CHAPTER XXVIII.

OF THE PUBLIC CONSCIENCE IN GENERAL.

When enumerating, in the twentieth chapter, the characteristics which mark European civilization, I pointed out, as one of them, "an admirable public conscience, rich in sublime maxims of morality, in rules of justice and equity, in sentiments of honor and dignity, a conscience which survives the shipwreck of private morality, and does not allow the open corruption to go so far as it did in ancient times." We must now explain more at length in what this public conscience consists, what is its origin, what are its results, showing at the same time what share Catholicity and Protestantism have had in its formation. This delicate and important question is, I will venture to say, untouched; at least I do not know that it has yet been attempted. Men constantly speak of the excellence of Christian morality, and on this point all the sects, all the schools of Europe are agreed; but they do not pay sufficient attention to the way in which that morality has become predominant, by first destroying Pagan corruption, then by maintaining itself for centuries in spite of the ravages of infidelity, so as to form an admirable public conscience; a benefit which we now enjoy without appreciating it as we ought, and without even thinking of it. In order fully to comprehend this matter, it is above all necessary to form a clear idea of what is meant by conscience. Conscience in the general, or rather ideological sense of the word, means the knowledge which each man has of his own acts. Thus we say that the soul is conscious of its thoughts, of the acts of its will, and of its sensations; so that the word conscience, taken in this sense, expresses a perception of what we do and feel. Applied to the moral order, this word signifies the judgment which we ourselves form of our actions as good or evil. Thus, when we are about to perform an action, conscience points it out to us as good or bad, and consequently lawful or unlawful; and it thus directs our conduct. The action being performed, it tells us whether we have done well or ill, it excuses or condemns us, it rewards us with peace of mind, or punishes us with remorse.

This explanation being given, we shall easily understand what is meant by public conscience; it is nothing but the judgment formed of their actions by the generality of men. It results from this that, like private conscience, the public conscience may be right or wrong, strict or relaxed; and that there must be differences on this point among societies of men, the same as there are among individuals; that is to say, that, as in the same society we find men whose consciences are more or less right or wrong, more or less strict or relaxed, we must also find societies superior to others in the justice of the judgment which they form on actions, and in the delicacy of their moral appreciation.

If we observe closely, we shall see that individual conscience is the result of widely different causes. It is an error to suppose that conscience resides solely in the intelligence; it is also rooted in the heart. It is a judgment, it is true; but we judge of things in a very different way according to the manner in which we feel them. Add to this, that the feelings have an immense influence on moral ideas and actions; the result is, that conscience is formed under the influence of all the causes which forcibly act on our hearts. Communicate to two children the same moral principles, by teaching them from the same book and under the same master; but suppose that one in his own family sees what he is taught constantly practised, while the other sees there nothing but indifference to it; suppose, moreover, that these two children grow up with the same moral and religious conviction, so that as far as the intellect is concerned there is no difference between them; nevertheless, do you believe that their judgment of the morality of actions will be the same? By no means; and why? Because the one has only convictions, while the other has also feelings. In the one, the doctrine enlightens the mind; while, in the other, example engraves it constantly on the heart. Thus what one regards with indifference, the other looks upon with horror; what the one does with negligence, the other performs with the greatest care; and the same subject that to one is of slight interest, is to the other of the highest importance.

Public conscience, which, in fact, is the sum of private consciences, is subject to the same influences as they are; so that mere instruction is not enough for it, and it requires the concurrence of other causes to act on the heart, as well as the mind. When we compare Christian with pagan society, we instantly see that the former must be infinitely superior to the latter on this point; not only on account of the purity of its morality, and the strength of the principles and motives sanctioning it, but also because it follows the wise course of continually inculcating this morality, and impressing it strongly on the mind by constant repetition. By this constant repetition of the same truths, Christianity has done what other religions never could do; none of them, indeed, have ever succeeded in organizing and putting into practice so important a system. But I have said enough on this point in the fourteenth chapter; it is useless to repeat it here; I pass on to some observations on the public conscience in Europe.

It cannot be denied that, generally speaking, reason and justice prevail in that public conscience. If you examine laws and actions, you will not find those shocking acts of injustice or those revolting immoralities which are to be met with among other nations. There are certainly evils, and very grave ones, but they are at least acknowledged, and called by their right names. We do not hear good called evil, or evil good; that is to say, society, in certain things, is like those persons of good principles and bad morals who are the first to acknowledge that their conduct is blamable, and that their words and deeds contradict each other. We often lament the corruption of morals, the profligacy of our large towns; but what is all the corruption and profligacy of modern society compared with the debauchery of the ancients? It certainly cannot be denied that there is a fearful extent of dissoluteness in some of the capitals of Europe. The records of the police, as well as those of the benevolent establishments where the fruits of crime are received, show shocking demoralization. In the highest classes dreadful ravages are caused by conjugal infidelity, and all sorts of dissipation and disorder; yet these excesses are very far from reaching the extent which they did among the best-governed nations of antiquity, the Greeks and Romans. So that our society, which we so bitterly lament, would have appeared to them a model of modesty and decorum. Need we call to mind the infamous vices then so common and so public, and which have scarcely a name among us now, whether it be because they are so rarely committed, or because the fear of public conscience forces them to hide themselves in the dark places, and, so to speak, in the bowels of the earth? Need we recall to mind the infamies which stain the writings of the ancients as often as they describe the manners of their times? Names illustrious in science and in arms have passed down to posterity with stains so black that we cannot consent to describe them. Now, how corrupt must have been the state of the other classes, when such degradation was attributed to men who, by their elevated positions or other circumstances, were the lights of society!

