Protestantism and Catholicity

CHAPTER XXXIV.

ON TOLERATION IN RELIGIOUS MATTERS

The question of the improvement of manners, treated in the preceding chapters, naturally leads me to another, sufficiently thorny in itself, and rendered still more so by innumerable prejudices. I allude to toleration in matters of religion. The word Catholicity, to certain persons, is the synonyme of intolerance; and the confusion of ideas on this point has become such, that no more laborious task can be undertaken than to clear them up. It is only necessary to pronounce the word intolerance, to raise in the minds of some people all sorts of black and horrible ideas. Legislation, institutions, and men of past times, all are condemned without appeal, the moment there is seen the slightest appearance of intolerance. More than one cause contributes to this universal prejudice. Yet, if called upon to point out the principal one, we would repeat the profound maxim of Cato, who, when accused at the age of eighty-six of certain offences of his past life, committed at times long gone by, said, "It is difficult to render an account of one's own conduct to men belonging to an age different from that in which one has lived." There are some things of which one cannot accurately judge without, not only a knowledge of them, but also a complete appreciation of the times when they occurred. How many men are capable of attaining to this? There are few who are able to succeed in freeing their minds from the influence of the atmosphere which surrounds them; but there are fewer still who can do the same with their hearts. The age in which we live is precisely the reverse of the ages of intolerance; and this is the first difficulty which meets us in discussing questions of this kind. The prejudice and bad faith of some who have applied themselves to this subject, have contributed also in a considerable degree to erroneous opinions. There is nothing in the world which cannot be undervalued by showing only one side of it; for thus considered, all things are false, or rather are not themselves. All bodies have three dimensions; only to look at one is not to form an idea of the body itself, but of a quantity very different from it. Take any institution, the most just and useful that can be imagined, then all the inconveniences and evils which it has caused, taking care to bring together into a few pages what in reality was spread over a great many ages; then your history will be disgusting, hideous, and worthy of execration. Let a partisan of democracy describe to you in a narrow compass, and by means of historical facts, all the inconveniences and evils of monarchy, the vices and the crimes of kings; how will monarchy then appear to you? But let a partisan of monarchy paint to you, in his turn, by the same method of historical facts, democracy and demagogues; and what will you then think of democracy? Assemble in one picture all the evils occasioned to nations by a high degree of development of the social state; civilization and refinement will then appear detestable. By seeking and selecting in the annals of the human mind certain traits, the history of science may be made the history of folly, and even of crime. By heaping together the fatal accidents that have occurred to masters of the healing art, their beneficent profession may be represented as a career of homicide. In a word, every thing may be falsified by proceeding in this way. God himself would appear to us as a monster of cruelty and tyranny, if, taking away his goodness, wisdom, and justice, we only attended to the evils which we see in a world created by his power and governed by his providence.

Having laid down these principles, let us apply them. The spirit of the age, particular circumstances, and an order of things quite different from ours, are all forgotten, and the history of the religious intolerance of Catholics is composed by taking care to condense into a few pages, and paint in the blackest colours, the severity of Ferdinand and Isabella, of Philip II., of Mary of England, of Louis XIV., and every thing of the kind that occurred during three centuries. The reader who receives, almost at the same moment, the impression of events which occurred during a period of three hundred years, – the reader, accustomed to live in society where prisons are being converted into houses of recreation, and where the punishment of death is vigorously opposed, can he behold the appearance of darksome dungeons, the instruments of punishment, the san-benitos and scaffolds, without being deeply moved? He will bewail the unfortunate lot of those who perish; he will be indignant against the authors of what he calls horrible atrocities. Nothing has been said to this candid reader of the principles and conduct of Protestants at the same time; he has not been reminded of the cruelty of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth of England. Thus all his hatred is directed against Catholics, and he is accustomed to regard Catholicity as a religion of tyranny and blood. But will a judgment thus formed be just? Will this be a sentence passed with a full knowledge of the cause? What would impartiality direct us to do, if we met with a dark picture, painted in the way we have described, of monarchy, democracy, or civilization, of science, or of the healing art? What we should do, or rather what we ought to do, is to extend our view further, to examine the subject in its different phases; to inquire into its good as well as its evil: this would be to look upon these evils as they really are, that is, spread at great distances over the course of centuries; this would weaken the impression they had made upon us: in a word, we should thus be just, we should take the balance in hand to weigh the good and evil, to compare the one with the other, as we ought always to do when we have duly to appreciate things in the history of humanity. In the case in question, we should act in the same way, in order to provide against the error into which we may be led by the false statements and exaggerations of certain men, whose evident intention it has been to falsify facts by representing only one side of them. The Inquisition no longer exists, and assuredly there is no probability of its being re-established; the severe laws in force on this matter in former times no longer exist; they are either abrogated or they are fallen into desuetude: no one, therefore, has an interest in representing this institution in a false point of view. It may be imagined that some men had an interest in this while they were engaged in destroying their ancient laws, but that once attained, the Inquisition and its laws are become a historical fact, which ought to be examined here with attention and impartiality. We have here two questions, that of principle, and that of its application; in other words, that of intolerance, and that of the manner of showing it. We must not confound these two things, which, although very closely connected, are very different. I shall begin with the first.

