-.,*^ r/,^i^'»-\# -: •S „ ^ * , <>-, .^, ^:^^^A^ ^^0^ .^^ .. ^ ^ 0^ /4;H^V :^ >^"..o.;V^-\# x^^ ^ '^ ^M: ,4^ ..^ ,«v,x,# .:,s&\\..^ VM^X..^ .: ^ tr^'^ ^ 0^ .<^°^ V ^*^ O. '/ ,^^ ^ 1, o. --^ Q.. ''.. Ho. ^^^^ ^ . ^ % '^t>^'t '^.<^' o. ^ ^^ ^> ;^v^ s^ o N 9^. ^'v ^'f ^ .^^ s .r^' ^^' -^^ '^ V. -^ .<^''^ - %^o^ .* . '©lis « A? -^ 0^ t * fi V x^ *' 'Vo^ .^^ °^ > „ ^ • , ^ z >" '^^ • ^ A^ *^ ^ %^J^C^.^' ' >^ ^is^'t %^ ^iMs:i "\^ . q:^ \> oV ■^^ " *8^^g^ * OV V' ,"* '^ ''/T/s^' A*^' <- "/7*s^ A^^ ^ ''/TVT^^ A*^ ^ ''■ •:i':% C^ 9. %,# /^iA^ ^^^..^^ s> '^^^ 9x ''/T/s^' A^"^ '% V*fep//% v^P//"^^ '.^//% -%« 'S^^ ^"^;^:^"^% <^^v;^ ^^;::S^ 9. ''-^^ vr NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, ON THE SOCIAL AND POLITICAL STATE OF FRANCE, PRUSSIA, SWITZERLAND, ITALY, AND OTHER PARTS OF EUROPE, IDuring tl)c ^ircscnt dLcnlnx^. BY SAMUEL LAING, ESQ., AUTHOR OF "a JOURNAL OF A RESIDENCE IN NORWAY," AND OF "A TOUR IN SWEDEN." FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION. PHILADELPHIA: CAREY AND HART 1846. ^9'i';' ^«^ PHILADELPHIA: K. & P. G. COLLINS, PRINTERS. JM CONTENTS. ^^ CHAPTER I. Travel-writing. — Holland. — The sublime in Scenery. — The Picturesque in Hol- land. — Garden Houses. — Decay of Holland. — Causes of Decay. — Commercial Decline. — Manufacturing Stability. — Useful Arts. — Fine Arts. — Useful and Fine Arts compared. — Useful and Fine Arts. — The Poor in Holland. — The poor in Manufacturing Towns. — Poor Colonies. — Kingly Power in Holland. — Belgium. Federalism. — Union of the two Countries. — The Federal Principle. — Its work- ing in Switzerland, .....---35 CHAPTER II. France. — Face of the Country. — Of England. — Old Subdivision of Land in Eng- land. — Great Social Experiment in France. — Abolition of Primogeniture. — Opinions of Arthur Young — Mr. Birbeck — Edinburgh Reviewers — Dr. Chal- mers, reviewed. — Effects of the Division of Land in France examined. — French Character — Morals — Honesty — Decimal Division of Weights and Mea- sures, why not popular, - - - - - - - -61 CHAPTER. III. Social Economy — Why not treated as a distinct Science. — Aristocracy replaced by Functionarism in France — In Germany Interference of Government witli Free Agency. — Amount of Functionarism in a French Department — ludre et Loire — Amount in a Scotch County — Shire of Ayr. — Effects of Functionaristn on Industry — On National Character — On Morals — OnCiviland Political Liberty. — Change in the State of Property in Prussia. — Two Antagonist Principles in the Social Economy of Prussia, - - - - - - -'84 CHAPTER IV. Prussia. — Not constituting one Nation. — Prussian Policy in this Century. — Attempt to form National Character. — Why not successful.:^— Military organization of Prussia. — Liability to Military Service of all Prussians. — Service in the Line. — In the Army of Reserve. — First Division. — Second. — Effects of the System on the Political Balance of Europe. — Its Advantages. — Its Disadvantages compared to a Standing Army. — Its great Pressure on Time and Industry. — Its inferiority as a Military Force. — Amount of Military Force of Prussia. — Defect in the Continental Armies. — Non-commissioned Officers. — Men. — Too delicately bred in the Prussian Army. — Longevity of Officers. — The probable Issue of a War between Prussia and France. — Policy of England if such a war arise, - lOS CHAPTER V. The German Customs' Union or Commercial League. — Its Origin — Objects — Politi- cal Bearings — And probable Eflects, ----.. 133 CHAPTER VI. Notes on the Prussian Educational System. — Its Effects on the Moral Condition of the People, -.--..--- 170 CHAPTER VII. Notes on the Educational System of Prussia continued. — On its Effects on the Religious Condition of the People. — On the Prussian Church, - - - 180 CHAPTER VIII. Notes on the Prussian Educational System continued. — Its Eflects on the Social and Moral Condition and Character of the People, .... 212 CHAPTER IX. Disjointed State of Prussia as one National Body. — Different Laws and Administra- tions. — Functionarism. — Aristocracy and Functionarism compared, - - 228 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Berlin. — Management of the Poor in Berlin. — Details concerning the Manage- ment of the Poor, - - - - - - , - CHAPTER XI. Leipsic. — Book-trade — Its Effects on the Literature — On the Character — On the Social Economy of the Germans. — The German Theatre — its Influence. — The Educational Influences in Society. — The Scotch and the Germans compared, 253 CHAPTER XII. Notes on the Corn Law Question — Abroad and at Home, . _ . 266 CHAPTER XIII. Notes on the Rhine. — Switzerland. — Swiss Character. — Church of Geneva. — Swiss Scenery, -----.-.. 229 CHAPTER XIY. Notes on Switzerland. — Montreus. — Checks on Over-Population. — Swiss Dairy. — Agriculture. — Social Condition, ------- 315 CHAPTER XY. Lyons. — On its Manufacturing System. — Notes on Avignon. — French Barracks. — Cookery — Its Effects on National Wealth, - . . - . 334 CHAPTER XVI. Notes on Genoa. — Poor of Genoa — Causes of the Decline of Genoa, - - 344 CHAPTER SXll. Notes on Naples — Scenery. — Vesuvius. — Pompeii. — Neapolitan People — Causes of their low Condition, - - - - - - - -351 CHAPTER XVIII. Travelling in Italy. — ^Vetturini. — Capua. — Terracina. — Pontine Marshes. — Ma- remma. — The Approach to Rome. — Coliseum, - - . . 364 CHAPTER XIX. Notes on St. Peter's. — On Rome. — Population. — Position. — Causes of the Rise of Rome. — Origin of Rights of Property. — Civilization of Ancient Rome, - 377 CHAPTER XX. The Pope's Benediction. — Vatican Library. — Tomb of Clement XIII. — Horses of Monte Cavallo. — Ancient and Modern Sculpture, - - . - 3S8 CHAPTER XXI. Church of Rome. — Catholicism and Protestantism, ... - 394 CHAPTER XXII. The Olive Tree — Its Effects in Social Economy. — Maize. — Potatoes. — Florence. — Division of Land in Tuscany. — State of the People. — State of the Continental and English People compared, ------- 415 CHAPTER XXIII. Florence to Bologna. — Notes on Venice, _ - . . . 422 CHAPTER XXIV. The Brenta. — Italian Towns. — Way of Living of the Lower Classes. — Difference between tlie Italian and English Populations. — Causes of the Difference. — Reproductive and Unreproductive Expenditure, - - - - 431 CHAPTER XXV. Milan. — Como. — Austrian Government. — Notes on Lago Maggiore. — Isola Bella. — The Alps. — On the Social State of France, Prussia, Itafy. - - - 443 P E E F A C E SECOND EDITION The present generation stands in a very remarkable historical epoch — at the close of an old state of things in the political and social economy of Europe, and at the rise and formation of a new. Old laws and institutions, the old distribution of property, privi- lege, and power, no longer rest upon the old basis in any part of Europe, are no longer supported by the universal conformity and implicit faith and acceptance of society. Where they still survive the storm of the French Revolution, they hold but a lingering existence, for the roots in the human mind which supported them are shaken. An aristocracy founded upon property, birth, educa- tion, respect of the people, and honour, exists in all its ancient integrity in England only. On the continent, even where the principle of aristocracy is not abolished by an alteration in the feudal law of succession, it is abolished by the precedence given to government employment, civil and military, over all other dis- tinctions, and by the general diffusion among people in no way belonging to the class of nobility, of personal wealth, social influ- ence, high education, refinement of manners, and all that formerly separated aristocracy from the other elements of the social body. None can claim pre-eminence from possessing what is common to all above the lowest ranks of the community. This natural and unavoidable advance of society it is foolish to lament over, and impossible to retard. It is a result which is working itself out in Europe, even under the governments the most anxious to retain a highly privileged nobility around the throne as its surest support. In Austria, in Russia, in Denmark, in Sweden, in all the countries 2 10 PREFACE. beyond the direct shock of the French revolutionary spirit, we see, without revolution, an avowed change in the governments, or principles of their social economy, a change and revolution in the state and spirit of society, a diminution of the social influence of the aristocratic element in it, as great as in France itself, or in Prussia. This transition-state of society over all the continent is not yet ripe for the historian ; but the traveler may give some knowledge of its various phases in different countries ; and the public mind, seldom wrong in its instinct for providing for its in- tellectual, any more than for its physical wants, instinctively feels that the events of the French Revolution, and all the results that issued from it, are now but in the act of completing themselves by their effects on society ; that chronicle, not history, is all that man, not gifted with prescience, can as yet venture to write con- cerning that great moral convulsion ; and it grasps at travels, tours, statistical reports, and observations on the social state of foreign lauds, leaving the historian to sing his song to future gene- rations, about events of which the consequences are still in the womb of time. To this craving of the public mind for information regarding the present social and political state of the people of the continent, not to any merit of his own, the author ascribes the rapid sale of the first editions of this work and of his two preceding publications, " A Journal of a Residence in Norway" and a <'Tour in Sweden." They are the first and second parts of the same attempt to give the English public just views of the political and social economy of the other European people. In justice to the public, which has placed confidence in his statements and conclu- sions concerning the social, moral, and political condition of the countries of which he has written, the author considers himself bound to vindicate his good faith, justice, and accuracy in each of the three volumes in which he has prosecuted his general plan, however high the quarters from which they have been attacked. He republishes, therefore, in this preface, his reply to a pamphlet of the representative of the King of Sweden at tlie British court, in which the fidelity of his statements and the justice of his con- clusions are impugned. Kings and ambassadors are but ordinary men, and sometimes less than ordinary men, on the arena of litera- ture. The reading public of this country cannot be hoodwinked by authority or official pretension ; and the humblest writer has but to state his data, and conclusions fairly and fully, to demolish all PREFACE. 11 attempts to impose upon or mislead its judgment. The author seizes this opportunity of doing so, because this Reply to his Ex- cellency Count Biornstierna's pamphlet develops his statements and conclusions on the subjects discussed in his volumes on Swe- den and Norway with considerable detail; and because it appeared only in a periodical publication (the Monthly Chronicle) of very small circulation, and now out of print. In 1836 Mr. Laing published " A Journal of a Residence in Norway," and, in 1838, "A Tour in Sweden." These works were much read. The views they gave of the physical and moral state, and comparative v/ell-being, of two nations living in the Scandinavian peninsula, under totally distinct social systems, were considered very curious and interesting. They directed the atten- tion of political philosophers to singular results developed in Nor- way upon the multiplication, well-being, and morality of its isolated population, by the great diffusion of property and of legislative power, and by the perfect political equality of all classes in the social body ; and to equally singular results in Sweden, arising frpm a social structure altogether the reverse of the Norwegian. Trifling as these works were as literary productions, they awak- ened the public mind in Europe to the unprincipled attempts of the Swedish cabinet to subvert the liberal constitution of Norway, although virtually guaranteed to the Norwegian nation by England and the other allied powers, and formally accepted and sworn to by the Swedish monarch himself; and they had the effect of raising around the Norwegian constitution the impregnable bar- rier of the European public opinion, which the Swedish monarch and his cabinet are forced to respect. When the last of these two works appeared, a semi-official notice was given in the govern- ment newspaper of Stockholm, that a refutation of the statements and reasonings contained in them would be published— that is, observed the other newspapers, provided they can be refuted. Two years, and much diplomatic wisdom, have been expended in doing into English those Swedish ideas on government and national morality which constitute this official long-promised refu- tation. It has at last dropped unnoticed into the world, in the shape of a two-shilling pamphlet of sixty-five pages, " On the Moral State and Political Union of Sweden and Norway, in answer to Mr. S. Laing's Statements." Two shillings are not much money, yet a pamphlet may be very dear at two shillings. 12 PREFACE, But this is a work of the state, an official defence of a nation and its government, of a king, cabinet, and diet, in sixty-five pages, price two shillings. Let us pay that respect to the outward official position of this two shillings' worth of printed paper, which we would deny to its intrinsic merit and value — this is the principle on which the monarchy itself is based in Sweden. The statements of Mr. Laing which chiefly interest the public, and which, from the importance of the deductions made from them, the public may reasonably expect to see specially refuted in this pamphlet, are these : — First, his statement that the Nor- wegian constitution works admirably well — that the people of Norway, with their legislation entirely in their own hands, with- out a nobility or privileged class in their legislature, and with the power of the king limited constitutionally to a mere suspensive veto in the enactment of laws, and without any exclusive right to the sole initiative, are prosperous and thriving in a remarkable degree — that they have, by the economical measures of their legislature, paid off their national debt, have reduced their taxes, have, notwithstanding, provided for military, naval, and civil establishments suitable to their just position in the political world ; are removing gradually and judiciously, not precipitately, restric- tions on the freedom of industry and trade inherited from their Danish masters; are allowing no superfluous functionaries, mili- tary, naval, or civil, Swedish or Norwegian, to batten upon the means of the industrious classes, and are evincing the most un- questionable and enlightened loyalty to the monarch to whom they have sworn allegiance, although steadily, firmly, but re- spectfully, exposing and defeating his want of loyalty to the constitution he had sworn to accept and maintain. Now is this statement true or false ? This Swedish statesman tells the world that the Norwegian constitution is bad, because Aristotle and Cicero, Bacon and Machiavelli, Montesquieu and Madison, Jeremy Benlham and Sismondi, Tocqueville and Guizot, and himself, are all master- minds, who have declared that "a national representation, formed in one democratical chamber, will fall into frequent mistakes ; will, by its single position against royalty, get into conflict with it, which must either lead to absolutism, or, what is still worse, to anarchy;" and, moreover, this Swedish master-mind tells the world, that the division of the Norwegian representative assembly PREFACE. 