehend that
many of our countrymen, and we are sure no one whose own virtue and
intelligence entitle his opinion to any weight, will dispute this. Then
the question of the means of sustaining our democracy resolves itself
into the question of augmenting the virtue and intelligence of the
people.
The press makes readers, but does little to make virtuous and
intelligent readers. The newspaper press is, for the most part, under
the control of men of very ordinary abilities, lax principles, and
limited acquirements. It echoes and exaggerates popular errors, and does
little or nothing to create a sound public opinion. Your popular
literature caters to popular taste, passions, prejudices, ignorance, and
errors; it is by no means above the average degree of virtue and
intelligence which already obtains, and can do nothing to create a
higher standard of virtue or tone of thought. On what, then, are we to
rely?
“On Education,” answer Frances Wright, Abner Kneeland, the Hon.
Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education, and the Educationists
generally. But we must remember that we must have virtue and
intelligence. Virtue without intelligence will only fit the mass to be
duped by the artful and designing; and intelligence without virtue only
make one the abler and more successful villain. Education must be of the
right sort, if it is to answer our purpose; for a bad education is
worse than none. The Mohametans are great sticklers for education, and,
if we recollect aright, it is laid down in the Koran, that every
believer must at least be taught to read; but we do not find their
education does much to advance them in virtue and intelligence.
Education, moreover, demands educators, and educators of the right sort.
Where are these to be obtained? Who is to select them, judge of their
qualifications, sustain or dismiss then? The people? Then you place
education in the same category with democracy. You make the people
through their representatives the educators. The people will select and
sustain only such educators as represent their own virtues, vices,
intelligence, prejudices, and errors. Whether they educate mediately or
immediately, they can impart only what they have and are. Consequently,
with them for educators, we can, by means even of universal education,
get no increase of virtue and intelligence to bear on the government.
The people may educate, but where is that which takes care that they
educate in a proper manner? Here is the very difficulty we began by
pointing out. The people take care of the government and education; but
who or what is to take care of the people, who need taking care of quite
as much as either education or government? — for, rightly considered,
neither government nor education has any other legitimate end than to
take care of the people.
We know of but one solution of the difficulty, and that is in
RELIGION. There is no foundation for virtue but in religion, and it is
only religion that can command the degree of popular virtue and
intelligence requisite to insure to popular government the right
direction and a wise and just administration. A people without religion,
however successful they may be in throwing off old institutions, or in
introducing new ones, have no power to secure the free, orderly, and
wholesome working of any institutions. For the people can bring to the
support of institutions only the degree of virtue and intelligence they
have; and we need not stop to prove that an infidel people can have very
little either of virtue or intelligence, since, in this professedly
Christian country, this will and must be conceded us. We shall,
therefore, assume, without stopping to defend our assumption, that
religion is the power or influence we need to take care of the people,
and secure the degree of virtue and intelligence necessary to sustain
popular liberty. We say, then, if democracy commits the government of
the people to be taken care of, religion is to take care that they take
proper care of the government, rightly direct and wisely administer it.
But what religion? It must be a religion which is above the people
and controls them, or it will not answer the purpose. If it depends on
the people, if the people are to take care of it, to say what it shall
be, what it shall teach, what it shall command, what worship or
discipline it shall insist on being observed, we are back in our old
difficulty. The people take care of religion; but who or what is to take
care of the people? We repeat, then, what religion? IT cannot be
Protestantism, in all or any of its forms; for Protestantism assumes as
its point of departure that Almighty God has indeed given us a religion,
but has given it to us not to take care of us, but to be taken care of
by us. It makes religion the ward of the people; assumes it to be sent
on earth a lone and helpless orphan, to be taken in by the people, who
are to serve as its nurse.
