This shows to conviction the true spirit of the innovators of the sixteenth century. It is clear that, far from wishing the reformation of abuses, they wished rather to increase them. This bare consideration of facts has led M. Guizot, on this point, into the path of truth, when he rejects the opinion of those who pretend, that the Reformation was "an attempt conceived and executed simply with the intention of reconstructing a pure and primitive Church. The Reformation," he said, "was not a mere attempt at religious amelioration, or the fruit of a Utopian humanity and virtue." (Histoire Générale de la Civilisation en Europe, douzième leçon.)
We shall have now no difficulty in appreciating at its just value the explanation which the same writer gives of this phenomenon. "The Reformation," says M. Guizot, "was a great attempt at the liberation of human thought an uprising of the mind of man." This attempt, according to M. Guizot, arose out of the energetic movement given to the human mind, and the state of inaction into which the Roman Church had fallen; it arose from this, that the human mind advanced rapidly and impetuously, while the Church remained stationary. Explanations of this kind, and this one in particular, are very apt to draw admirers and proselytes; these ideas are high, and placed on a level so lofty and extended, that they cannot be looked at closely by the generality of readers; and, moreover, they appear in brilliant imagery, which blinds the sight and prejudices the judgment.
That which restrains freedom of thought, as understood by M. Guizot and other Protestants is, authority in matters of faith: it was, then, against this authority that the uprising of the mind declared itself; or, in other words, the mind rebelled, because it advanced, while the Church, immovable in her doctrines, was, according to the expression of M. Guizot, "in a stationary state."
Whatever may be the disposition of mind of M. Guizot towards the dogmas of the Catholic Church, he ought, as a philosopher, to have seen that it was a great mistake to point out as the distinctive characteristic of one period, that which had been at every time a glorious title for the Church. For more than eighteen hundred years the Church has been stationary in her dogmas, and it is no equivocal proof that she possesses the truth: the truth is unchangeable, because it is one.
What the Church was in the sixteenth century, she had been before, and she has been since. She had nothing particular, she adopted no new characteristic. The reason, then, by which it is attempted to explain this phenomenon, viz. the uprising of the mind, cannot advance the explanation a single step; and if this be the reason why M. Guizot compares the Church to governments grown old, we will tell him that she has had this old age from her cradle. M. Guizot, as if he had himself felt the weakness of his reasoning, presents his thoughts in groups, and as it were pêle-mêle; he parades before his readers ideas of different kinds, without taking pains to classify or distinguish them; one would be inclined to think that he meant to distract them by variety, and confound them by mixture. Judging, indeed, from the context of his discourse, the epithets inert and stationary, which he applies to the Church, do not appear, according to his intention, to relate to matters of faith; and he gives us to understand that he speaks rather of the pretensions of the Church with regard to politics and state economy. He has taken pains, elsewhere, to repel as calumnies, the charges of tyranny and intolerance which have been so often made against the court of Rome.
We find here an incoherence of ideas which was not to be expected in so clear a mind; and as many persons may scarcely be inclined to believe how far this incoherence extends, it is necessary to give his words literally: they will show us into what inconsistencies great minds can fall when they are placed in a false position.
"The government of the human mind, the spiritual power," says M. Guizot, "had fallen into an inert and stationary condition. The political influence of the Church, of the court of Rome, was much diminished; European society no longer was ruled by it; it had passed under the control of lay governments. Nevertheless, the spiritual power preserved all its pretensions, all its éclat, all its external importance. There happened in this respect, what has more than once happened to old governments. The greater part of the complaints made against it were hardly better founded."
It is evident that M. Guizot, in this passage, does not point out any thing which is at all connected with liberty, any thing which is not quite of another kind: why does he not do so? The court of Rome, he tells us, had seen its political influence diminished, and yet it preserved its pretensions; the direction of European society no longer belonged to it, but Rome kept its pomp and its external importance. Is any thing here meant besides the rivalries of which political affairs had been the subject? Did M. Guizot forget what he himself said some pages before, viz. that it did not appear to him to be reasonable to assign the rivalry of kings with the ecclesiastical power as the cause of Protestantism, and that such a cause was not adequate to the extent and importance of the event?