13 into two chambers is insufficient to take it out of this anathema of great authorities against a single democratic chamber. Mr. Laing's reply to all this array of authorities is a simple reference to the facts — contradict them who can — that this Nor- wegian constitution has been in operation now for a quarter of a century, going on smoothly, unless when the royal finger is laid hold of by the Swedish counselors of his majesty, and unad- visedly thrust into the machinery, when it gets an ugly squeeze and is precipitately withdrawn. This practical working of the legislative machine in the Norwegian constitution is held by Mr. Laing to be worth all the master-mind nostrums and theories of speculative philosophers, from Aristotle, Bacon, and Jeremy Ben- tham, down to this pamphleteer. In this constitution there is an effective check upon absolutism, from the legislative body in it having a self-existence independent altogether of the will of the executive power. It is elected and constituted, siio jure, once in three years, without writ or warrant being necessary from the king. It has a check upon anarchy, from the simple principle that no alteration in the constitution can be adopted by the same legislative assembly in which it is proposed. Every alteration must be proposed in one storthing, and taken into consideration, and adopted or rejected, by the next storthing : that is, by a new legislative assembly, after a lapse of three years, during which the proposed alteration has been before the nation at large, and is fully discussed and understood by all. The efficiency of these checks, against absolutism at least, has been pretty well tried in the present reign. Bat, says this Swedish political philosopher, the second or upper chamber of this legislative body, elected out of the mass of representatives, is an abomination in the Norwegian constitution. He tells us that, in the last storthing, the lagthing, or upper chamber, actually consisted of" peasants, non-commissioned officers, parish clerks, provincial vaccinators, and the rest lawyers, and attorneys," instead of counts and barons, with a pennyworth of red ribbon at their button-holes, or of dukes, lords, and bishops. *'And is this," exclaims the Swedish statesman, in aristocratic ire, •'•the chamber Mr Laing presumes to compare with the British house of peers?" Mr. Laing would just presume to whisper in his ear, that as an upper or deliberative chamber in the legisla- ture, as a body of legislators of the same class and with the same interests as the legislatccs, and therefore capable of judging of the 14 PREFACE. suitableness of the laws sent up to them from the lower chamber for their consideration, this same upper chamber may well be compared with the British house of peers, or the Swedish house of nobles, and be admitted, too, to be, in the principle of its con- struction, superior to either for legislative purposes, and better constituted for wise legislation. But, says this master-mind of sixty-five pages of foolscap, this upper chamber in the Norwegian storthing has no effective veto upon the measures of the lower chamber, or main body of the national representatives — has no obstructive power in the constitution. Mr. Laing would again whisper in his ear, that this is exactly its merit. It has a suffi- cient suspensive power to prevent hasty enactments, a sufficient deliberative power to examine the bearings and effects of every measure, to amend, to reject, until its own views are again con- sidered in the lower chamber, but has no obstructive power. It cannot, like the British house of peers, or SwedisTi house of nobles, be made the tool of any aristocratic faction to obstruct all useful public measures that clash with the interests of a privileged few. It has, in the legislative machinery, a sufficient suspensive, de- liberative, amending power, but no obstructive power; and the British house of peers ought to have no more. True it is, that this upper chamber of the Norwegian storthing is composed of very ordinary vulgar fellows — just such people, indeed, as those for whom they are acting. Compare them, forsooth, to the cham- ber of nobles in a Swedish diet — a chamber composed, in one diet, since the acquisition of the Norwegian crown by the Swedish monarch, of sixty-seven ensigns and lieutenants, forty-nine cap- tains, one hundred and five colonels, lieutenant-colonels, and majors, thirty-eight chamberlains, twelve presidents or vice-pre- sidents of departments, tv/elve prefects, and twenty in various other court offices— -in all, four hundred and seventy-live govern- ment functionaries, out of a chamber of four hundred and ninety- two members ! Yet, Mr. Laing would quietlj^ask — in a whisper — in which of these two legislative chambers will we find men who betrayed the king to v/hom they had sworn allegiance — who sold the crown of their native race of sovereigns — which, if the sovereign who wore it was incapable or unworthy to reign, should, on every principle, radical or conservative, have ultimately devolved on his infant heir— to a foreigner— and who delivered PREFACE. 15 up to the enemy for money the finest provinces of the realm, the strongest fortresses and positions in Europe ? But this Norwegian constitution is too democratic in one page of this statesman hke pamphlet, and too little so in the next. He complains that the representative is not elected directly by the people in Norway, but by their election-delegates. It is certainly an evil of this intermediate wheel between the constituency and the representative, that the public takes less interest in the elections than where they appoint their representatives by direct election. This disadvantage of the system of election-men was pointed out by Mr. Laing. He also pointed out its important advantages. It defeats all attempts at bribery, all undue influence over the electors, and is, in reality, the only system, except the vote by ballot, which secures the purity of election. Time alone — that greatest of all political philosophers — can discover whether this system be or be not good. In the peculiar situation of Norway, with a corrupt Swedish aristocracy eager to use all the royal power and patronage for the end of obtaining an influence in the legis- lative body of Norway, and an exclusive management of her atFairs, the system of electing representatives through election- men works admirably. Influence, intimidation, or bribery, cannot get through a double row of electors ; and that of the immediate electors, the election-men, not known, until (hey are assembled to act for their constituents in the election of a suitable representative. No wonder such a system is too much and too little of a demo- cracy to suit the Swedish nobility gaping for posts, and places, and public money, from the executive branch of the joint governments. Mr. Laing replies to all the observations upon the theoretical defects of the Norwegian constitution, with the simple facts — that the people living under it are undeniably in a state of high and progressive prosperity ; their trade, shipping, exports, imports, industry, well-being, and property, rapidly increasing ; while the commerce, shipping, and physical and moral condition of Sweden are notoriously not advancing. That their taxes are reduced — their debt paid olf— their money good in alt countries — their credit excellent ; and, above all, with the fact that the Norwegian people are content with their constitution as it is, while Sweden and Don- mark are both clamorous for a constitution similar to it. How comes it, he asks, that a committee of the Swedish diet, now assembled, recommends a reform of the Swedish constitution, and 16 PREFACE. that one single representative assembly be elected without distinc- tion of privileged classes, and that the second or upper chamber be elected out of and by this representative assembly ? This is exactly the principle of the Norwegian constitution ; and this is the substance of the report of the committee of the present diet, appointed to consider the reforms necessary in the constitution of Sweden. Denmark, also, is at this moment in a state of great excitement — the nation almost peremptorily demanding a consti- tution from their new sovereign — a constitution similar to that of their late fellow-subjects. And why? Because, while they are pressed to the earth with taxes, and public expenditure, and a wasteful irresponsible government, they see their former fellow- subjects happy and flourishing. A constitution which those who live under it are contented with, and those who live around it ■envy, and are intent upon obtaining one similar for themselves, may well do without the approbation of the aristocracy of Sweden. But as the prosperity of Norway under its present constitution is not to be denied — is notorious to all Europe— is loudly proclaimed in every sea-port which has relations of trade with that kingdom — our Swedish pamphleteer slyly changes his ground, and insinu- ates, that this undeniable prosperity is not owing at all to the liberal constitution of Norway, to the general difl'usion of property among her people, to the wisdom, intelligence, and Joseph Hume- like economy of her native legislators in expending the public money, but to Sweden ! And why? Because Sweden keeps up a puppet-show of a court, a diplomacy, an army of many officers, a navy, and apes the establishments of a great power without the means to support them. Norway, he says, is spared all this ex- pense of establishments for defence or display as a nation, and therefore is flourishing at the expense of Sweden. The Norwe- gian storthing is certainly wise enough to see, that the people of Norway have property to defend, a constitution worth fighting for, and a sovereign to whom, as the head of that constitution, they are as zealously attached as his foolish attempts to subvert it will permit them to be ; and, peasants though they be, have political tact enough to estimate much more justly than the Swed- ish cabinet, their real position among the European states ; to see that their safety, independence, and importance, depend not upon the half dozen regiments and frigates which they could maintain, and still less upon an army of noble officers without PREFACE. 17 men, strutting about the streets in idleness, demoralizing the town populations, and devouring the means of the people, but upon the commercial relations of their conntrj^ which bind it, and its safety, independence, and present constitution, with the interests of European commerce, so that a shock now given to Norway would be felt on every exchange in Europe, from Naples to Archangel. They act with far more political wisdom, in expending as little as possible of the means of the people in taxes, to support an idle show of military and naval power, and in putting their country in the best state of defence which their real means permit them to do, viz., that in which the people have rights and property to fight for — arms in their hands to fight with— and a sufficient but not oppressive military organization to defend their own rocks against direct invasion ; but resting the defence of their national independence, as all secondary powers must do, not upon their own military power, but upon the intimate junction of their in- terests, industry, independence, and government, with those of greater powers. Which country is in the best state of defence ? Norway, with little or nothing of an army, navy, diplomacy, and no privileged class of nobility, but with its industry, commerce and welfare binding it up with those of every trading nation in Europe ? or Sweden, isolated politically and commercially compared to Nor- way ; and with the hereditary ties of a nation to its sovereign broken by a venal court faction, its crown upon the head of a foreigner ignorant of the language of ciyil affairs of the country he governs, its idle dissolute nobility living as useless military, civil, or courtly functionaries upon the means of the people, and looked upon by the people, since their sale of Finland, and of their native race of princes, as quite capable of betraying every interest but their own ; and the people themselves, driven by misgovern- ment and oppressive military arrangements into poverty and its natural consequence, over-multiplication ; into drunkenness, and its natural consequence, immorality ? Which country is the best governed — that in which the people are governed by their own laws, and employ their own time and labour on their own pro- perty, to their own advantage? or that in which the people are without any real voice in the legislature, are oppressed with taxes, to support military and civil establishments altogether ri- diculous in the present political state of European powers, their 18 " PREFACE. time and labour wasted in military drills and shows for the grati- fication of a body of moustachioed nobility as officers, numerous enough to command all the armies of a first-rate power, and to exhaust the finances of such a third-rate power as Sweden, even without men to command ? This writer seems to depend upon the gullibility of the English nation, its proverbial ignorance of all foreign countries, and its good-natured readiness to believe whatever is told it by those who are in a situation to know the truth. It enters not into the con- ception or character of our public to doubt that a broad assertion can be false. This writer broadly asserts, that the Swedish people enjoy a free representative constitution ; yet at this very moment, the committee of the diet itself recommends the abolition of the present constitution, if such a thing as the diet can be called a constitution, and instead of it, that a fair representation of the people of all classes, and not merely of nobility, clergy, burgesses, and a small portion of peasantry, be given to the nation. He asserts that the press in Sweden is free : if so, why was Captain Lindenberg condemned to death ? Why is Mr. Crusenstolpe suf- fering imprisonment in a fortress? Why is the newspaper the most generally diffused bearing on its title the Twenty-fifth Aften- blad, that is to say, it has been suppressed twenty-four times by an arbitrary censorship? Gullible the English public undoubtedly is; and, in the eyes of diplomatists of a third-rate order, it may be a virtue to deceive the public ; to give an importance to small things and little minds in kingly station ; to confound the right and the moral in political affairs for the purpose of supporting a poor faction of nobility in a systematic oppression of the people. But the public seldom errs in its judgment, when it has the means of judging : the means of judging are before the British public : viz., the analysis of the Swedish diet, the historical facts of the conduct of the Swedish nobility in their surrender of Finland ; in their court intrigues, by which Charless XIII. seized the throne of his brother's children ; and. in their transfer of the crown from a native race of kings to a foreigner of second-rate military repu- tation in this age, ignorant of the language, people, and institu- tions, and without any other real recommendation to the throne of the Vasa dynasty than that he would be a more convenient tool in the hands of the faction that disposed of it, than its legiti- mate heir. PREFACE. 