We do not pretend that Protestants say this in just so many words;
but this, under the present point of view, is their distinguishing
characteristic. What was the assumption of the Reformer? Was it not that
Almighty God has failed to take care of his Church, that he had
suffered it to become exceedingly corrupt and corrupting, so much as to
have become a very Babylon, and to have ceased to be his Church? Was it
not for this reason that they turned reformers, separated themselves
from what had been the Church, and attempted, with such materials as
they could command, to reconstruct the Church on its primitive
foundation, and after the primitive model? Is not this what they tell
us? But if they had believed the Son of Man came to minister and not to
be ministered unto, that Almighty God had instituted his religion for
the spiritual government of men, and charge himself with the care and
maintenance of it, would they ever have dared to take upon themselves
the work of reforming it? Would they ever have fancied that either
religion or the Church could ever need reforming, or, if so, that it
could ever be done by human agency? Of course not. They would have taken
religion as preserved by the church as the standard, submitted to it as
the law, and confined themselves to the duty of obedience. It is
evident, therefore, from the fact of their assuming to be reformers that
they, consciously or unconsciously, regarded religion as committed to
their care, or abandoned to their protection. They were, at least, its
guardians, and were to govern it, instead of being governed by it.
The first stage of Protestantism was to place religion under the
charge of the civil government. The Church was condemned, among other
reasons, for the control it exercised over princes and nobles, that is,
over the temporal power; and the first effect of Protestantism was to
emancipate the government from this control, or, in other words, to free
the government from the restraints of religion, and to bring religion
in subjection to the temporal authority. The prince, by rejecting the
authority of the Church, won for himself the power to determine the
faith of his subjects, to appoint its teachers, and to remove them
whenever they should teach what he disapproved, or whenever they should
cross his ambition, defeat his oppressive policy, or interfere with his
pleasures. Thus was it and still is it with the Protestant princes in
Germany, with the temporal authority in Denmark, Sweden, England,
Russia, — in this respect also Protestant, — and originally was it the
same in this country. The supreme civil magistrate make himself
sovereign pontiff, and religion and the Church, if disobedient to his
will, are to be turned out of house and home, or dragooned into
submission. Now, if we adopt this view, and subject religion to the
civil government, it will not answer our purpose. We want religion, as
we have seen, to control the people, and through its spiritual
governance to cause them to give the temporal government always a wise
and just direction. But, if the government control the religion, it can
exercise no control over the sovereign people, for they control the
government. Through the government the people take care of religion, but
who or what takes care of the people! This would leave the people
ultimate, and we have no security unless we have something more ultimate
than they, something which they cannot control, but which they must
obey.
The second stage in Protestantism is to reject, in matters of
religion, the authority of the temporal government, and to subject
religion to the control of the faithful. This is the full recognition in
matters of religion of the democratic principle. The people determine
their faith and worship, select, sustain, or dismiss their own religious
teachers. They who are to be taught judge him who is to teach, and say
whether he teaches them truth or falsehood, wholesome doctrine or
unwholesome. The patient directs the physician what to prescribe. This
is the theory adopted by Protestants generally in this country. The
congregation select their own teacher, unless it be among the
Methodists, and to them the pastor is responsible. If he teaches to suit
them, well and good; if he crosses none of their wishes, enlarges their
numbers, and thus lightens their taxes and gratifies their pride of
sect, also well and good; if not, he must seek a flock to feed somewhere
else.
But this view will no more answer our purpose than the former; for it
places religion under the control of the people, and therefore in the
same category with the government itself. The people take care of
religion, but who takes care of the people?
The third and last stage of Protestantism is Individualism. This
leaves religion entirely to the control of the individual, who selects
his own creed, or makes a creed to suit himself, devises his own worship
and discipline, and submits to no restraints but such as are
self-imposed. This makes a man’s religion the effect of his virtue and
intelligence, and denies it all power to augment or to direct them. So
this will not answer. The individual takes care of his religion, but who
or what takes care of the individual? The state? But who takes care of
the state? The people? But who takes care of the people? Our old
difficulty again.
It is evident from these considerations, that Protestantism is not
and cannot be the religion to sustain democracy; because, take it which
stage you will, it, like democracy itself, is subject to the control of
the people, and must command and teach what they say, and of course must
follow, instead of controlling, their passions, interest, and caprices.
