The Influence of Religious Faith upon Civil Government
By J. O. CORLISS
MANY and strange have been the earlier forms of civil government. Indeed, some phases of mediæval rule have been such as almost to challenge our utmost range of credulity. It mattered not what religious sentiment happened to lodge in the brains of leading churchmen of the time, that was quickly formulated into law, and imposed upon all subjects, as fundamental to the protection of life and property. Believing in the “divine right of kings,” as did the people of that age, to rule absolutely over men, they most naturally extended this “right” to their guidance in religious as well as in civil matters. In fact, so little distinction was observed between temporal and spiritual relations, that to most people these amounted to one and the same thing. It will not do to attribute this state of affairs wholly to ignorance; for some of the most ingenious arguments were adduced to maintain such order. Besides, magnifying-glasses are not necessary to discover in our own day those who, with all the advantages of scholastic opportunity, are earnestly advocating the same principles, by somewhat different, yet by more specious lines of logic. Considering how strongly the sentiment of the divine right of kings had permeated human reasoning, it can not be thought so strange that Louis XIV announced from his throne, without fear of defiance, “I am the state.” Consequently this monarch permitted himself to be addressed by idolizing courtiers as Le roi soleil, which means the sun-king. Such hedging about of absolute monarchy with this added dignity, could not fail to lead into distasteful extremes, and sooner or later bring about constrained reaction. Much the same sentiment was rife in England at that time, with the same results. As the great earthquake of the French Revolution, a century and a half later, tore away the mask of rule by divine right, so the Cromwellian era brought to the English nation a brief respite from this soul-destroying theory. Early in the reign of Charles I, opposition to his persecution of the Puritans and the parliament became quite manifest. The question raised took this form: “Who is sovereign of England, parliament or the king?” Notwithstanding that a renewal of magna charta was obtained in 1628, nine years later the king attempted to force upon the Presbyterians of Scotland the use of the Episcopal prayer-book, and the practises of that communion as followed in England. The Scots rose as one man in rebellion against such an innovation. They drew up a national oath, or covenant, by which they pledged themselves to resist to the utmost every attempt to change their religion. War was therefore declared against the recalcitrant Scots, and was won by the Presbyterian Covenanters. Out of the confusion rose Cromwell, a staunch Puritan, who, while opposing the intolerance of England against Covenanters and Puritans, sought to establish a government which would tolerate every belief but the papacy. While constantly affirming that every man ought to be a Christian, and that he ought to be allowed to worship God after his own fashion, Cromwell and his adherents were so short sighted as to see no obligation in civil government, beyond protecting any religion but that of Protestantism. For a time this principle was permitted to include Episcopalians, as well as Presbyterians and Puritans, but so fierce did the religious temper of those times become, that when Episcopalians antagonized Puritanical desires, Cromwell was led to persecute all who held to the Book of Common Prayer. As an example of how far unchecked religious prejudice may carry one beyond the pale of humanity, let us for a moment view Cromwell’s attitude toward the Irish. Near the close of Elizabeth’s reign, an Irish chief named O’Neill, of a northern tribe, led a violent rebellion, which was finally smothered by James I in the early part of the seventeenth century. To celebrate the control thus gained over these insurgents, the king confiscated six counties, in the province of Ulster, and gave them over to English and Scotch colonists. The Irish thus crowded out of home and country, felt toward the English as only bitterly oppressed people can feel toward their oppressors. This was in 1610. Later when the trouble arose between King Charles and his parliament, the Irish fell upon the colonists of Ulster, and murdered all who did not flee before them. The revenge for this act was necessarily delayed until after the murder of Charles, when Cromwell, invested with power, undertook to reconquer Ireland in 1649. His confession reveals that in carrying out his purpose he shed blood “like a common butcher.” Apart from religious considerations, it would be hard to understand why such severe measures were thought necessary. It must be remembered, however, that to a Puritan the Irish were not only national enemies, but being papists, were also enemies of the true faith. As such every Irishman was regarded as standing outside of the law of humanity. The immediate result of this religious fury was the confiscation, for the benefit of the English, of three of the four provinces of Ireland,—Ulster, Leinster, and Munster. Following the battle of the Boyne in 1690, more territory was confiscated, until the Irish became a “landless people on their own soil.” Through succeeding merciless acts of parliament, the people of Erin were gradually reduced to mere tenants, day-laborers, and beggars, and thus they have in a large measure remained to this day, as the legitimate outcome of religious intolerance. This paper is already too far advanced to notice the insidious steps by which these consequences were reached. But suffice it to say that, so insistent was religious emotion in controlling civil rulers, that when Charles II, under the lead of Louis XIV, embraced Catholicism, he dared not announce his sentiment in the ear of parliament, but hypocritically posed before that body as an Episcopalian. Henry of Navarre, a Protestant by birth and custom, until his progress to the throne of France was debarred thereby, solemnly abjured his religion, and, as a purely political matter, united with the Catholic faith. “Paris is well worth a mass,” was the comment he tendered his friends in explanation of his conduct. The historian artlessly remarks that “under these circumstances, since his Protestantism and his Catholicism were morally of equal value, it was perhaps wholly a wise thing to drop the religious pretense, which alone separated his country from a desired peace.” However this may be, it still remains to be seen that religious beliefs controlled civil governments in their actions then, to the detriment of men’s consciences. Should the same influence mark the control of modern civil government, would not the result be the same? Since human nature is the same in all ages, what could possibly hinder the repetition of this history? Already there may be seen omens of the return of mediæval methods in governmental affairs. But let those who know the history of past religious legislation beware, lest they encourage its growth in these later days.