19 These are the means of forming a judgment, which, in this country at least, are before the public. "The Foreign Quarterly Review" has lately, in an able article, recapitulated the historical facts. "The Annual Register," and the numerous other collec- tions and narratives of the public affairs and documents of this eventful century, give the British public, at least, the means of forming a judgment upon the statements and opinions of Mr Laing's work, which this writer controverts with his bare un- supported assertion. The consistency or inconsistency of Mr. Laing's political opinions is as unimportant to the public as Mr. Laing is himself. This poor tool of a faction of Swedish nobility cannot understand, it seems, how a man can advocate liberal opinions, and, at the same time, legitimate opinions. He does not comprehend — and how should the noble who sees only his party, and his small party-objects or advantages, in every public ques- tion, and not the moral and political right or wrong, the social good or evil, how should he comprehend — that the liberal is far more conservative than the aristocrat ? The liberal seeks only the preservation of each power in the state — the executive, the legis- lative, the administrative— by confining each to its legitimate province. He would strip the executive power of legislative authority, because the usurpation endangers the safety, and de- stroys the utility of the executive itself: he would purify the legis- lative authority from the admixture of executive with legislative influence exercised by the oligarchy of a nobilhy : he would establish the throne upon its proper rights, and make it, as the executive power in the state, independent of factions of nobility, and of military power : ho would respect the legitimate succession to the legitimate rights of sovereign power ; and if, unhappily, any individual in the line of succession should break the original con- tract with the people, he would resist, depose, bring to trial, and even to the scaffold, the individual monarch guilty of such mis- government; and would establish such a constitution as would render the personal character of the future sovereigns of little importance in the government of the country, for any evil to the comnumity ; but he would not alienate and sell the crown of his native land, and his native race of sovereigns; nor suffer a faction of nobility to dispose of it to a foreigner alien in religion, alien in language, alien in habits, for tlieir own interests and advantages. The liberal is the real conservative of the monarchical principle; 20 PREFACE. in Europe : the aristocrat is only the conservative of the influence, privilege, and power of a faction around the throne, as dangerous to the monarch as it is useless to the people. The history of Sweden, since the usurpation of the late deposed king's uncle, Charles XIII., is a memorable instance, in modern history, of the working of a government called into existence by an aristocracy, and conducted by an aristocracy for its own advantages and in- terests as a privileged class : it shows the legitimate sovereigns of Europe what they and their families have to expect from their conservative nobility, where the voice of the people is not heard, and their right to a share in the legislature is usurped by the fac- tions of the privileged orders. Had the voice of the Swedish people been heard, the race of its ancient sovereigns, under con- stitutional restrictions on the abuse of monarchical power, would at this day have been on the Swedish throne. The Swedish nation would as soon have thought of electing Tom Thumb the Great for their sovereign, as a French general, whose name not one in a thousand liad ever heard of in Sweden, and whose wliole life and career, however distinguished, whether great or little, had been totally unconnected with Swedish interests or honour, and were connected only with a few needy intriguing Swedish nobles in Paris who had no stake at home. Sweden, in this age, is as badly defended by her nobility in the fields of literature, as of war. The other statement of Mr. Laing, which it would be interest- ing to the public, and important to political science, to see fairly met and refuted, or else fairly admitted, is that Sweden, with a population almost entirely agricultural, not manufacturing or commercial, with a powerful church establishment undisturbed by dissent or sectarianism, and with national education, as far as regards reading, writing, and the first principles of religion, very widely diffused, is notv/ithstanding in a more demoralized state than any country in Europe — more demoralized even than any equal portion of the British manufacturing population — stands, in short, at the very bottom of the scale of European morality. The copclusion which Mr. Laing draws from this is, that bad government, bad laws, bad social arrangements, unjust or une- qual political rights and civil condition enjoyed by privileged classes at the expense and to the oppression of the great body of the people,'the want of free agency as moral beings, by the iu- PREFACE. 21 terference of a military government with the time, labour, in- dustry, and doings of the people, reducing them to the slate of a soldiery in country quarters, are such demoralizing influences in civil society, that even a powerful church establishment, and an effective system of national education, cannot counteract their tendency. Mr. Laing's conclusions must depend upon tlie truth of his statements. His statements are clearly and distinctly made. They do not rest upon his personal observations, or experiences as a traveler. He justly, it is conceived, observes, that the merely personal observation of the traveler, however good his opportuni- ties, or long his experience of what he remarks in his own con- fined circle, as a stranger, is of no value whatsoever, either for establishing or refuting such a statement as he ventures to make respecting Sweden. Mr. Laing states that he makes it upon documentary evidence, upon the official returns of the Swedish minister of justice, of the crimes committed within a given year, 1836, compared with the official criminal lists of other countries for the same year. Here, one would surely say, there can be no room for a conflict of opinions, or a reference to authorities. Here are facts to be admitted or denied, and facts only. Here is a list of specified crimes — murders, poisonings, unnatural crimes, robberies, thefts, or whatever they may be — committed in one country, to be compared with a list of the very same crimes com- mitted, during the very same period of time, in another country. Are these lists true or false? Here is no room, surely, to rebut officially specified crimes, with the opinions of the Marquis of Bute, Lord Strangford, Lord Fitzgerald, Lord Bloomfield, Lord Castlereagh, Lord Howard de Walden, Honourable J. D. Bligh, Sir Thomas Cartwright, Honourable J. Bloomfield, &c. Opinion against opinion, it may be reasonably doubted, whether observers in their rank, and necessarily confined in their intercourse, to one class of society, are in a position, however long they may have resided in the country, so favourable for forming just opinions on its moral condition, as an obscure ordinary traveler like Mr. Laing. But here are facts specified, facts officially established. Of what value against these facts arc the opinions of any number of diplomatic lords, or traveling gentlemen ? Is it pretended that their opinions should be received rather than facts ? This may be a privilege, perhaps, of Swedish nobility, and diplomatists; but, in this country, opinions pass for no more than they arc worth; 22 PREFACE. that is, for nothing at all, in opposition to facts established on authentic official documents. But this writer quotes opinions of more weight. He states it to be the opinion of Mr. M'Cnlloch, and also of the editor of " The Polytechnic Journal," that the mere amount of commit- tals or punishments for criminal offences in different countries, gives no just view of their relative moral state, because offences against police regulations, involving in them no moral delinquency, maybe classed as criminal offences and punished as such, in some countries, and altogether passed over, or at least not included, in the criminal calendar of other countries. Without stopping to consider the demoralizing effects of such an indiscriminating sys- tem of law and raisgovernment, that mere police transgressions, such, for instance, as a peasant appearing too late at a posting station with his horses to drive an impatient noble to the next stage for an inadequate recompense, are treated and punished as moral offences ; and without stopping to consider the demoraliz- ing influence of such a system of police and criminal regulation together, that one person in every 112| of the whole population, infants, females, sick and aged inclusive, could be accused, and one in 134 convicted and punished — for there is a moral degra- dation in being accused, convicted, and punished, even for mere police transgressions— it is, Mr. Laing observes, '< not upon the amount of committals and punishments, to which the opinion of those enlightened statistical writers specially refers, that he founds his statement." He comes to close quarters. He does not merely state that in 1836, out of every 134 persons, women, infants, aged, sick, all included, one person had been convicted : lie specifies the crimes themselves, the number of murders, of robberies, of of- fences against nature, of poisonings, of fire-raisings, of thefts. He gives the number of those specified crimes in the official lists, which no juggle about classification of offences, or about police regulations, can in any way diminish, or exaggerate, as acts in- volving the highest moral guilt; and he asks if any other com- munity in Europe, of the same population, has produced so many criminal offences of the same moral guilt within the same period? He does not merely state the gross number of crimes in all Swe- den, but he takes one or two distinct provinces, as Gothland, Geflelan, Stockholm, and gives the number of people implicated, and the number of murders, robberies, and other crimes commit- PREFACE. 23 ted, in the year 1S.3G, and asks if such a criminal list in the same year can be produced from the most disturbed province of Ire- land, or the most depraved portion of the manufacturing popula- tion of England ? This Swedish moralist appeals to the Scotch nation, whether, if they " were placed in a jury box in an action against Mr. Laing for libeling the Swedish nation, they would not pronounce the verdict of 'giiilli/.'" Before pronouncing their verdict, they would be requested by Mr. Lamg to read the following list of crimes committed in 1S38, within the kingdom of Sweden, carrying in their minds that the population of this kingdom is little, if at all, greater than that of Scotland ; that its metropolis contains about half the population of Edinburgh, viz., 75,000 people ; and that it has no Glasgow, no manufacturing population, no influx of strangers. Mr. Laing takes the official returns of the Swedish minister of justice for 1S38, being a return later in date by two years than that upon which he founded his statement of the low moral condition of the Swedish nation in his *' Tour in Sweden." In 1838, then, 26,357 men and 3626 women have been prose- cuted for criminal offence; being 1 person in every 161 of the whole population. Of this number, 22,005 men and 3013 women have been condemned ; 3191 men and 398 women acquitted ; and the rest, at the date of the report, 18th December, 1839, were still under trial. Among the crimes tried in the country courts, were twenty-eight cases of murder, for which thirty-one men and eight women were condemned; further, twelve cases of child-murder, and twelve women condemned for this crime ; further, seven cases of poisoning, and three men and live women condemned for this crime. Besides these capital crimes tried in the country courts, there were tried in the town courts, one murder, committed by one man ; one case of incendiarism and murder, by a woman ; and one case of murder, robbery, and incendiarism united. We have here, of capital crimes involving human life, in this population of less than 3,000,000, fifty cases, and sixty-two persons condemned for murder. Is this our proportion in Scotland of this crime? Is there any classification of offences, any juggle between police transgressions and criminal olTence, by which this amount of crime of the most heavy description may be explained away ? But, further, we have six cases of violent robbery, and ten men and one woman condemned for this crime ; also, sixteen cases of 24 PREFACE. perjury, and twenty persons condemned ; farther, four cases of incendiarism, and two men and two women condemned. The inquisition, too — the church establishment — has had its victims through the arm of the civil courts : twenty-one persons con- demned for contempt of the pubUc church service. We have not yet done. We have 126 cases of theft repeated three or more times, and 104 men and 19 women condemned under this indict- ment ; also, 274 cases of theft twice repeated, and 340 men and 41 women condemned ; 947 cases of theft for the first time, and 833 men and 205 women condemned ; and, besides all this, 478 cases of petty thefts, and 397 men and 118 women condemned. But we have not exhausted this record of Swedish morality. We are only in the country courts. In the town courts, besides the three cases of murder and incendiarism before mentioned, there have been tried 112 cases of forgery, and 105 men and 18 women condemned ; 892 cases of theft, and 907 persons condemned ; 479 cases of petty theft, and 596 persons condemned. In the year 1838, the number of persons condemned to death for capital of- fences has been sixty-eight-, of whom nineteen have been exe- cuted, and forty-nine pardoned, or sentence commuted. Is this the proportion of capital offences, and of executions, in one year in Scotland ? Is Mr. Laing confounding mere police transgressions with moral offences in this statement ? In 1838, the divorces — no inexpressive test of the morality of a people — were 147 ; viz., ninety-five at the instance of husbands, and fifty-two of wives. One hundred and seventy-two cases of suicide came under the cognizance of the local authorities in all Sweden, in 1838. Now are these of the description of crimes which any classification, or non-classification, can take out of the catalogue of moral delin- quency, and range under the head of police transgression only — of infractions of conventional regulation involving no moral delinquen- cy ? Is there at this day any civilized community in Europe with such a frightful list of crime for the year 1838, in every 3,000,000 of its population ? Is Mr. Laing guilty, or not guilty, of a libel on the Swedish nation, when he places it at the bottom of the moral list in Europe ? If the Scotchman acquainted with the moral condition of Scotland, were to answer the appeal of this Swedish writer to find Mr. Laing guilty of a libel on the moral character of the Swedish nation, Saunders would probably take a snuff, and PREFACE. 