Nor do we obtain this conclusion merely by reasoning. It is sustained
by facts. The Protestant religion is everywhere either an expression of
the government or of the people, and must obey either the government or
public opinion. The grand reform, if reform it was, effected by the
Protestant chiefs, consisted in bringing religious questions before the
public, and subjecting faith and worship to the decision of public
opinion, — public on a larger or smaller scale, that is, of the nation,
the province, or the sect. Protestant faith and worship tremble as
readily before the slightest breath of public sentiment, as the aspen
leaf before the gentle zephyr. The faith and discipline of a sect take
any and every direction the public opinion of that sect demand. All is
loose, floating, — is here to-day, is there tomorrow, and, next day, may
be nowhere. The holding of slaves is compatible with Christian
character south of a geographical line, and incompatible north; and
Christian morals change according to the prejudices, interests, or
habits of the people, — as evidenced by the recent divisions in our own
country among the Baptists and Methodists. The Unitarians of Savannah
refuse to hear a preacher accredited by Unitarians of Boston.
The great danger in our country is from the predominance of material
interest. Democracy has a direct tendency to favor inequality and
injustice. The government must obey the people; that is, it must follow
the passions and interests of the people, and of course the stronger
passions and interests. These with us are material, such as pertain
solely to this life and this world. What our people demand of government
is, that it adopt and sustain such measures as tend most directly to
facilitate the acquisition of wealth. It must, then follow the passion
for wealth, and labor especially to promote worldly interests.
But among these worldly interests, some are stronger than others, and
can command the government. These will take possession of the
government, and wield it for their own special advantage. They will make
it the instrument of taxing all the other interest of the country for
the special advancement of themselves. This leads to inequality and
injustice, which are incompatible with the free, orderly, and wholesome
working of the government.
Now, what is wanted is some power to prevent this, to moderate the
passion for wealth, and to inspire the people with such a true and
firm-sense of justice, as will prevent any one interest from struggling
to advance itself at the expense of another. Without this the stronger
material interests predominate, make the government the means of
securing their predominance, and of extending it by the burdens which,
through the government, they are able to impose on the weaker interests
of the country.
The framers of our government foresaw this evil, and thought to guard
against it by a written Constitution. But they intrusted the
preservation of the Constitution to the care of the people, which was as
wise as to lock up your culprit in prison and intrust him with the key.
The Constitution, as a restraint on the will of the people or the
governing majority, is already a dead letter. It answers to talk about,
to declaim about, in electioneering speeches, and even as a theme of
newspaper leaders, and political essays in reviews; but its effective
power is a morning vapor after the sun is well up.
Even Mr. Calhoun’s theory of the Constitution, which regards it not
simply as the written instrument, but as the disposition or the
constitution of the people into sovereign states united in a federal
league or compact, for certain purposes which concern all the states
alike, and from which it follows that any measure unequal in its
bearing, or oppressive upon any portion of the confederacy, is ipso
facto null and void, and may be vetoed by the aggrieved state, — this
theory, if true, is yet insufficient; because, 1. It has no application
within the State governments themselves; and because, 2. It does not, as
a matter of fact, arrest what are regarded as the unequal, unjust, and
oppressive measures of the Federal government. South Carolina, in 1833,
forced a compromise, but in 1842, the obnoxious policy was revived, is
pursued now successfully, and there is no State to attempt again the
virtue of State interposition. Not even South Carolina can be brought to
do so again. The meshes of trade and commerce are so spread over the
whole land, the controlling influences of all sections have become so
united and interwoven, by means of banks, other moneyed corporations,
and the credit system, that henceforth State interposition becomes
practically impossible. The constitution is practically abolished, and
our government is virtually, to all intents and purposes, as we have
said, a pure democracy, with nothing to prevent it from obeying the
interests which for the time being can succeed in commanding it. This,
as the Hon. Caleb Cushing would say, is a “fixed fact.” There is no
restraint on predominating passions and interests but in religion. This
is another “fixed fact.”
Protestantism is insufficient to restrain these, for it does not do
it, and is itself carried away by them. The Protestant sect governs its
religion, instead of being governed by it. If one sect pursues, by the
influence of its chiefs, a policy in opposition to the passions and
interests of its members, or any portion of them, the disaffected, if a
majority, change its policy; if too few or too weak to do that, they
leave it an join some other sect, or form a new sect. If the minister
attempts to do his duty, reproves a practice by which his parishioners
“get gain,” or insists on their practicing some real self-denial not
compensated by some self-indulgence, a few leading members will tell him
very gravely, that they hired him to preach and pray for them, not to
interfere with their business concerns and relations; and if he does not
mind his own business, they will no longer need his services. The
minister feels, perhaps, the insult; he would be faithful; but he looks
at his lovely wife, at his little ones. These to be reduced to poverty,
perhaps to beggary, — no, it must not be; one struggle, one pang, and it
is over. He will do the bidding of his masters. A zealous minister in
Boston ventured, one Sunday, to denounce the modern spirit of trade. The
next day, he was waited on by a committee of wealthy merchants
belonging to his parish, who told him he was wrong. The Sunday
following, the meek and humble minister publicly retracted, and made the
amende honorable.