Although all this has no direct connection with freedom of thought, still, if any one be inclined to attribute the uprising of the mind to the intolerance of the court of Rome, let him listen to M. Guizot: "It is not true," says he, "that in the sixteenth century the court of Rome was very tyrannical; that abuses, properly so called, were then more numerous, more crying, than they had been at other times; never, perhaps, on the contrary, had the ecclesiastical power been more easy, more tolerant, more disposed to let things go their own way. Provided that it was not itself called in question, provided that the rights which it had formerly enjoyed were allowed in theory, that the same existence was secured, and the same tributes were paid to it, it would willingly have allowed the human mind to remain at peace, if the human mind had done the same in respect to it."
Thus M. Guizot seems to have forgotten what he had urged with the view of showing that the Protestant Reformation was a great attempt at the liberation of human thought a rebellion of the mind of man. He does not allege any thing which was an obstacle to the freedom of man's thoughts; and he himself acknowledges that there was nothing to provoke this rebellion, as, for example, intolerance or cruelty; he has himself just told us that the ecclesiastical government of the sixteenth century, far from being tyrannical, was easy and tolerant, and that, if left to itself, it would willingly have allowed the human mind to remain tranquil.
It is, then, evident, that the great attempt at the liberation of the human mind is, in M. Guizot's mouth, only a vague, undefined expression, a brilliant veil with which he seems to have wished to cover the cradle of Protestantism, even at the risk of being inconsistent with his own opinions. He reverts to the political rivalries which he before rejected. Abuses have no importance in his eyes; he cannot find in them the real cause; and he forgets what he had just asserted in the preceding lecture, viz. that if necessary reform had been made in time, the religious revolution might have been avoided.
He tries to give a picture of the obstacles to the liberty of thought, and endeavours to rise to the general considerations which embrace all the importance and influences of the human mind; but he stops at éclat, at external importance, and political rivalries; he lowers his flight to the level of tributes and services.
He tries to give a picture of the obstacles to the liberty of thought, and endeavours to rise to the general considerations which embrace all the importance and influences of the human mind; but he stops at éclat, at external importance, and political rivalries; he lowers his flight to the level of tributes and services.
This incoherence of ideas, this weakness of reasoning, and forgetfulness of assertions previously made, will appear strange only to those who are accustomed rather to admire the high flights of talented men than to study their aberrations. It is true that M. Guizot was in a position in which it was very difficult to avoid being dazzled and deceived. If it be true that we cannot observe attentively what passes on the ground around us without narrowing our view of the horizon, if this method leads the observer to form a collection of isolated facts rather than compare general maxims, it is not less certain that, by extending our observations over a larger space, we run the risk of many illusions. Too great generalization borders on hypothesis and fancy. The mind, when taking an immoderate flight in order to get a general view of things, no longer sees them as they really are; perhaps sometimes even loses sight of them altogether. Therefore it is that the loftiest minds should frequently remember the words of Bacon: "We do not want wings, but lead." Too impartial not to confess that abuses had been exaggerated, too good a philosopher not to see that they could not have had so great an effect, M. Guizot, who was prevented by his sense of dignity and decency from joining the crowd who incessantly raise the cry of cruelty and intolerance, has made an effort to do justice to the Church of Rome; but, unfortunately, his prejudices against the Church would not allow him to see things in their true light. He was aware that the origin of Protestantism must be sought in the human mind itself; but, knowing the age and epoch when he was speaking, he thought it was necessary to propitiate his audience by frequent appeals to liberty, in order that his discourse might be well received. This is the reason why, after having tempered the bitterness of his reproaches against the Church by a few soft words, he reserves all that is noble, grand, and generous for the ideas which produced the Reformation, and throws on the Church all the shadows of the picture.
