Part IV, Chapter XLVII, 2

But as human inventions are woven together, so they can be unraveled: the path is the same, but the order reversed. The web begins with the first elements of power: the wisdom, humility, sincerity, and other virtues of the apostles, whom the people they converted obeyed out of reverence, not obligation. Their consciences were free, and their words and actions subject to none but civil power. Later, as Christ’s flocks grew, the presbyters assembled to consider what they should teach, binding themselves to teach nothing contrary to the decrees of their assemblies. This gave rise to the belief that the people were thereby bound to follow their doctrine; and when people refused, the presbyters refused to associate with them—what was then called excommunication—not as unbelievers, but as disobedient people. This was the first knot tied in their liberty. As the number of presbyters grew, those of the chief city or province gained authority over parish presbyters and reserved for themselves the name bishops. That was a second knot in Christian liberty. Lastly, the bishop of Rome, by virtue of his imperial city, assumed authority over all the empire’s other bishops—partly by the emperors’ own choice and under the title Pontifex Maximus, and ultimately, when the emperors grew weak, through the privileges of St. Peter. That was the third and final knot, completing the construction of papal power.

Its analysis or dissolution therefore proceeds along the same path, beginning with the knot tied last, as we can see in the dissolution of church government outside the civil constitution in England.

First, Queen Elizabeth entirely dissolved the popes’ power. Bishops who had previously exercised their functions by the pope’s right now exercised them by the right of the queen and her successors, although their retention of the phrase jure divino made people think they claimed their authority directly from God. Thus the first knot was untied. Later, the Presbyterians in England succeeded in abolishing the office of bishop, and the second knot came loose. Almost at the same time, power was taken from the Presbyterians as well. We have thus returned to the independence of the earliest Christians: each may follow Paul, or Cephas, or Apollos, as he likes best. Provided this happens without contention and without measuring Christ’s doctrine by our affection for his minister—the fault the apostle rebuked in the Corinthians—it is perhaps the best arrangement. First, because nothing ought to have power over human consciences but the Word itself, which works faith in each person, not always according to the purpose of those who plant and water, but according to God himself, who gives the increase. Second, because it is unreasonable for those who teach that every little error is so dangerous to demand that a person endowed with reason of his own follow another man’s reason, or the vote of the majority; that is scarcely better than staking his salvation on a coin toss. Nor should those teachers resent the loss of their former authority. For no one should know better than they that power is preserved by the virtues by which it is won: wisdom, humility, clarity of doctrine, and sincerity of life. It is not preserved by suppressing the natural sciences or the morality of natural reason; nor by obscure language; nor by claiming more knowledge than they show; nor by pious frauds; nor by other faults that, in pastors of God’s Church, are not only faults but scandals likely, sooner or later, to trip people into casting off their authority.

But once the world accepted the doctrine “that the Church now militant is the Kingdom of God spoken of in the Old and New Testament,” ambition and competition for its offices—above all the great office of Christ’s lieutenant—and the pomp of those who attained its chief public posts grew so conspicuous that they gradually lost the inward reverence due to pastoral service. The wisest people with power in the civil state needed only their princes’ authority to refuse them any further obedience. For from the time the bishop of Rome gained recognition as universal bishop under the pretext of succession to St. Peter, their whole hierarchy, or Kingdom of Darkness, may aptly be compared to the kingdom of fairies: the old wives’ tales in England about ghosts and spirits and their exploits by night. Anyone considering the origin of this great ecclesiastical dominion will readily see that the papacy is nothing other than the ghost of the dead Roman Empire, sitting crowned upon its grave. It rose suddenly from the ruins of that pagan power.

Their language in churches and public proceedings is Latin, a language no nation now commonly speaks. What is it but the ghost of the old Roman language?

The fairies, in whatever nation they dwell, have only one universal king, called by some of our poets King Oberon, but by Scripture Beelzebub, prince of demons. The ecclesiastics too, wherever their dominions lie, acknowledge only one universal king: the pope.

The ecclesiastics are spiritual men and ghostly fathers. Fairies are spirits and ghosts. Fairies and ghosts live in darkness, lonely places, and graves. Ecclesiastics move through obscurity of doctrine, monasteries, churches, and churchyards.

The ecclesiastics have their cathedral churches, which, in whatever towns they are raised, have the power, by holy water and certain spells called exorcisms, to make those towns into cities—that is, seats of empire. The fairies too have enchanted castles and gigantic ghosts that rule the lands around them.