Here, then, is the reason why Protestantism, though it may institute,
cannot sustain popular liberty. It is itself subject to popular
control, and must follow in all things the popular will, passion,
interest, ignorance, prejudice, or caprice. This, in reality, is its
boasted virtue, and we find it commended because under it the people
have a voice in its management. Nay, we ourselves shall be denounced,
not for saying Protestantism subjects religion to popular control, but
for intimating that religion ought not to be so subjected. A terrible
cry will be raised against us. “See, here is Mr. Brownson,” it will be
said, “he would bring the people under the control of the Pope of Rome.
Just as we told you. These Papists have no respect for the people. They
sneer at the people, mock at their wisdom and virtue. Here is this
unfledged Papistling, not yet a year old, boldly contending that the
control of their religious faith and worship should be taken from the
people, and that they must believe and do just what the emissaries of
Rome are pleased to command; and all in the name of liberty too.” If we
only had room, we would write out and publish what the anti-Catholic
press will say against us, and save the candid, the learned,
intellectual, and patriotic editors the trouble of doing it themselves;
and we would do it with the proper quantity of italics, small capitals,
capitals, and exclamation points. Verily, we think we could do the thing
up nearly as well as the best of them. But we have no room. Yet it is
easy to foresee what they will say. The burden of their accusation will
be, that we labor to withdraw religion from the control of the people,
and to free it form the necessity of following their will; that we seek
to make it the master, and not the slave, of the people. And this is
good proof of our position, that Protestantism cannot govern the people,
— for they govern it, — and therefore that Protestantism is not the
religion wanted; for it is precisely a religion that can and will govern
the people and be their master, that we need.
If Protestantism will not answer the purpose, what religion will? The
Roman Catholic, or none. The Roman Catholic religion assumes, as its
point of departure, that it is instituted not to be taken care of by the
people, but to take care of the people; not to be governed by them, but
to govern them. The word is harsh in democratic ears, we admit; but it
is not the office of religion to say soft or pleasing words. It must
speak the truth even in unwilling ears, and it has few truths that are
not harsh and grating to the worldly mind or the depraved heart. The
people need governing, and must be governed, or nothing but anarchy and
destruction await them. They must have a master. The word must be
spoken, but it is not our word. We have demonstrated its necessity in
showing that we have no security for popular government, unless we have
some security that their passions will be restrained, and their
attachments to worldly interests so moderated that they will never seek,
through the government, to support them at the expense of justice; and
this security we can have only in a religion that is above the people,
exempt from their control, which they cannot command, but must, on peril
of condemnation OBEY. Declaim as you will; quote our expression — THE
PEOPLE MUST HAVE A MASTER, — as you doubtless will; hold it up in
glaring capitals, to excite the unthinking and unreasoning multitude,
and to doubly fortify their prejudices against Catholicity; be mortally
scandalized at the assertion that religion ought to govern the people,
and then go to work and seek to bring it into subjection to your banks
or moneyed corporations through their passions, ignorance, and worldly
interests, and in doing so, prove what candid men, what lovers of truth,
what noble defenders of liberty, and what ardent patriots you are. We
care not. You see we understand you, and, understanding you, we repeat,
the religion which is to answer our purpose must be above the people,
and able to COMMAND them. We know the force of the word, and we mean it.
The first lesson to the child is, obey; the first and last lesson to
the people, individually or collectively is, OBEY; — and there is not
obedience where there is no authority to enjoin it.