25 quietly observe, that there are nations, as well as individuals, whom it would be very difficult to libel. This moralist seems to be particularly shocked at Mr. Laing's statement, that the Swedish population, at least the town popula- tions of Sweden, is remarkably unchaste. Mr. Laing states that the proportion of illegitimate to legitimate births in Stockholm is as 1 to 2^^, while in London and Middlesex it is 1 to 3S legitimate births; and in Paris 1 to 5, and in the other French towns 1 to 75. Mr. Laing admits that he has here made a mistake — a very important mistake — in his statement ; but it happens to be a mis- take in understating instead of overstating the amQunt of illegiti- macy in Stockholm in one year. In the year 1838, there were born in Stockholm 2714 children, and of those 1577 were legi- timate, and 1137 were illegitimate, making a balance of only 440 chaste mothers out of 2714: so that instead of 1 illegitimate birth for every 2^-^ legitimate, it is actually 1 illegitimate for every H legitimate. In the town populations of Sweden, Stockholm not included, there were ,born 4083 legitimate and 926 illegitimate children in 1838, so that there the proportion is about 1 illegi- timate to 4 legitimate births. Now these are, in general, petty country towns, without manufactures or commerce, towns of three or four thousand inhabitants. Is it the state of morals in our small towns, that 1 illegitimate child is born for every 4 legi- timate ? Aberdeen approaches nearer in population to Stockholm than Edinburgh. In Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Glasgow, London, in any town in Christendom, is the proportion of bastards to legi- timate children as 1 to li .'' It is in vain to quote the opinion of the editor of "The Polytechnic Journal," that the returns of ille- gitimate births in the towns of England and Wales are or may be, erroneous— that London and Middlesex swarm with prosti- tutes, so that, in reality, the male sex may be quite as unchaste there as in Stockholm. The plain common sense of every man tells him, that such an enormous proportion of illegitimate births proves that the want of chastity in the female sex is not confined, as in London, to an outcast class of females, but is spread very widely over the female community of other classes, among whom, with us, a breach of chastity is of very rare occurrence. All the Swedish moralists and polytechnic journalists in the world will not make out that a nation is in a high moral condition with one 3 2& PREFACE, unchaste for every fcrar chaste mothers in the small towns, and two unchaste for every three chaste mothers in its metropolis. This writer passes over in pradeut silence the enormous pro- portion of the population of this metropolis which has gone io the course of a year through the public hospital, via., 1 in every 6O/0 of unmarried adults, for the treatment of an infamous dis- ease ; and also the attempt of this moral government a few years ago, to establish brothels, either as a financial or as a sanatary speculation. Mr. Laing is conscious that he has fully established by the official returns for 1838, which he now quotes, as well as by those for J 836, which he quoted in his " Tour in Sweden," that Sweden stands at present at the bottom of the moral scale of Europe, that chastity is not a Swedish virtue, and that he is not guilty of a libel on the Swedish nation in publishing their own official returns of the crimes committed among them in 1836, and now in 183S, and drawing obvious unavoidable inferences fr»m them of the very low moral condition of Sweden. What may be the causes of this frightfully demoralized state of a country in which the church establishment and the educational system are vigorous and effective ? This silly pamphleteer would insinuate that Mr. Laing attributes the demoralized state of the Swedish nation to religion and education : M?. Laing attributes it now, and in his " Tour in Sweden," distinctly to misgovern- ment, and to the privileged classes in the social structure of Swe- den keeping down all free agency as moral beings among the people, reducing them to the state of a soldiery with regulations, interference, and conventional laws and observances, instead of moral duties to guide them, and liable, like a soldiery, to fall into excesses and transgressions of all civil duties, when occasion- ally escaping from the kind of military surveillance of the public functionary. The Swedish people are not vicious naturally. No people are so. But they are not treated by their government as free agents. Their time, labour, industry, property, are interfered with, and taken from them by government and its functionaries, by privi- leged classes, by a greedy and poor nubility living upon the taxes. They have consequently the vices of men who are not free agents — not bred under moral restraint, but under discipline, police regulation, or conventioual restraint. In spite of religious and educational establishments, they are demoralized by misgovern- PREFACE. 27 menl, bad laws, and a faulty structure of society ; and Mr. Laing draws, from the striking moral condition of this people, the im- portant conclusion, that the cause of reform is the cause of mo- rality ; that the pious and good men among us who would make every sacrifice for the diffusion of education and religious instruc- tion among the people, yet oppose every innovation or reform in the civil institutions and government of the country, are involved in contradiction and inconsistency. The very remarkable dimi- nution of crime in Ireland, which accompanied the more libe- ral administration of government under the Whig ministry, the equal bearing of law at present towards the Catholic and Pro- testant population, strengthens this conclusion, proves that national morality is more intimately connected with good, even-handed, liberal government, and the equal rights of all in the social sys- tem than with the religious and educational establishments of a country. The latter, as moral influences, are inefficient without the former. This writer attributes the immorality of Sweden, which after a long juggle with opinions and authorities against facts, he is forced to admit, to the drunkenness of the people, and their drunkenness again to the too powerful spirit of democi'acy in the Swedish constitution, by which the peasantry " enjoy the right to distil their own brandy as freely as to make their own soup." In the Swedish diet — this too liberal, too democratic assembly — there are three chambers, besides that of the peasantry — the chamber of nobles, of clergy, and of the burgesses of corporate towns, each of which can stop any prejudicial or any beneficial act proposed in any other chamber, and hinder it passing into a law. How comes it that this excessive and demoralizing right of every man to distil brandy at his pleasure, passed into a law through these three conservative chambers, any one of which could have stopped it? Is it that the nobility, clergy, and privi- leged shop-keepers get their rents, their church dues, their shop accounts, better paid ; and, therefore, they allow this universal distillation among the people, have no objection to a demoralizing influence provided it fills their purses? If the Swedish clergy and nobility sincerely believe that the general depravity, the low moral condition of the Swedish nation proceeds from drunkenness fos- tered by this general unchecked distillation of spirits, why do they not restrain, or at least propose a law to restrain, this right 28 PREFACE. of distillation ? They themselves furnish the proof that their diet is merely a meeting of delegates of certain privileged bodies, for the purpose of legislating for their own advantage, without regard to the morality, well-being, or prosperity of the country. But to consider drunkenness as the cause of the low rhoral state of the Swedish nation is like the reasoning of the murderer Coiir- voisier, who held that his petty theft of his master's silver spoons was the cause of his midnight murder of his master; and that the deeper crime v/as only a consequence of his theft, necessary to conceal it. Drunkenness is the cause of crime bat too often in the indi- vidual ; but it is the effect of a low and degraded moral state of the national mind and habits, that individuals drink to excess. It is not, as this writer supposes, a necessary consequence of the people enjoying "the right to distil their brandy as freely as to make their soup," that the people should be addicted to excessive drinking, and become demorahzed. The people of Switzerland enjoy the right to distil as freely as the people of Sweden, and have much better stuff to distil and make spirits of; but they are not addicted to excessive drunkenness; they are not demoralized by this democratic liberty to distil what they please, and as much as they please. But, then, they are free agents in all things, as well as in distillation ; they are men under moral restraint in all their doings, not under functionary regulation. The difference of race, or the difference of climate, must not be alleged as sufficient to account for the Sunss peasant being, with a perfectly free distil- lation of his wines, his cherries, his barley, a sober moral man, and the Swede the reverse. The Swiss peasant in Haslethal con- siders himself to this day a descendant from a Swedish stock ; and the language, mode of building their dwellings, personal ap- pearance, and habits of living in that district, furnish many strik- ing proofs that the tradition is not without some foundation — that the races may have been originally the same. The climate of Swe- den is to be found in the upper end of every alpine valley ; but, in Switzerland, the free distillation does not demoralize the peo- ple ! And why ? Because the people have rights, have freedom ; are not enslaved by privileged bodies of clergy, nobility, and merchants, and by a government acting entirely for the interest of these privileged bodies, and with no ties to the mass of the nation but those which military and civil functionaries can create; with PREFACE. 29 no support in the feelings of the people, in their hereditary attach- ments, or prejudices, or principles, and therefore a mere tool in the hands of the privileged classes who set up the puppet, and pull the strings by which it moves, nods, and gives signs of in- telligence and approbation to whatever they whisper in its ear. This writer is obliged to distort, misrepresent, and falsify the opinions he endeavours to refute, in order to answer them. He ascribes to Mr. Laing the opinion that, '' to procure sugar and coffee cheaper for Russia, Norway and Sweden should bs incor- porated with Russia." He says, « This enlightened and patriotic Scotchman wants to establish Russia opposite to the very coasts of Scotland, and would make Russia a first-rate naval power, on purpose to procure cheaper coffee and sugar for her serfs." Now, what is the fact ? Mr. Laing says, it is no unreasonable object of ambition in Russia to get possession, if she can, of an ocean coast, through which her immense population may be supplied with those productions of the tropical climes — cottons, tobaccoes, sugar, coffee, &c, — which, in this age, are the main objects and stimulants of human industry and civilization — that this ocean- coast is the coast of the Scandinavian peninsula, which, if it fell into the hands of Russia, would at once raise her to a first-rate naval power, and would change the face of the civilized world — and that the defence of such a maritime position, of so important a stretch of ocean-coast, ought not to be left, as it would be by the amalgamation of Norway with Sweden, in the hands of a Swedish nobility, who had shown, in our times, that they were capable of selling to Russia the province of,Fiuland, with its Gibraltar, Swea- borg, which were t4ie main bulwarks of Europe, on this side, against Russia, and of selling the crov/n of their native race of princes to a foreigner. Mr. Laing's opinion, which this writer does not venture to quote fairly, is, that the nobility who sold, or permitted to be sold by a faction among themselves, the province of Finland, the islands of Aland,, the fortress of Sweaborg, and the troops under their command ; and who sold, or permitted to be sold, the crown of their native dynasty, without any constitu- tional amelioration, or any political or civil improvement in the condition of the people from the change, but solely for party ad- vantage, may be capital courtiers, excellent irdn manufacturers, may bear high-sounding titles, great historical names, and ribbons at their bulton-l:oles of all the colours of the rainbow, but arc not 30 PREFACE. to be trusted with the defence of an European bulwark — that Norway and her coasts are safer in the hands of her independent noble peasantry, than of a nobility who have shown, in this age, that they are capable of betraying for money all that nobility hold sacred in other countries— the mihtary trusts reposed in them, the sovereign to whom they had sworn allegiance and pledged their honour, the crown of their native dynasty from whom their own titles and distinctions were derived by their ancestors. SAMUEL LAING, Edinburgh^ August^ 1843. m E r A c E FIRST EDITION The changes produced by the French Revolution in the social economy of the European people are so extensive and important, reaching downwards to the very foundation of the former feudal structure of society, that History, it may be truly said, only begins for posterity with this century. The monarchical, aristocratical, and ecclesiastical elements of the former social economy of Eu- rope, even property, law, power, have all been altered in relations, proportions, and intensity of influence; and the living of the gene- ration Avhich witnessed the commencement of the French Revo- lution have, in fifty years, been removed five hundred from the order of things previously established. The events and personages connected with this great convulsion will, no doubt, find their historian ; but the alterations produced by it in the social structure and arrangementsof almost every country are scarcely noticed by our travellers and political writers occupied with the more brilliant scenes or novelties of the age, and the future historian or philoso- pher may even want materials, notwithstanding all the literature of our days, for forming a just estimate of the amount, nature, and tendencies of the changes cfl'ected, or in progress, during this half-century, in the social economy of Europe. The Author of the following Notes has attempted in two preceding works— one on Norway,* and one on Swedent — to collect materials on the * Journal of a Residence in Norway, by Samuel Laiiig. Longmans, London, I A Tour in Sweden, by Samuel Laing. Longmans, 1839. 