Fairies cannot be seized and made to answer for the harm they do. So too ecclesiastics vanish from the courts of civil justice.

Ecclesiastics deprive young men of their reason with spells compounded of metaphysics, miracles, traditions, and misused Scripture, so that they are fit for nothing but carrying out the clergy’s commands. Fairies likewise are said to take young children from their cradles and turn them into natural fools, whom ordinary people therefore call elves, apt to do mischief.

The old wives have not established in which workshop fairies practice their enchantment. But the clergy’s workshops are well known: the universities that received their discipline from papal authority.

When fairies are displeased with anyone, they are said to send their elves to pinch him. When ecclesiastics are displeased with a civil state, they too send their elves—that is, superstitious, enchanted subjects—to pinch its princes by preaching sedition; or they enchant one prince with promises to pinch another.

Fairies do not marry, but among them are incubi, who have intercourse with flesh and blood. Priests likewise do not marry.

Ecclesiastics take the cream of the land through gifts from ignorant people who stand in awe of them, and through tithes. So too, in fairy tales, fairies enter dairies and feast on the cream they skim from the milk.

What money passes in the kingdom of fairies is not recorded in the story. But when ecclesiastics receive payment, they accept the same money as we do, though when it is their turn to pay, they offer canonizations, indulgences, and masses.

To these and similar resemblances between the papacy and the kingdom of fairies, one may add this: fairies exist only in the fancies of ignorant people, born of the traditions of old wives or old poets; and likewise the pope’s spiritual power, beyond the bounds of his own civil dominion, consists only in the fear that deceived people feel of his excommunication after hearing false miracles, false traditions, and false interpretations of Scripture.

It was therefore not very difficult for Henry 8. to cast them out by his exorcism, or for Queen Elizabeth by hers. But who knows whether this spirit of Rome, now gone out and wandering on missions through the dry places of China, Japan, and the Indies, which yield him little fruit, may not return? Or rather, whether an assembly of spirits worse than he may not enter and inhabit this house swept clean, making its end worse than its beginning? For the Roman clergy are not alone in claiming that the Kingdom of God belongs to this world and that they therefore have a power in it distinct from the civil state’s. This is all I meant to say concerning the doctrine of politics. Once I have reviewed it, I shall willingly submit it to the judgment of my country.

A REVIEW AND CONCLUSION

Human inventions can be unraveled in the same way they were woven, but in reverse order. The weaving began with the earliest sources of power: the wisdom, humility, honesty, and other virtues of the apostles. Converts obeyed the apostles out of respect, not because they had to. Their consciences were free, while only civil authorities had power over their words and actions. Later, as Christ's flocks grew, the elders met to decide what they should teach. They bound themselves not to teach anything contrary to the decisions of those meetings. This led people to think that their followers were also obliged to accept their teaching. If people refused, the elders refused to associate with them. This was then called excommunication, and they did it not because those people did not believe but because they disobeyed. That was the first knot tied around their liberty. As the number of elders grew, those in the chief city or province gained authority over the elders of individual parishes and reserved the name “bishops” for themselves. This was the second knot tied around Christian liberty. Finally, because Rome was the imperial city, its bishop claimed authority over all the other bishops in the empire. He did so partly through the emperors' own consent and the title Pontifex Maximus, and finally, after the emperors had become weak, through the special rights supposedly granted to St. Peter. This was the third and last knot, completing the construction of papal power.

To take that power apart, then, we must follow the same path in reverse, starting with the knot tied last. We can see this in the dismantling of church government outside the civil government's authority in England.

First, Queen Elizabeth completely ended the power of the popes. Bishops who had previously carried out their functions by the pope's authority then did so by the authority of the queen and her successors. But because they kept saying they held office jure divino, or by divine right, people thought they were claiming a right directly from God. That undid the first knot. Later, the Presbyterians in England succeeded in abolishing government by bishops. That undid the second knot. At nearly the same time the Presbyterians also lost their power. We are thus back to the freedom of the earliest Christians: each person may follow Paul, Cephas, or Apollos, whichever they prefer. This may be best, provided it causes no quarrels and we do not judge Christ's teaching by our liking for his minister, a fault the apostle condemned in the Corinthians. First, no power ought to rule people's consciences except the Word itself. The Word produces faith in each person, not always as those who plant and water intend, but as God, who makes it grow, intends. Second, those who teach that even a small error is very dangerous cannot reasonably demand that a person capable of reasoning for themselves follow someone else's reasoning, or the majority opinion of many others. That is scarcely better than gambling one's salvation on a coin toss. Nor should these teachers resent losing their old authority. They should know better than anyone that power is kept through the same virtues by which it is gained: wisdom, humility, clear teaching, and honest conduct. It is not kept by suppressing the natural sciences or the moral teaching of natural reason, using unclear language, claiming more knowledge than one can show, practicing supposedly pious fraud, or committing other offenses. Such acts by pastors of God's Church are not merely faults but scandals that may eventually make people question their authority and bring it down.