The Roman Catholic religion, then, is necessary to sustain popular
liberty, because popular liberty can be sustained only by a religion
free from popular control, above the people, speaking from above and
able to command them, — and such a religion is the Roman Catholic. It
acknowledges no master but God, and depends only on the divine will in
respect to what it shall teach, what it shall ordain, what it shall
insist upon as truth, piety, moral and social virtue. It was made not by
the people, but for them; is administered not by the people, but for
them; is accountable not to the people, but to God. Not dependent on the
people, it will not follow their passions; not subject to their
control, it will not be their accomplice in iniquity; and speaking from
God, it will teach them the truth, and command them to practice justice.
To this end the very constitution of the Church contributes. It is
Catholic, universal; it teaches all nations, and has its center in no
one. If it was a mere national church, like the Anglican, the Russian,
the Greek, or as Louis the Fourteenth in his pride sought to make the
Gallican, it would follow the caprice or interest of that nation, and
become a tool of its government or of its predominating passion. The
government, if anti-popular, would use it to oppress the people, to
favor its ambitious projects, or its unjust and ruinous policy. Under a
popular government, it would become the slave of the people, and could
place no restraint on the ruling interest or on the majority; but would
be made to sanction and consolidate its power. But having its center in
no one nation, extending over all, it becomes independent of all, and in
all can speak with the same voice and in the same tone of authority.
This the Church as always understood, and hence the noble struggles of
the many calumniated popes to sustain the unity, Catholicity, and
independence of the ecclesiastical power. This, too, the temporal powers
have always seen and felt, and hence their readiness, even while
professing the Catholic faith, to break the unity of Catholic authority
for, in doing, they could subject the Church in their own dominions, as
did Henry the Eighth, and as does the emperor of Russia, to themselves.
But we pray our readers to understand us well. We unquestionably
assert the adequacy of Catholicity to sustain popular liberty, on the
ground of its being exempted from popular control and able to govern the
people; and its necessity, on the ground that it is the only religion,
which, in a popular government, is or can be exempted from popular
control, and able to govern the people. We say distinctly, that this is
the ground on which, reasoning as the statesmen, not as the theologian,
we assert the adequacy and necessity of Catholicity; and we object to
Protestantism, in our present argument, solely on the ground that it has
no authority over the people, is subject to them, must follow the
direction they give it, and therefore cannot restrain their passions, or
so control them as to prevent them from abusing their government. This
we assert, distinctly and intentionally, and so plainly, that what we
say cannot be mistaken.
But in what sense do we assert Catholicity to be the master of the
people? Here we demand justice. The authority of Catholicity is
spiritual, and the only sense in which we have here urged or do urge its
necessity is as the means of augmenting the virtue and intelligence of
the people. We demand it as a religious, not as a political power. We
began by defining democracy to be that form of government which vests
the sovereignty in the people. If, then, we recognize the sovereignty of
the people in matters of government, we must recognize their political
right to do what they will. The only restriction on their will we
contend for is a moral restriction; and the master we contend for is not
a master that prevents them from doing politically what they will, but
who, but his moral and spiritual influence, prevents them from willing
what they ought not to will. The only influence on the political or
governmental action of the people which we ask from Catholicity, is that
which it exerts on the mind, the heart, and the conscience; — an
influence which it exerts by enlightening the mind to see the true end
of man, the relative value of all worldly pursuits, by moderating the
passions, by weaning the affections from the world, inflaming the heart
with true charity, and by making each act in all things seriously,
honestly, conscientiously. The people will thus come to see and to will
what is equitable and right, and will give to the government a wise and
just direction, and never use it to effect any unwise or unjust
measures. This is the kind of master we demand for the people, and this
is the bugbear of “Romanism” with which miserable panders to prejudice
seek to frighten old women and children. Is there anything alarming in
this? In this sense, we wish this country to come under the Pope of
Rome. As the visible head of the Church, the spiritual authority which
Almighty God has instituted to teach and govern the nations, we assert
his supremacy, and tell our countrymen that we would have them submit to
him. They may flare up at this as much as they please, and write as
many alarming and abusive editorials as they choose or can find time or
space to do, — they will not move us, or relieve themselves of the
obligation Almighty God has placed them under of obeying the authority
of the Catholic Church, Pope and all.