32 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. social economy of those two countries, which, although distant from the centre of action, have not been beyond the reach of its disturbing force. This work is intended to be a continuation of the same attempt to collect materials for the future historian or philosopher who shall endeavour to describe and estimate the new social elements in Europe which are springing up from, and cov- ering the ashes of, the French Revolution. The author's encouragement to this work is great. His two former volumes have had a success of a kind which literary pro- duction of this humble class rarely attains. The one on Norway turned the public attention, both in England and on the Continent, to that interesting country and its liberal institutions, and assisted in raising around the Norwegian constitution an impregnable barrier of public opinion which the Swedish monarch and his cabinet are forced to respect. The Norwegian constitution guar- anteed to Norway by the Allied Powers, accepted of and sworn to by the Swedish monarch, and made known in all its circum- stances to the European public, cannot now be silently crushed by an unprincipled faction in Sweden as a mere provincial diet existing, as they pretended, only by the suflerance of the sovereign. The volume on Sweden has contributed to open the eyes of the Swedish nation to the demoralizing influences, in its social econo- my, of privileged governing classes, who, within memory of the living generation, assassinated one king, betrayed another, sold for money their military trusts in Finland to the enemy, and sold the crown of their native race of sovereigns to a foreigner. Great and loud was the indignation of those classes against the audacious traveller who had presumed to apply the test of right principle to these historical events in which they had been the agents, to hold up their misdeeds to the reprobation of the moral, the loyal, and the patriotic of every country, and to draw aside the tinsel robe of a third-rate military reputation, behind which they shelter themselves, and to expose the ignorance, disposition to arbitrary rule, and unfounded assumption of merit it conceals. The official published records of the yearly amount of crime in Sweden — that documentary, proof of the demoralizing influence on the Swedish people of the demoralized governing classes — could not be got rid of. In vain those classes attempted in controversial pamphlets to delude the public, to divert attention from the true scource of the evil, to palliate the undeniable excess of crime in Sweden, PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 33 by alleging excess of drunkenness and excess of bad legislation, by which simple police transgressions, punished and recorded as crimes, swell the criminal record. They only proved what they attempted to deny — the misgovernment of privileged classes, who, confounding moral guilt with transgressions against their own conventional regulations in one demoralizing code and ad- ministration of law, brutalize the habits, and deaden the moral sentiments of the people under them. Swedish diplomacy itself — his Excellency Count Biornstierna, minister of his Swedish jNIa- jesty at the court of St. James's — condescended to satisfy the English public, that the allegations and views of the traveller were, to the fullest extent, correct and incontrovertible ; for his excellency published a pamphlet,* professing to be a refutation of " Mr. Laing's calumnies" and " libels against the Swedish nation," in which, with great success, his excellency confirms all he attempts to refute, and refutes all he attempts to confirm. The Swedish public, with the landmarks of their own published official records of crime from Year to year before their eyes, were not to be misled by their noble party writers. The late diet appointed a committee to report upon the social economy of the country, and the amendments necessary in the constitution. Their reporter recommends the abolition of the exclusive privileges and political powers of those classes which have in this age so signally betrayed the material interests, and corrupted the moml interests of their country — an answer in full, and from the Swedish people them- selves, to their noble diplomatic pamphleteer, who, to uphold the tottering power of his order, attempted, in the face of undeniable facts and official documehts, to persuade the world that Sweden is a country eminently moral, particularly well governed by its nobility and their hero-king, and quite contented with its present government. To have contributed in the most insignificant de- gree towards such beneficial movements of the public mind is a great literary success for such trivial literary productions. In this continuation of the same design of collecting materials which may enable the future historian to form a just estimate of the present political and social economy of some portions of the European people, the Author in these Notes pursues the same plan * Mr. Laing's Answer to Count Biomstiema's pamphlet appeared in tlui Monthly Chronicle for November, 1840, published by Longmans, London. 34 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. as in the preceding volumes. Taking historical events, statistical facts, and his own observation in various tours, as a basis, he pro- ceeds from that basis straight forward to his conclusions in political or social economy, regardless of the theories, authorities, or opin- ions that may be jostled out of the road, or of the establishments, classes, or personages whose assumed merits, or false lustre, may be rubbed off in the collision and shock with truth and just principle. SAMUEL LAING, EpjNBiTBQH, January, 1842, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, &c. CHAPTER I. TRAVEL-WRITING.— HOLLAND.— THE SUBLIME IN SCENERY.— THE PIC- TURESQUE IN HOLLAND.— GARDEN HOUSES.— DECAY OF HOLLAND.— CAUSES OF DECAY.— COMMERCIAL DECLINE.— MANUFACTURING STA- BILITY.— USEFUL ARTS.— FINE ARTS.— USEFUL AND FINE ARTS COM- PARED.— USEFUL AND FINE ARTS.— THE POOR IN HOLLAND.— THE POOR IN MANUFACTURING TOWNS.— POOR COLONIES.— KINGLY POWER IN HOLLAND.— BELGIUM.— FEDERALISM.— UNION OF THE TWO COUN- TRIES. — THE FEDERAL PRINCIPLE. — ITS WORKING IN SWITZER- LAND. In the social state of the Continent, as it has settled itself since the great political and moral epoch of the French Revolution, there is a vast Held to explore, which has scarcely been looked at by our Continental travellers. No period since the introduction of Christianity will be considered by posterity of equal importance with this half of the nineteenth century — of equal influence in forming the future social and moral condition of the European people. All the great social influences, moral and physical, which have sprung up from the ashes of the French Revolution, and all the influences accumulating in prior times; — the diffusion of know- ledge by the press ; of sentiments of religious and civil freedom by the Reformation; of wealth, well-being, and political import- ance in the middle class, or those between the nobility and peas- antry of the feudal ages, by trade, manufactures, and industry ; the influence over all ranks, of acquired tastes, and wants un- known to their forefathers; the influence of public opinion over the highest political affairs; and the influence of all the vast disco- veries of the preceding four hundred years, in navigation, science 36 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and the useful arts ; — are, in reality, only coming into full play and operation now, in this half century, upon the social state of Europe. The French Revolution was but the first act in the great social drama. Travellers complain that travel-writing is overdone — that the Continent is exhausted of all its interest. Is it not possi- ble that they themselves are blind to the great interests and influ- ences which would attract the public mind ; that they are con- tinuing to feed the man with the panada and water-gruel of the child ? In these our locomotive days, the hurried public has no leisure to sit listening to the traveller of the old school, piping the little song of his personal adventures in countries as familiar to their imaginations as the county of York. He pours his tale into a sleeping ear, if he has nothing to pour but his personal feelings and adventures, or his voracious doings on the tea and toast of the village inn : he is like a blind beggar trying to amuse the chil- dren of the deaf and dumb asylum with a tune on his fiddle. I am' an excellent travel-reader myself. I eat, drink, and sleep, for my part, with my traveller. I mourn with him, by land, over all the calamities of jolting roads, saucy landlords, scanty dinners, and dirty table-cloths ; and am enchanted, at sea, with the gale, the calm, the distant sail, the piece of sea- weed floating past, the solitary sea-bird skimming round, and all the other memorabilia of a voyage across the Queensferry or the Atlantic. But this school of readers is almost extinct. The reading public of the present day labours under a literary dyspepsia, and has no appe- tite for the former ordinary fare. Diaries, journals, narratives, descriptions, feelings, and wisdom of the first quality, from every corner of the world, have so satiated the omnivorous reader, that results only, the concentrated essences of the traveller's observa- tions, are in demand, — not the detail of petty incidents by which they have been obtained ; the sums total and products, not the items and units of his account current. This fastidiousness of the public taste places the traveller, especially in well-known lands, in an awkward dilemma. The little trivialities of travel, duly recorded as they occur, were very agreeable writing and reading 5 although they certainly mix very discordantly with sta- tistical details or speculations on political and social economy, which not only the philosopher, or the historian, but the ordinary reader of the present day, expects from the Continental traveller. These are not the results or observations of a single incident, or a NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 37 single forenoon, or a single tour, and cannot, with any truth, be interwoven in his accounts of any one day or place. He is obliged to concentrate his observations for the sake of truth, and to meet the public taste ; yet he runs the risk, in doing so, of pro- ducing a work which will lull to sleep, not amuse the reader. The risk must be run. A great field of inquiry and observation on the Continent is open. The traveller may not be the most suit- able literary labourer to explore it; but if his views should be narrow and incorrect, his conclusions ill-founded or egrogiously wrong, still they may be useful by inducing men of higher capa- city to take the same path, to examine the same subjects, and dis- cover what is right and well-founded. In political philosophy the road to truth lies through error. Holland, the land of cheese and butter, is to my eye no unpic- turesque, uninteresting country. Flat it is ; but it is so geome- trically only, and in no other sense. Spires, church towers, bright farm houses — their windows glancing in the sun ; long rows of willow trees— their bluish foliage ruffling up white in the breeze ; grassy embankments of a tender, vivid green, partly hiding the meadows behind, and crowded with glittering, gaudily painted gigs, and stool wagons, loaded with rosy-cheeked, laughing coun- try girls, decked out in ribbons o£ many more colours than the rainbow all a-streaming in the wind ;— these areihe objects which strike the eye of the traveller from seaward, and form a gay front view of Holland, as he sails or steams along its coast and up its rivers. On shore the long continuity of horizontal lines of coun- try in the back ground, each line rising behind the other to a dis- tant, level, unbroken horizon, gives the impression of vastness and of novelty. It is curious how diflereiUly we are impressed by expansion in the horizontal and expansion in the perpendicnlar plane. Take a section of this country spread out horizontally before the eye, four miles or five in length, and one or two in breadth, and it is but a flat, unimpressive plain. But elevate this small unimpressive parallelogram of land to an angle of sixty degrees with the horizon, and it becomes the most sublime of natu- ral objects ; it surpasses Mont Blanc— it is the side of Chimborazo. Set it on edge, and it would overwhelm the beholder with its snblimity. It would be the Hymalaya mountains cut down from their dizziest peak to the level of the ocean — a precipice so sub- lime, that the mind would shrink in terror from its very rccollec- 38 NOTES OP A TRAVELLER. lion. Now why does this section of land, which would be but a small portion of the extent of fiat plain under the eye at once from any little elevation, such as a dyke or a church tower, in this country, pass from the unimpressive through the beautiful, the grand, and to the utmost sublime, by mathematical steps, one may say, and according to its angle of elevation ? The only solution of this fact in the sublimity of natural objects is, that terror is not, as has been assumed by Burke and our greatest philosophers, the cause of the impression of sublimity in the human mind. Terror must be the effect of the sublime ; not its cause, source, or prin- ciple. In this supposed instance of the sublime in nature, power is evidently the cause of that impression — the intuitive mental perception that great unknown power has been exerted to pro- duce this sublime object. It is the feeling, or impression, of this vast power, which produces that feeling of terror allied with and considered the cause, although in reality only the effect, of the sub- lime. This impression of power received from any great and rare deviation from the usual, makes the perpendicular more sublime than the horizontal, the Gothic cathedral than the Grecian temple, the movintain than the plain, the cataract than the lake, the storm than the calm. Unusual vastness, such as the great extent of flat country seen from any of the ^church towers in Holland, is also an expression of power, and is not without its grandeur ; but it never reaches the sublime, because the mind, accustomed to the sight of extension developed horizontally, perceives not the prin- ciple of power in it at once. This sentiment of power may pos- sibly have something to do even with our impression of the beau- tiful in natural objects. The waved line — Hogarth's line of beauty — is agreeable, and the angular, broken, or jagged line, the con- trary; because the one expresses a continuity of power in its for- mation — the other a disturbance, or break, in the action of the forming power. The latter would reach the sublime, if the dis- turbance, or break, were on a great scale, indicating vastness of power. Holland can boast of nothing sublime ; but for picturesque fore- grounds — for close, compact, snug home scenery, with everything in harmony, and stamped with one strong pecuhar character, Hol- land is a cabinet picture, in which nature and art join to produce one impression, one homogeneous effect. The Dutch cottage, with its glistening brick walls, white painted wood work and rails. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 39 and its massive roof of thatch, with the stork clappering to her young on her old-established nest on the top of the gable, is admirably in place and keeping, just where it is — at the turn of the canal, shut in by a screen of willow trees, or tall reeds, from seeing, or being seen, beyond the sunny bight of the still calm water, in which its every tint and part is brightly repeated. Then the peculiar character of every article of the household furniture, which the Dutch-built house-mother is scouring on the green before the door so industriously ; the Dutch character impressed on every- thing Dutch, and intuitively recognized, like the Jewish or Gipsy countenance, wherever it is met with; the people, their dwellings, and all in or about them — their very movements in accordance with this style or character, and all bearing its impress strongly — make this Holland, to my eye, no dull, unimpressive land. There is soul in all you see ; the strongly marked character about every- thing Dutch pleases intellectually, as much as beauty of form itself What else is the charm so universally felt, requiring so little to be acquired, of the paintings of the Dutch school? The objects or scenes painted are neither graceful, nor beautiful, nor sublime ; but they are Dutch. They have a strongly marked mind and character impressed on them, and expressed by them ; and every accompaniment in the picture has the same, and harmonizes witii all around it. The Hollander has a decided taste for the romantic: great amateurs are the Mynheers of the rural. Every Dutchman above the necessity of working to-day for the bread of to-morrow has his garden-house (Buyteplaats) in the suburbs of his town (for the Dutch population lives very much in towns surrounded by wet ditches), and repairs to it on Saturday evening with his family, to ruralize until Monday over his pipe of tobacco. Dirk Hatterick, we are told, did so. It is the main extravagance of the Dutch middle-class man, and it is often an expensive one. This garden- house is a wooden box gayly painted, of eight or ten feet square ; its name, " My Delight," or " Rural Felicity," or " Sweet Soli- tude," stuck up in gilt tin letters on the front; and situated usually at the end of a narrow slip of ground inclosed on three sides with well-trimmed hedges and slimy ditches, and overhanging the canal, which forms the boundary of the garden plot on its fourth side. The slip of land is laid out in flower beds, all the flowers in one bed being generally of one kind and colour; and the brilliancy of 40 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. these large masses of flowers — the white and green paint work and the gilding about the garden houses— and a row of those glittering fairy summer lodges, shining in the sun upon the side of the wide canal, and swimming in humid brilliancy in the midst of plots and parterres of splendid flowers, and with the accompani- ments of gayly dressed ladies at the windows — swiftly passing pleasure boats with bright burnished sides below, and a whole city population afloat, or on foot, enjoying themselves in their holyday clothes — form, in truth, a summer evening scene which one dwells upon with much delight. I pity the taste which can stop to inquire if all this human enjoyment be in good taste or bad taste, vulgar or refined. I stuff" my pipe-, hire a boatman to row me in his schuytje up the canal to a tea garden, and pass the evening as Dutchly and happily as my fellow-men. Holland is the land of the chivalry of the middle classes. Here they may say, in honest pride, to the hereditary lords and nobles of the earth in the other countries of Europe, See what we gro- cers, fish-curers, and ship-owners have done in days of yore, in this little country! But, alas! this glory is faded. In the deserted streets of Delft, and Leyden, and Haarlem, the grass is growing through the seams of the brick pavements ; the ragged petticoat flutters in the wind out of the drawing-room casements of a palace ; the echo of wooden shoes clattering through empty saloons, tells of past magnificence — of actual indigence. This has been a land of warlike deed, of high and independent feeling ; the home of patriots, of heroes, of scholars, of philosophers, of men of science, of artists, of the persecuted for religious or political opinions from every country, and of the generous spirits who patronized and protected them. Why is the Holland of our times no longer that old Holland of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries ? Why are her streets silent, her canals green with undisturbed slime? The greatness of Holland was founded upon commercial pros- perity and capital, not upon productive industry.* Her capital * The heniug fishery of Holland has usually been represented as a branch of productive industry from which her wealth was drawn. Amsterdam is founded, we are told, on herring bones. Sir William Temple, and all political economists since his day, have indulged in gross exaggerations of the impor- tance and value of this branch of productive industry ; and our government has scarcely yet thrown off the mania of legislating, by bounties, boards, and regulations, for an unnatural extension of the British herring fishery — unna- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 41 and industry were not employed in producing what ministers to human wants and gratifications ; but in transmitting what other countries produced, or manufactured, from one country to another. She was their broker. When their capitals, applied at first more beneficially to productive industry, had grown large enough to enter also into the business of circulation, as well as into that of tural because it is production beyond consumption, and is forced by bounties beyond the demand for the article. The following is the present slate of the Dutch herring fishery, viz. : In 1841 — Flardingen has fitted out 79 busses. Delfshaven „ 2 — Zwartwaal - 4 — Mittelhaus - 2 — Schevening - 1 — Pirnis - 1 — Schiedam - 1 — Maassluys /• 16 — Enkhuyzen - 4 — Rip - 6 — Amsterdam - 7 — Total 123 Now suppose each buss to stow 400 barrels — and they are not vessels which can stow more, being small, and lumbered with their nets and provisions — and suppose each to make two trips, and to be a full ship each trip ; this outfit will produce, after all, only 98,400 barrels of herrings, or about double of the quantity usually cured in the county of Caithness. We have no reason to suppose that the real effective market for herrings was ever more extensive than it is now. By dint of bounties, no doubt, the Dutch may have sent out more busses, and cured more fish formerly; but if this increased production was forced beyond the demand and consumption, and the loss made good by the bounty to the producer, which is precisely the working of our bounty- system, in all things as well as in herrings, the country was no gainer by this surplus of production beyond a consumption at a reproductive price. Suppose, in the highest state of prosperity of the Dutch herring fishery, that they had the number of busses at sea which flourish before our eyes in the pamphlets innumerable on the Dutch herring fishery — say that they had 600 or 800, say 1200 sail in any one year, and all full ships; this gives us but 960,000 barrels of herrings, worth about as many pounds sterling. This is probably one-third more of this kind of food than all the markets, including the llussian and West' Indian, ever consumed in one year; but throw it all to the credit of the I')utch herring fishery as clear gain, still it is no great item of national weallh and of production. It is at best a small thing magnified by bounty-fishers into a source of great national wealth. 4 42 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. production— into commerce, properly so called — the prosperity of Holland, founded upon commerce alone, unsupported by a basis of productive industry within herself, and among the mass of her own population, fell to the ground. This is the history of Holland. It speaks an important lesson to nations. The world has witnessed the decline of commercial greatness in Venice, in Genoa, in Florence, in the Hans Towns in Holland — of m.ilitary greatness in Rome, France, Sweden, Prussia; but has yet to learn whether productive greatness, that which is founded upon the manufacturing industry of a people in all the useful arts, be equally fleeting. It seems to rest upon principles in political philosophy of a more stable nature. It is more bound to soil and locality by natural circumstances. The useful metals, coals, fire-power, water-power, harbours, easy transport by sea and land, a climate favourable to out-door labour in winter and summer, are advantages peculiar to certain districts of the earth, and are not to be forced by the power of capital into new locali- ties. Markets may be established anywhere, but not manufac- tures. Human character, also, in the large, is farmed by human employment, and is only removable with it. The busy, active, industrious spirit of a population trained to quick work, and en- ergetic exertion of every power, in the competition of a manufac- turing country, is an unchangeable moral element in its national prosperity, fouVided upon productive industry. Look at an Eng- lishman at his work, and at one of these Dutchmen, or at any other European man. It is no exaggeration to say, that one million of our working men do more work in a twelvemonth, act more, think more, get through more, produce more, live more as active beings in this world, than any three millions in Europe, in the same space of time ; and in this sense I hold it to be no vulgar exaggeration that the Englishman is equal to three or to four of the men of any other country. Transplant these men to England ; and under the same impulse to exertion, and expeditious working habits, which quickens the English working class, they also would exceed their countrymen at home in productiveness. It is not in the human animal, but in the circumstances in which he is placed, that this most important element of national prosperity, this gene- ral habit of quick, energetic, persevering activity, resides ; and these circumstances, formed by nature, are not to be forced into NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 43 any country, independently of natural agency, by mere dint of capital. How little the mass of the people of the Seven United Pro- vinces, the boors or peasants, or even the burgesses of the middle and lower classes, had been acted upon by the wealth and pros- perity of the commercial class in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, may be seen in their dwellings, furniture, clothing, and enjoyments and habits of civilized life. These are all of the make, material, and age prior to the rise of the opulence and power of Holland — of the age of Queen Elizabeth — and have remained, unchanged and unimproved, until that power and opu- lence have fallen again to the level from which they rose. A commercial class, aii aristocracy of capitalists, numerous perhaps as a moneyed body, but nothing as a national mass, were alone acted upon by this commercial prosperity ; and when trade gra- dually removed to other countries, the Dutch capitalist, without changing his domicil, easily transferred his capital to where the use of it was wanted and profitable. Holland remains a coiuitry full of capitalists and paupers; her wealth giving little employ- ment, comparatively, to her own population in productive in- dustry, and adding little to their prosperity, well-being, and habits of activity in producing and enjoying the objects of civilized life. The dilference of national mind, or character, in countries of which the wealth rests upon commerce, from that where it rests upon productive industry, is curiously brought out in the ditfer- eiice of their application to, and estimation of, the fine arts. In Italy, and in Holland, the social condition of great commercial wealth, with cotnparatively little employment given by it to the mass of the people, called into existence painters, sculptors, archi- tects; furnished artists, and encouragement for thcm — that is, demand and taste for their works. It was the main outlet for the activity of the public mind, and for the excess of capital beyond what could be profitably engaged in commerce. But a national mind formed, like that of the English people, in the school of productive industry, seeks the shadow at least of utility, even in its most extravagant gratifications. Horses, hounds, carriages, a seat in parliament, yachts, gardens, pet-farms, are tlie objects in which great wealth in England indulges, nuich more freciucntly than in grand palaces, fine jewels, valuable pairuings, delightful music. Of other tastes connected with the fine arts. The turn of 44 ' NOTES OF A TRAVELLEB, the public mind is decidedly towards the useful arts ; for which all, high and low, have a taste differing not so much in kind as in the means and scale of its gratification. Capital can be so much more extensively employed in reproduction