Once the world accepted the doctrine that “the Church now at work on earth is the Kingdome of God described in the Old and New Testaments,” ambition and campaigning for church offices followed. Competition was strongest for the great office of Christ's deputy. The pomp of those who won the most important public offices gradually became so obvious that they lost the inner respect owed to a pastor's work. The wisest people with any civil power then needed only the authorization of their princes to stop obeying them. After the bishop of Rome secured recognition as universal bishop by claiming to succeed St. Peter, their whole hierarchy, or Kingdome of Darkness, could aptly be compared with a kingdom of fairies: the old wives' tales told in England about ghosts, spirits, and their nighttime tricks. Anyone who examines the origins of this great church dominion will easily see that the papacy is just the ghost of the dead Roman Empire, crowned and seated on its grave. The papacy arose suddenly from the ruins of that non-Christian power.

They also use Latin in church and official business. No nation in the world commonly speaks it now. What is this language but the ghost of old Roman speech?

In every country where fairies appear, they have just one universal king. Some of our poets call him King Oberon, but Scripture calls him Beelzebub, Prince of Demons. Likewise, church officials acknowledge just one universal king, the pope, no matter whose territory they live in.

Church officials call themselves spiritual men and ghostly fathers. Fairies are spirits and ghosts. Fairies and ghosts live in darkness, isolated places, and graves. Church officials move through the darkness of unclear doctrines, monasteries, churches, and churchyards.

Church officials have cathedrals. Wherever one is built, holy water and certain spells called exorcisms supposedly have the power to make its town a city, a seat of rule. Fairies also have enchanted castles and enormous ghosts that rule the surrounding areas.

Fairies cannot be caught and made to answer for the harm they do. In the same way, church officials disappear from civil courts.

Church officials deprive young men of the use of reason with spells made from metaphysics, miracles, traditions, and distorted Scripture. These young men become fit for nothing except carrying out orders. Fairies are likewise said to steal young children from cradles and turn them into people unable to reason, whom ordinary people call elves and who are prone to mischief.

Old wives' tales do not say in what workshop fairies make their spells. But we know the workshops of the clergy well enough. They are the universities, whose instruction was authorized by the popes.

When fairies dislike someone, they supposedly send their elves to pinch them. When church officials dislike a civil state, they too make their elves—that is, superstitious subjects under their spell—pinch their princes by preaching rebellion. Or they persuade one prince with promises to pinch another.

Fairies do not marry, but among them are incubi who have sex with people of flesh and blood. Priests do not marry either.

Church officials take the cream of the land through tithes and gifts from ignorant people who fear them. Likewise, fairy tales say fairies enter dairies and feast on the cream skimmed from milk.

The stories do not record what money fairies use in their kingdom. Church officials, though, take the same money we do when they collect payment. When they have to pay, however, they do so in canonizations, indulgences, and masses.

We can add this to the other likenesses between the papacy and the fairy kingdom: fairies exist only in ignorant people's imaginations, fed by old wives' and old poets' tales. In the same way, outside his own civil territory, the pope's spiritual power exists only in the fear of excommunication felt by people misled by false miracles, false traditions, and false readings of Scripture.

So it was not very hard for Henry 8. or for Queen Elizabeth to drive these spirits out by their own exorcisms. But who knows? The spirit of Rome has now departed and travels through the barren places of China, Japan, and the Indies on missions that bring it little reward. It may return; or, rather, a group of spirits worse than it may enter and live in this house that has been swept clean, leaving it worse off than it was at the start. After all, the Roman clergy are not the only ones claiming that the Kingdome of God exists in this world and that they therefore have power here apart from the civil state. This is all I intended to say about the teaching of the political theorists. Once I have reviewed it, I will gladly submit it to my country's judgment.

A REVIEW AND CONCLUSION