The principle of universal toleration is now proclaimed, and all kind of intolerance is condemned without appeal. But who takes care to examine the real meaning of these words? who undertakes to analyze the ideas which they contain by the light of reason, and explain them by means of history and experience? Very few. They are pronounced mechanically; they are constantly employed to establish propositions of the highest importance, without even the suspicion that they contain ideas, the right or wrong comprehension and application of which is every thing for the preservation of society. Few persons consider that these words include questions as profound as they are delicate, and the whole of a large portion of history; very few observe that, according to one solution given to the problem of toleration, all the past is condemned, and all the present overturned; nothing is left thereby to build on for the future but a moving bed of sand. Certainly, the most convenient way in such a case is, to adopt and employ these words such as we already find them in circulation, in the same way as we take and circulate the current coin, without considering whether it be composed of alloy or not. But what is the most convenient is not always the most useful; and, as when receiving coins of value, we carefully examine them, so we ought to weigh words the meaning of which is of such paramount importance. Toleration – what is the meaning of this word? It means, properly speaking, the patience with which we suffer a thing which we judge to be bad, but which we think it desirable not to punish. Thus, some kinds of scandals are tolerated; prostitutes are tolerated; such and such abuses are tolerated; so that the idea of toleration is always accompanied by the idea of evil. When toleration is exercised in the order of ideas, it always supposes a misunderstanding, or error. No one will say that he tolerates the truth. We have an observation to make here. The phrase to tolerate opinions is commonly used: now, opinion is very different from error. At first sight, the difficulty appears great; but if we examine the thing well, we shall be able to explain it. When we say that we tolerate an opinion, we always mean an opinion contrary to our own. In this case, the opinion of another is, according to us, an error; for it is impossible to have an opinion on any point whatever – that is, to think that a thing is or is not, is in one way or in another – without thinking at the same time that those who judge otherwise are deceived. If our opinion is only an opinion – that is, if our judgment, although based on reasons which appear to us to be good, has not attained to a degree of complete certainty – our judgment of another will be only a mere opinion; but if our conviction has become completely established and confirmed – that is, if it has attained to certainty – we shall be sure that those who form a judgment opposed to ours are deceived. Thence it follows, that the word toleration, applied to opinions, always means the toleration of an error. He who says, yes, thinks no is false; and he who says, no, thinks yes is a mistake. This is only an application of the well-known principle, that it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be at the same time. But, we shall be asked, What do you mean when you use these words, 'to respect opinions?' is it always understood that we respect errors? No; for these words can have two different and equally reasonable meanings. The first is founded on the feebleness of the conviction of the person from whom the respect comes. When on any particular point we have only just formed an opinion, it is understood that we have not reached certainty; consequently, we know that there are reasons on the other side. In this sense, we may well say that we respect the opinions of others: we express thereby our conviction that it is possible that we are deceived – that it is possible the truth is not on our side. In the second meaning, to respect opinions is to respect, sometimes those who profess them, sometimes their good faith, sometimes their intentions. Thus, when we say that we respect prejudices, it is clear that we do not mean a real respect professed in this place. We see thus, that the expression 'to respect the opinions of others' has a very different meaning, according as the person from whom the respect comes has or has not assured convictions in the contrary sense.