If we were discussing the question before us as a theologian, we
should assign many other reasons why Catholicity is necessary to sustain
popular liberty. Where the passions are unrestrained, there is license,
but not liberty; the passions are not restrained without divine grace;
and divine grace come ordinarily only through the sacraments of the
Church. But from the point of view we are discussing the question, we
are not at liberty to press this argument, which, in itself, would be
conclusive. The Protestants have foolishly raised the question of the
influence of Catholicity on democracy, and have sought to frighten our
countrymen from embracing it by appealing to their democratic
prejudices, or, if you will, convictions. We have chosen to meet them on
this question, and to prove that democracy without Catholicity cannot
be sustained. Yet in our own minds the question is really unimportant.
We have proved the insufficiency of Protestantism to sustain democracy.
What then? Have we in so doing proved that Protestantism is not the true
religion? Not at all; for we have no infallible evidence that democracy
is the true or even the best form of government. It may be so, and the
great majority of the American people believe it is so; but they may be
mistaken, and Protestantism be true, not withstanding its
incompatibility with republican institutions. So we have proved that
Catholicity is necessary to sustain such institutions. But what then?
Have we proved it to be the true religion? Not at all. For such
institutions may themselves be false and mischievous. Nothing in this
way is settled in favor of one religion or another, because no system of
politics can ever constitute a standard by which to try a religious
system. Religion is more ultimate than politics, and you must conform
your politics to your religion, and not your religion to your politics.
You must be the veriest infidels to deny this.
This conceded, the question the Protestants raise is exceedingly
insignificant. The real question is, Which religion is from God? If it
be Protestantism, they should refuse to subject it to any human test,
and should blush to think of compelling it to conform to any thing
human; for when God speaks, man has nothing to do but to listen and
obey. So, having decided that Catholicity is from God, save in
condescension to the weakness of our Protestant brethren, we must refuse
to consider it in its political bearings. It speaks from God, and its
speech overrides every other speech, its authority every other
authority. It is the sovereign of sovereigns. He who could question
this, admitting it to be from God, has yet to obtain his first religious
conception, and to take his first lesson in religious liberty; for we
are to hear God, rather than hearken unto men. But we have met the
Protestants on their own ground, because, though in doing so we
surrendered the vantage-ground we might occupy. We know the strength of
Catholicity and the weakness of Protestantism. We know what
Protestantism has done for liberty, and what it can do. It can take off
restraints, and introduce license, but it can do nothing to sustain true
liberty. Catholicity depends on no form of government; it leaves the
people to adopt such forms of government as they please, because under
any or all forms of government it can fulfill its mission of training up
souls for heaven; and the eternal salvation of one single soul is worth
more than, is a good far outweighing, the most perfect civil liberty,
nay, all the worldly prosperity and enjoyment ever obtained or to be
obtained by the whole human race.
It is, after all, in this fact, which Catholicity constantly brings
to our minds, and impresses upon our hearts, that consists its chief
power, aside from the grace of the sacraments, to sustain popular
liberty. The danger to that liberty comes from love of the world, — the
ambition for power or place, the greediness of gain or distinction. It
comes from lawless passions, from inordinate love of the goods of time
and sense. Catholicity, by showing us the vanity of all these, by
pointing us to the eternal reward that awaits the just, moderates this
inordinate love, these lawless passions, and checks the rivalries and
struggles in which popular liberty receives her death blow. Once learn
that all these things are vanity, that even civil liberty itself is no
great good, that even bodily slavery is no great evil, that the one
thing needful is a mind and heart conformed to the will of God, and you
have a disposition which will sustain a democracy wherever introduced,
though doubtless a disposition that would not lead you to introduce it
where it is not.
But this last is no objection, for the revolutionary spirit is as
fatal to democracy as to any other form of government. It is the spirit
of insubordination and of disorder. It is opposed to all fixed rule, to
all permanent order. It loosens every thing, and sets all afloat. Where
all is floating, where nothing is fixed, where nothing can be counted on
to be to-morrow what it is to-day, there is no liberty, no solid good.
The universal restlessness of Protestant nations, the universal
disposition to change, the constant movements of populations, so much
admired by shortsighted philosophers, are a sad spectacle to the
sober-minded Christian, who would, as far as possible, find in all
things a type of that eternal fixedness and repose he looks forward to
as the blessed reward of his trials and labors here. Catholicity comes
here to our relief. All else may change, but it changes not. All else
may pass away, but it remains where and what it was, a type of the
immobility and immutability of the eternal God.
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