You talk of the avarice which is so prevalent now-a-days; but look at the usurers of antiquity who sucked the blood of the people everywhere; read the satirical poets, and you will see what was the state of manners on this point; consult, in fine, the annals of the Church, and you will see what pains she took to diminish the effects of this vice; read the history of ancient Rome, and you will find the _cursed thirst for gold_, and lenders without mercy, who, after having impudently robbed, carried in triumph the fruits of their rapine to live with scandalous ostentation, and buy votes again to raise them to command. No, in European civilization, among nations taught and elevated by Christianity, such evils would not be long tolerated. If we suppose administrative disorder, tyranny, and corruption of morals carried as far as you please, still public opinion would raise its voice and frown on the oppressors. Partial injustice may be committed, but rapine will never be formed into a shameless system, or be regarded as the rule of government. Rely upon it, the words _justice_, _morality_, _humanity_, which constantly resound in our midst, are not vain words; this language produces great results; it destroys immense evils. These ideas impregnate the atmosphere we breathe; they frequently restrain the arm of criminals, and resist with incredible force materialistic and utilitarian doctrines; they continue to exert an incalculable influence on society. We have among us a feeling of morality which mollifies and governs all; which is so powerful that vice is compelled to assume the appearance of virtue, and cover itself with many veils, in order to escape becoming the subject of public execration.

Modern society, it would seem, ought to have inherited the corruption of the old, since it was formed out of its ruins, at a time when its morals were most dissolute. We must observe, that the irruption of the barbarians, far from improving society, contributed, on the contrary, to make it worse; and this, not only on account of the corruption belonging to their fierce and brutal manners, but also on account of the disorder introduced among the nations they invaded, by violating laws, throwing their manners and customs into confusion, and destroying all authority. Whence it follows, that the improvement of public opinion among modern nations is a very singular fact; and that this progress can only be attributed to the influence of the active and energetic principle which has existed in the bosom of Europe for so many centuries.

Let us observe the conduct of the Church on this point--it is perhaps one of the most important facts in the history of the middle ages. Imagine an age when corruption and injustice most unblushingly raised their heads, and you will see that, however impure and disgusting the fact may be, the law is always pure; that is to say, that reason and justice always found some one to proclaim them, even when they appeared to be listened to by nobody. The state of ignorance was the darkest, licentious passions were uncontrolled; but the instructions and admonitions of the Church were never wanting; it is thus that, amidst the darkest night, the lighthouse shines from afar, to guide the mariners in safety.

When in reading the history of the Church we see on all sides assembled councils proclaiming the principles of the gospel morality, while at every step we meet with the most scandalous proceedings; when we constantly hear inculcated the laws which are so often trodden under foot, it is natural to ask, of what use was all this, and of what benefit were instructions thus unheeded? Let us not believe that these proclamations were useless, nor lose courage if we have to wait long for their fruits.

A principle which is proclaimed for a long time in society will in the end acquire influence; if it is true, and consequently contains an element of life, it will prevail in the end over all that opposes it, and will rule over all around it. Allow, then, the truth to speak--allow it to protest continually; this will prevent the prescription of vice. Thus vice will preserve its proper name; and you will prevent misguided men from deifying their passions, and placing them on their altars after having adored them in their hearts. Be confident that this protest will not be useless. Truth in the end will be victorious and triumphant; for the protests of truth are the voice of God condemning the usurpations of His creatures. This is what really happened; Christian morality, first contending with the corrupt manners of the empire, and afterwards with the brutality of the barbarians, had for centuries rude shocks to sustain; but at last it triumphed over all, and succeeded in governing legislation and public morals. We do not mean to say that it succeeded in raising law and morals to the degree of perfection which the purity of the gospel morality required, but at least it did away the most shocking injustice; it banished the most savage customs; it restrained the license of the most shameless manners; it everywhere gave vice its proper name; it painted it in its real colors, and prevented its being deified as impudently as it was among the ancients. In modern times, it has had to contend against the school which proclaims that private interest is the only principle of morals; it has not been able, it is true, to prevent this fatal doctrine from causing great evils, but at least it has sensibly diminished them. Unhappy for the world will be the day when men shall say without disguise, "_My own advantage is my virtue_; _my honor is what is useful to myself_; _all is good or evil, according as it is pleasing or displeasing to me_." Unhappy for the world will be the day when such language will no longer be repudiated by public conscience. The opportunity now presenting itself, and wishing to explain so important a matter as fully as possible, I will make some observations on an opinion of Montesquieu respecting the censors of Greece and Rome. This digression will not be foreign to the purpose.