While acknowledging that the principal cause of Protestantism is to be found in the human mind, it is easy to abstain from these unjust comparisons; and M. Guizot might have avoided the inconsistency to which we have alluded. He might have discovered the origin of the fact in the character of the human mind; he might, at the same time, have shown the greatness and importance of it, while simply explaining the nature and position of the societies in which it appeared. In fine, he might have observed that it was no extraordinary effort, but a mere repetition of what has happened in every age; and a phenomenon, the character of which depended on the particular state of the atmosphere in which it was produced.
This way of considering Protestantism as an ordinary event, increased and developed by the circumstances in which it arose, appears to me to be as philosophical as it is little attended to. I shall support it by another observation, which will supply us with reasons and examples at the same time.
The state of modern society for three hundred years has been such, that all the events that have occurred have acquired a character of generalization, and consequently an importance, which distinguishes them from all the events of a similar kind which occurred at other times and in a different social state. If we examine the history of antiquity, we shall see that all the events therein occurring were isolated in some sort from each other; this was what rendered them less beneficial when they were good, and less injurious when they were bad. Carthage, Rome, Sparta, Athens, all these nations more or less advanced in the career of civilization, each followed its own path, and progressed in a different way. Ideas, manners, political constitutions, succeeded each other, without our being able to perceive any influence of the ideas of one nation on those of another, or of the manners of one nation on those of another; we do not find any evidence of a tendency to bring nations to one common centre.
We also remark that, except when forced to intermix, ancient nations could be a long time in close proximity without losing their peculiarities, or suffering any important change by the contact.
Observe how different is the state of things in Europe in modern times. A revolution in one country affects all others; an idea sent forth from the schools agitates nations and alarms governments. Nothing is isolated, every thing is general, and acquires by expansion a terrible force. It is impossible to study the history of one nation without seeing all the others make their appearance on the stage; and we cannot study the history of a science or an art without discovering a thousand connections with objects which do not belong to science or to art.
All nations are connected, objects are assimilated, relations increase. The affairs of one nation are interesting to all the others, and they wish to take part in them. This is the reason why the idea of non-intervention in politics is, and always will be, impracticable; it is, indeed, natural for us to interfere in that in which we are interested.
These examples, although taken from things of a different kind, appear to me very well calculated to illustrate my idea of the religious events of that period. Protestantism, it is true, is thereby stripped of the philosophic mantle by which it has been covered from its infancy; it loses all right to be considered as full of foresight, magnificent projects, and high destinies, from its cradle, but I do not see that its importance and extent are thereby diminished; the fact itself, in a word, is unimpaired, but the real cause of the imposing aspect in which it has presented itself to the world is explained.
Every thing, in this point of view, is seen in its just dimensions; individuals are scarcely perceived, and abuses appear only what they really are opportunities and pretexts; vast plans, lofty and generous ideas, and efforts at independence of mind, are only gratuitous suppositions. Thence ambition, war, the rivalry of kings, take their position as causes more or less influential, but always in the second rank. All the causes are estimated at their real value; in fine, the principal causes being once pointed out, it is acknowledged that the fact was sure to be accompanied in its development by a multitude of subordinate agents. There remains still an important question in this matter, viz. what was the cause of the hatred, or rather the feeling of exasperation, on the part of sectarians against Rome? Was it owing to some great abuse, some great wrong on the part of Rome? There is but one answer to make, viz. that in a storm, the waves always dash with fury against the immovable rock which resists them.
So far from attributing to abuses all the influence which has been assigned to them on the birth and development of Protestantism, I am convinced, on the contrary, that all imaginable legitimate reforms, and the greatest degree of willingness on the part of the Church authorities to comply with every exigence, would not have been able to prevent that unhappy event.
He has paid little attention to the extreme inconstancy and fickleness of the human mind, and studied its history to little purpose, who does not recognise in the event of the sixteenth century one of those great calamities which God alone can avert by a special intervention of his providence.5