In order the better to understand what toleration is, what its origin and its effects, it is necessary, before we examine it in society, to reduce it to its simplest element. Let us analyze toleration considered in the individual. An individual is called tolerant, when he is habitually in a disposition of mind to bear without irritation or disturbance opinions contrary to his own. This toleration will bear different names, according to the different matters to which it relates. In religious matters, tolerance as well as intolerance may be found in those who have religion as well as in those who have none; so that neither of these situations, with respect to religion, necessarily implies the one or the other. Some people imagine that tolerance is peculiar to the incredulous, and intolerance to the religious; but they are mistaken. Who is more tolerant than St. Francis de Sales? who more intolerant than Voltaire?

Tolerance in religious men – that tolerance which does not come from want of faith, and which is not inconsistent with an ardent zeal for the preservation and propagation of the faith – is born of two principles, charity and humility. Charity, which makes us love all men, even our greatest enemies; charity, which inspires us with compassion for their faults and errors, and obliges us to regard them as brothers, to employ all the means in our power to withdraw them from being fatally deceived; charity, which forbids us ever to regard them as deprived of the hope of salvation as long as they live. Rousseau has said, that "it is impossible to live in peace with those that one believes to be damned." We do not, and we cannot, believe in the condemnation of any man as long as he lives; however great may be his iniquity, the mercy of God and the value of the blood of Jesus Christ are still greater. We are so far from thinking with the philosopher of Geneva, "that to love such people would be to hate God," that no one could maintain such a doctrine among us without ceasing to belong to our faith. The other source of tolerance is Christian humility: humility, which inspires us with a profound sense of our weakness, and makes us consider all that we have as given by God; humility, which makes us consider our advantages over our neighbor as so many more powerful motives for acknowledging the liberality of Providence; humility, which, placing before our eyes the spectacle of humanity in its proper light, makes us regard ourselves and all others as members of the great family of the human race, fallen from its ancient dignity by the sin of our first parent; humility, which shows us the perverse inclinations of our hearts, the darkness of our minds, and the claims which man has to pity and indulgence in his faults and errors; humility, that virtue sublime even in its abasement. "If humility is so pleasing to God," is the admirable observation of St. Theresa, "it is because it is the truth." This is the virtue which renders us indulgent towards all men, by never allowing us to forget that we ourselves, perhaps, more than any others, have need of indulgence.

Yet for a man to be tolerant, in the full extent of the word, it is not enough for him to be humble and charitable; this is a truth which experience teaches and reason explains to us. In order perfectly to clear up a point, the obscurity of which produces the confusion which almost always prevails in these questions, let us make a comparison between two men equally religious, whose principles are the same, but whose conduct is very different. Let us suppose two priests both distinguished for learning and eminent virtue. The one has passed his life in retirement, surrounded by pious persons, and having no intercourse with any but Catholics: the other has been a missionary in countries where different religions are established, he has been obliged to live and converse with men of creeds different from his own; he has been under the necessity of witnessing the establishment of temples of a false religion close to those of the true one. The principles of Christian charity will be the same with both these priests; both will look upon faith as a gift of God, which he has received, and must preserve; their conduct, however, will be very different, if they meet with a man of a faith different from their own, or of none at all. The first, who, never having had intercourse with any but the faithful, has always heard religion spoken of with respect, will be horrified, will be indignant, at the first word he shall hear against the faith or ceremonies of the Church; it will be impossible, or nearly so, for him to remain calm during a conversation or discussion on the question: the second, accustomed to such things, to hear his faith impugned, to dispute with men of creeds opposed to his own, will remain tranquil; he will engage in a discussion with coolness, if it be necessary; he will skilfully avoid one, if prudence shall advise such a course. Whence comes this difference? It is not difficult to discover. The second of these priests, by intercourse with men, by experience, by contradiction, has obtained a clear notion of the real condition of men's minds in the world; he is aware of the fatal combination of circumstances which has led a great number of unfortunate persons into error, and keeps them there; he knows how, in some measure, to put himself in their place; and the more lively is his sense of the benefit conferred upon him by Providence, the more mild and indulgent he is towards others. The other may be as virtuous, as charitable, and as humble as you please; but how can you expect of him that he will not be deeply moved, and give utterance to his indignation, the first time that he hears that denied which he has always believed with the most lively faith? He has up to this time met with no opposition in the world, but a few arguments in books. Certainly he was not ignorant that there existed heretics and unbelievers, but he has not frequently met with them, he has not heard them state their hundred different systems, and he has not witnessed the erroneous creeds of men of all sorts, of different characters, and the most varied minds; the lively susceptibility of his mind, which has never met with resistance, has not been blunted; for this reason, although endowed with the same virtues, and, if you will, with the same knowledge as the other, he has not acquired that penetration, that vivacity, so to speak, with which a man of practised intellect enters into the minds of those with whom he has to deal, discerns the reasons, seizes the motives which blind them and hinder them from obtaining a knowledge of the truth.