in the useful arts, where a whole population has a taste for and consumes their objects, that the excess to be invested in objects of the fine arts is surprisingly small in England, considering the vast amount and difl'asion of her v/ealth. What is not useful, at least in appear- ance, is but lightly esteemed as an expenditure of money, A duke and his shoemaker, or tailor, or tenant, have precisely the same tastes, lay out their excess of capital in objects of the same nature, in gratifications of the same kind : differing only in cost, not in principle. Look, in England, into the tradesman's parlour, kitchen, garden, stable, way of living, amusements, and modes of gratification — all are in the same taste as the riobleman's: the same principle of utility runs through all. The cultivated, or acquired tastes for the fine arts, for music, painting, sculptnrey architecture, are little, if at all, more developed among the higher or wealthier classes, than among the middle or lower classes. England at this day, with ten thousand times the V/^ealth, furnishes no such demand for and supply of objects of the fine arts as Florence, Genoa, or Holland did, in the days of their prosperity. Is this peculiar development of the national mind of the English people, this low appreciation and social influence of the fine arts compared to the useful among them, matter of just regret, as many amateurs consider it ^ or is it matter of just and enlightened exaltation, that our social condition has advanced so far beyond that of any civilized people v/ho have preceded us, that the tastes and gratifications which the few only of great wealth and great station in a community can cultivate, and enjoy, are as nothing in the mass of intellectual and bodily employment which the many give, by the demands upon intellect and industry, for their gratifications? What, after all, is the real value, in the social condition of man, of the fine arts? Are they not too highly estimated— raised by prejudices, inherited from aperiod of intellectual culture far be- hind our ov/n, into a false importance ? Do they contribute to the well-being, civilization, and intellectuality of mankind, as much as the cultivation of the useful arts? Do they call into activity higher mental powers, or more of the moral qualities of NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 45 human nature, than the useful arts? Is the painter, the sculptor, the musician, the tlieatrical performer, generally a more cultivated, more intellectual, more moral member of society, a man approach- ing nearer to the highest end and perfection of human nature, than the engineer, the mechanician, the manufacturer? Is Rome, the seat of the fine arts, upon a higher, or so high a grade, in all that distinguishes a civihzed community, as Glasgow, INIancliester, or Birmingham — the seats of the useful arts? Are Scotland and the United States of America — without a good picture,^a good statue, or a good palace within tlieir bounds, and without more taste, feeling or knowledge in the fine arts, among the mass of the people, than among so many New Zealanders — very far below Italy, or Bavaria, with their fine arts, tastes, and artists, as moral and intellectual communities of civilized men? Is a picture, a statue, or a building, so high an effort of the human powers, intellectual and bodily, as a ship, a foundry, a cotton mill, whh all their complicated machineries and combinations ? We give, in reality, an undue importance to the fine arts — reckon them important, because they minister to the gratification, and are among the legitimate and proper enjoyments of kings and im- portant personages; but, like the military profession, or the servile employments about a royal court, their importance is derivative only — is founded on prejudice or fashion, not on sound philoso- phic grounds. If the exercise of mental and physical power over inert matter for the advantage of man — if moral and physical improvement in our social condition be the standards by which he importance of human action and production should, in reason, be measured, (and to what other standard can they be applied ?) the fine arts may descend from the pedestals on which the court literature of the age of Louis XIV had placed them in France, and in the little imitative German courts, and range themselves in the rear of the modern applications of science and genius to the useful arts. Rafaelle, Michael Angelo, Canova — immortal artists! sublime producers! what are ye in the sober estimation of reason ! The Arkwrighfs, the Watts, the Davys, the thousands of scientific inventors and producers in the usehil arts, in our ago, must rank before you, as wielders of great intellectual powers lor great social good. The exponent of the civilization and intel- lectual and social progress of man, is not a statue, but a steam engine. The lisping amateur, hopping about the saloons of the 46 NOTES OF A TRAVELLEB. great, ma}'' prattle of taste, and refined feeling in music, scolptnre;^ painting, as humanizing influences in society, as effective means and distinguishing proofs of the diffusion of civilization among mankind ; but the plain, undeniable, knock-me-down truth is, that the Glasgow manufacturer., whose printed cotton handker- chiefs the traveller Landers found adorning the woolly heads of negresses far in the interior of Africa, who had never seen a white human facCy has done more for civilization, has extended humari- izing influences more widely, than all the painters, sculptors, architects, and musicians of our age put together. Monstrous Vandalism, but true. The Dutch are mostly caged in half-empty large towns, or vil- lages. To live a town life in the country, or a country life in the town, is the most insipid and unsatisfactory of all ways of passing life. Except in pictures, and in the novelty and character of their home-scenery, which is often a Dutch picture in real, Holland and its inhabitants are, in fact, not attractive. The climate is damp, raw, and cold for eight months ; hot and unwholesome, for four. The Dutch people, eminently charitable and benevolent as a public, their country full of beneficent institutions admirably conducted and munificently supported, are as individuals some- what rough, hard, and, although it be uncharitable to say so, uncharitable and unfeeling. We have, too, at home, our excel- lent benevolent men, who will subscribe their sovereign, or their twenty, to an hospital, house of refuge, or missionary or charita- ble society for the relief or instruction of the poor ; but, on prin- ciple, withold their penny from the shivering female on their door-steps, imploring alms for the pale, sickly infant in her arms. They are right on principle and consideration, quite right; but one is not particularly in love with such quite-right people. The instinct of benevolence in the heart is worth a whole theory of such political economy in the head. Here, in Holland, the priva- tions and misery of the poor are necessarily very severe, the labouring class having very little agricultural work to turn to, as the land is mostly under old grass for dairy husbandry; and eveu the enclosures, being wet ditches, not hedges or walls, require few annual repairs; no manufacturing employment of any conse- quence, and, in fact, no work, except the transport of goods from the seaports to the interior. Fuel, too, that greatest item, next la food, in a poor man's comfort, is scarce and dear, being priaci- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 47 pally of peat-mud scooped out of the bogs in the interior of the country, and baked in the sun like bricks. The centre of the province of Holland is excavated like a great lagoon, by the ex- traction of peat for ages. A small earthen dish of live embers enclosed in a perforated wooden box,is carried about by the women of the poor, and even of the middle class ; and when they sit down to work, is put under their petticoats, and is the principal firing in the winter life of the poor female. The effect of the scarcity of fuel, or of the economy of it, in the Dutch household, is visible in the usual costume of the working and middle classes. The proverbial multiplicity of the Dutchman's integuments of his nether man, and the tier above tier of petticoat which makes his bulky frow a first-rate under sail, are effects of the dearness of fuel in a raw, cold, damp clime. In our manufacturing t%\vns, the poor, however badly off, have more advantages in fuel, lodging, and occasional work produced by manufacturing establishments, than in towns of greater wealth, arising from commerce, or from the fixed incomes of capitalists, landholders, and public functionaries. Edinburgh, for instance, is not a seat of manufactures. We see a wealthy or well-off up- per class in it; a thriving, well-to-do middle class, living by their expenditure; and the class below, living by the family work and handicrafts required by the other two, not very ill-off either ; but dive to the bottom of society, even in Edinburgh, where fuel and fish are cheap and land work and building work not scarce, but, on the contrary, taking off much common labour at all seasons, and you find the surplus of the labouring class, beyond what the other two classes regularly employ, in extreme distress from the want of manufactures on a great scale circulating employment around them. Now Holland is just one such great city spread over a small country ; and not a manufacturing city, but such a city of capitalists, and of middle-class people living by their ex- penditure, affording no labour to the lowest class— nothing but city work, as tradesmen, family servants, and porters, seamen, or bargemen. The two upper classes, and those they employ of the lower class, may be well enough off; but such emj)loyment is stationary, has no principle of an increase in it keeping pace, in some degree, with the growth of population ; and the surplus, who cannot find work in such a social body, is more wretched than in anv other land. 48 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. After the peace of 1816, Holland was among the first countries in Europe that was obliged to grapple with a pauperism which threatened to subvert all social arrangements. She established poor colonies on some of the barren, sandy tracts of back coun- try, above and behind the rich alluvial delta of the Rhine and Scheldt. In 1821, when Holland and Belgium, united in one monarchy, were recovering from the unsettled idle state in which countries exposed to the agitations and vicissitudes of war are kept — and which is the greatest evil of war — the total population of the two was 5,715,347; and of these 753,218 persons, or 1 person nearly in ev^ery 7i of the population, was supported by public charity. The proportion of this pauperism which belonged to Holland and Belgium, severally, is not mentioned ; but from the very different social state of the two populations— that of Holland altogether commercial and agricultural, that of Belgium manufacturing as well as agricultural, and scarcely at all com- mercial — it would have been interesting to have seen distinctly the effects on pauperism of the two distinct elements, commercial activity and manufacturing industry. The total pauperism ap- pears to have exceeded, in 1821, the highest proportion of the population of England that was ever supported, wholly or in part, by poor rate. It is generally understood that 1 in 8 of the population was the greatest proportion in England, when poor- rates v/ere under no regulation, that ever received parochial re- lief The rich alluvial delta which the Scheldt, the Rhine, with its branches the Maese, the Waal, the Yssel, and many smaller waters, form around the great inlets, of the sea^ the Biesbos, the Zuyder Zee, and the Dollert, are bounded on the land side by a frame of barren sandy ground of very little elevation above the rich land — the richest soil, perhaps, to be found north of the Alps — which it adjoins, but of very different fertility. A stunted heath growing from a thin covering of peat earth which hides only in patches the rough sand and gravel, is the principal natural vegetation. In some spots the pine exists rather than flourishes, and shallow pools are found in the hollows which have any soil in the bottom sufficiently tenacious to retain the rain-water. Un- promising as this land may appear for agricultural purposes, there is good reason for supposing that some of the best tracts of Flan- ders, and which now are the most fertile in the north of Europe, have originally been of the same quality. About Breda, and in NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 49 many other districts, spots of the original land untouched as yet by cultivation, remain visible as an encouragement to industry. But it is not an individual, nor a generation that can reclaim a barren waste with advantage. Yet it may be done by the labour of many successive generations applied, without intermission, to the same spot. Such improvement carries no profit with it. Capital is thrown away, and labour is not repaid for many gene- rations, unless a scanty subsistence from the soil be a rcpaynient for the labour of cultivating it. Yet if the land be the labourer's own, he will put up with that recompense. Each succeeding generation is better off, by the gradual improvement of the soil from continued cultivation. The foot of man itself leaves fertility behind it ; and the poorest inhabited spot is always superior to the waste around it, and always in proportion to the length of time it has been used. The basis of this improvement of the uncultivated land of a country is undoubtedly population settled as proprietors, and working on small garden-like portions, from generation to generation. Large operations with outlay of capital, and hired labour, and the system of large farming, rarely succeed in reclaiming land, and still more rarely afford a real profit, even when attempted on single fields adjoining a cultivated large farm. The first operation in reclaiming land from a state of nature is certainly to plant it with men. The Dutch began, in 1818, to plant poor colonies in the barren tract behind the Zuyder Zee. A society of subscribers to a fund for the diminution of pauperism, aided by assistance from govern- ment, purchased an estate near Steenwyk, a small town in that tract of country, and commenced a poor colony, called Frederics- oort, with fifty-two families sent from different parishes which had subscribed to the fund. The whole cost 56,000 florins, or about 4650/. sterling, and its extent was about 1200 acres, of which about 200 had been cultivated, or at least laid into the shape of fields. The poor quality of the land may be imagined from its price. Each family, consisting on an average of six per- sons of all ages, and settled on an allotment of seven acres, was found to cost in outfit, including the expense of their house, furni- ture, food, and seed for one year, clothing, flax, and wool for their spinning, land for their cultivating, and two cows, about 1700 florins, or 141/. 