Thus tolerance, in a person who is religious, supposes a certain degree of gentleness of mind, the fruit of intercourse with men, and the habits thereby engendered; yet this quality is consistent with the deepest conviction, and the purest and most ardent zeal for the propagation of the truth. In the moral, as in the physical world, friction polishes, use wears away, and nothing can remain for a long time in an attitude of violence. A man will be indignant, once, twice, a hundred times, when he hears his manner of thinking attacked; but it is impossible for him to remain so always; he will, in the end, become accustomed to opposition; he will, by habit, bear it calmly. However sacred may be his articles of belief, he will content himself with defending and putting them forward at convenient opportunities; in all other cases, he will keep them in the bottom of his soul, as a treasure which he is desirous to preserve from any thing that may injure them. Tolerance, then, does not suppose any new principles in a man, but rather a quality acquired by practice; a disposition of mind, into which a man finds himself insensibly led; a habit of patience, formed in him by constantly having to bear with what he disapproves of.

Now, if we consider tolerance in men who are not religious, we shall observe that there are two ways of being irreligious. There are men who not only have no religion, but who have an animosity against it, either on account of some fatal error they entertain, or because they find it an obstacle to their designs. These men are extremely intolerant; and their intolerance is the worst of all, because it is not accompanied by any moral principle which can restrain it. A man thus circumstanced feels himself, as it were, continually at war with himself and the human race; with himself, because he must stifle the cries of his own conscience: with the human race, because all protest against the mad doctrine that pretends to banish the worship of God from the earth. Therefore we find among men of this kind much rancor and spleen; therefore their words are full of gall; therefore they have constantly recourse to raillery, insult, and calumny.

But there is another class of men who, although devoid of religion, are not strongly prejudiced against the faith. They live in a kind of skepticism, into which the reading of bad books, or the observations of a superficial and frivolous philosophy, have led them; they are not attached to religion, but they are not its enemies. Many of them acknowledge the importance of religion for the good of society, and some of them even feel within themselves a certain desire to return to the faith; in their moments of recollection and meditation, they remember with pleasure the days when they offered to God an obedient spirit and a pure heart; and at the sight of the rapid course of life, they perhaps love to cherish the hope of becoming reconciled with the God of their fathers, before they descend into the grave. These men are tolerant; but, if carefully examined, their tolerance is not a principle or a virtue, it is only a necessity resulting from their position. It is difficult to be indignant at the opinions of others, when we have none of our own – when, consequently, we do not come into collision with any. It is difficult to be violently opposed to religion, when we consider it as a thing necessary for the welfare of society; there can be no hatred or rancor towards faith in a soul which desires its mercy, and which, perhaps, fixes its eyes upon it as the last beam of hope amid the terrors of an alarming future. Tolerance, in this case, is nothing strange; it is natural and necessary. Intolerance would be inconceivable and extravagant, and could arise only from a bad heart.