10*. sterling ; and in 16 years the colonist was expected to repay this advance by the surplus production of his 50 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. labour, besides maintaining his faraily. A strict system of co-op- erative and coercive labour, under discipline, as in a penal work- house, was established. The colonist worked by the piece, under inspection of overseers, was paid by a ticket, according to fixed rates for the different kinds of work, and the ticket was good for rations of food, or stores, at the shop or magazine of the society, deUvered at fixed and moderate prices. The allotment of land was to become ultimately the colonist's own property, when he had cleared the 1700 florins of advance; and, by good conduct and industry, he could obtain various indulgences and encourage- ments during the 16 years which were required to clear that sum according to the calculations of the society. The founder of this establishment was a Dutch oflicer. General Van der Bosh, who had seen in the East Indies, among the Chinese settlers in Java, the great agricultural results from the co-operative labour of small proprietors of land. With the people he had to deal — the pau- pers of town populations, with vice and idleness, as well as want and misery, in their social composition— he had to establish the arrangements and discipline, both as to rewards and punishments, of a penal colony. Constant employment under overseers was the fundamental law. The free proprietorship of the land at the end of 16 years was the ultimate reward ; and medals for good conduct, and indulgences in the liberty of going about, were minor intermediate rewards. The punishments were confine- ment and hard labour in a small town called Omme Schantz. The parishes which subscribed to the funds of the society 5100 guilders, or 425/., had the privilege of sending three families or housekeepings, two of them consisting of six grown persons each, and the third of six orphans, or foundlings, not under six years of age, and a married couple with them, to manage for the children. For the maintenance of each child, 160 guilders, or 5/., was to be paid yearly. It appears that, in 1826, the poor colony at Wortel, near Antwerp, established on the same plan, contained 125 farms, and the managers of it had contracted to take 1000 paupers for 13 years, at 35 guilders, or 585. 4d. sterling, per head yearly. In all, 20,000 persons were reckoned in 1826 in these poor colonies of Frederics-oort and Wortel. The separation of Holland and Belgium was of course unfa- vourable to the progress of this great experiment on pauperism. I found on visiting the pauper colony of Wortel, in 1841, that NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 51 not one colonist had prospered so far as to repay the advance, according to the prospectus given out at its establishment in 1 S22 : and that of 125 farms in cultivation in 1823, and 1000 paupers contracted for, only 21 families are now remaining. It may be thought that this Belgian division of the great experiment on pauperism is scarcely to be taken as a fair example of its feasi- bility, because it has not received from the present Belgian govern- ment the same fostering aid and encouragement as it did, and that of Frederics-oort still does, from the former Dutch government, the scheme having been specially favoured and cherished by the late or ex-king of Holland. But his schemes were not always the most judicious. This establishment at Wortel had the advantage of four years' expe- rience of the system as carried on at Frederics-oort, which was established in ISIS; it had the advantage of being established by Captain Van der Bosh, the son of the original proposer ; it had the advantage, if any, of all the government aid from 1822 till the separation of Belgium and Holland ; and it has since had the real and, for the political economist, much greater advantage of having been left by government to its own resources, to the efficacy of its own principles. It has proved a failure : the colo- nists who remain are, however, very far above pauperism. Their crops, houses, clothing, indicate very considerable prosperity ; but a good house which cost forty pounds sterling, seven acres of land, very barren to be sure, being mere sandy heath, but still capable of improvement, and requiring no draining or clearing of rocks, roots, trees, or obstructions, arc data upon which a pauper may well become rich for his station, if work also be found him for four days in the week, and paid for in rations of food, or in stores, and the other two days allowed him for working upon his own rent- free land. The question is, whether the work found for him by the public pays its cost, the wages paid for it either in rations of food, or in stores. The work consists in planting or cutting down trees; in fencing and preparing land for cultivation ; in cultivat- ing the land which, in part at least, is to furnish the paupers them- selves with rations for their own subsistence ; and also, as in-door employment, in spinning, weaving, and manufacturing all that is used, or issued in the colony. Poor-rate and workhouse labour, applied in this way, is undoubtedly a better general system than if they arc applied to the supply of the ordinary markets of a 52 NOTES OF A THAVELLER. country, with the same articles which give employment to the classes who are but just one step above pauperism. If every work- house or poor-house in the kingdom maintained itself by the value and sale of the work of its inmates, in shoemaking, weaving, rope- making, and such ordinary crafts as are carried on in work-houses, the system would just drive so much unaided, independent in- dustry, into the poor-house : for the single unaided tradesman, with house-rent, fuel, light, cost of raw materials of his product, and risk of its sale, all against him, could not stand against the competition of such assisted pauper- work. It is a wise principle, therefore, and in so far this pauper colony has been well con- sidered, to apply pauper or penal labour only to the production of what the pauper or convict establishment consumes within itself. In the same barren tract of sandy heath in which the pauper colony of Wortel is established, there is a penal colony of about 600 convicts. They are worked under overseers, like all convict gangs,''but in farm work, and producing their own neces- saries, and they thus raise some portion, at least, of their own food and clothing. It does not appear that escape is frequent ; and classification by separate working gangs, in this out-door work of which all are capable, may be obtained without seclu- sion. The crops of rye, clover, flax, potatoes, buckwheat, raised on this barren land, both in the penal and in the pauper colony at Wortel, are very fine, and when one sees the miserable, sandy, sterile, heath-land, out of which these fertile spots have been created, foot by foot, as it were, by the most minute labour, and the most careful manuring, the ultimate failure with us of almost every attempt to bring such barren wastes into fertility by grand applications of labour and capital to a large area at once, is easily accounted for. The repetition of work on the same spot, the exposure of it by repeated turnings to the influence of the atmo- sphere, the admixture of manure almost by hand, with every particle of the raw, barren soil, are operations which even capital cannot command, and which hired work upon the large scale cannot profitably accomplish. It is the time only, and that time not valued, of the small proprietor, which can fertilize, bit by bit, such land. It is, in one view, certainly not a profitable application of time and labour. They are not repaid in money or other \,''alue within any moderate period. In another view, it is profit- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 53 able; the man who would be a pauper, feeds himself by his time and labour, and adds a little, however little, to the perpetual pro- ductiveness of his little farm. This land of flowers and of frogs is marvellously ill-adapted for the bed of royalty. Kingly government, a court, and nobility, are not in harmony with the character, habits, tastes, manners, ways of thinking and living, and established social economy of this commercial, counting-house population, who for ages have been strangers to conventional rank and influence, either hereditary, military, or literary, or to any other social distinction than what a man acquires for himself on 'change. Such property and in- fluence are too variable in society to be a secure basis for kingly power. They owe nothing to it. Competition, disunion, and change, enter also more into them than into the element of landed property, whi.ch seems to be the only stable basis for monarchical government. Men who have acquired their own personal pro- perty and social weight, submit unwillingly to irresponsible royal management ; and a public bred, individually, to guide their own affairs, will not sit passive, and see them guided by a king and cabinet. They scrutinize too rigidly, perhaps, the royal doings, and have too little respect for royal dignity. The ex-king of Holland landed at Schevening, in 1813, with his portmanteau, and a bunch of orange ribbons at his breast. His majesty retired from business in 1841, the richest individual in Europe, worth, it is said, above twenty millions of pounds sterling. The recognition by law of 14th of May, 1814, of all the old and forgotten state debts or obligations of Holland, was the origin of this enormous wealth. These old state paper debts were considered to be as worthless as the assignats of the French Republic, and, until their acknowledg- ment in 1814, were sold for a small value. By the stock-jobbing with the syndicats for paying off these state obligations, from 1822 — 1830, and by the establishment of the Bank of Brussels, of which his majesty was a principal stockholder, immense sums were gained. Besides, the exclusive management of the revenues of the East India colonies without any obligation to render ac- counts of it, was, by a questionable interpretation of the 60tli article of the Ground Law of the kingdom of the Netherlands, held to belong to, and was exercised by the sovereign. In a trading country like Ilollaifd, and an exhausted country, with a population of only 2,700,000 people, and a debt of 1121) millions 54 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of guilders bearing interest, and of 316 millions of old debt gradually to be redeemed, in short, with a taxation which cannot be pushed above 52i millions and a yearly expenditm-e of 72,- 183,500 guilders to provide for; the accumulation of wealth of such enormous amount by the head of the state, as a private man, is looked upon with no very dutiful eye. It cannot be concealed, that the monarchical principle lias been seriously injured in Hol- land, Sweden, and France, by the money-making, stock-jobbing propensities of the sovereigns. A king, in these censorious times, cannot turn an honest penny in trade, or stock-jobbing, like another man, without losing that isolation from all private inte- rests and feelings which is the essential in the royal position, and the main support of the monarchical principle in the human mind. In many branches of trade " one man's gain is another man's loss," according to the apprehension of the public ; and where this relation steps in between king and people — the king the gainer, the people the loser — the prestige of loyalty to the mil- lionaire-monarch is gone. He is but a Rothschild on the throne. In Holland, where material interests have long been predominant, and are well understood, the successful application of their ex- king to his private material interests has not added to the real power or stability of the throne. The incompatibility of the state of society, public opinion, and property, with kingly power, has shown itself in several recent transactions. The Dutch people will not tolerate irresponsible ministers in the management of public affairs. They carry their point in spite of the king. They will not tolerate in their sovereign, what in Prussia, and in all the German states in which monarchy is supported by a basis of aristocracy and landed property, is considered a laudable privilege of royalty — that, for royal convenience, morality, and the ordinary religious obligations and forms of marriage, should be set aside, and a left-handed, morganatic, or mock marriage should give a sanction to what would not be sanctioned by public opinion, as right and moral in persons of private station. The Dutch choose that their kings shall be subject, like other men, to the ordinary rules of morality, religion and prudence. They carry their point. Public opinion, ever on the side of morality when fairly brought out by the voice of a whole people, beats down with contempt, in such a community, the courtly attempts to slur over vvhat is morally wrong; and their king, anxious to marry a private per- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 55 son, resigns before its voice ; for public opinion is here a state power. The natural tendency of a society so constituted as this, and with such moral power, is to arrive at the plain conclusion, and the determination, too, that their king ought to be but the president, and executive head, of their commonwealth. Tlie total separation of Holland and Belgium was a false step for the welfare of both. They should have divorced each other, the two little countries, from bed and board only. The one country is necessary to the other, and neither has the means to support a distinct housekeeping. Holland has capital, commerce, and mag- nificent colonies, but has nothing of her own manufacturing to send to her colonies, no productions of her own industry to ex- change with their industry, no commerce in any products of her own. Belgium has manufacturing industry, and the raw mate- rials on which it works, coal-fields, iron-works, and many pro- ductive capabilities ; but has no colonies, no outlets, no markets, no ships, no commerce. With the Prussian manufacturing pro- vinces on the land side, England on the sea-side, and no shipping or sea ports, but two, Antwerp and Ostend, and no free river trade even to the consumers on the continent behind her, Belgium is like the rich man in the fable, shut up with his treasures in his own secret closet, and starving to death in the midst of his gold, because he cannot unlock the door. These two little states will come together again before a hundred years go over their heads — not as one monarchy, for both want the foundation in their social structure for monarchical government to stand upon — but as two independent states federally united under one general goverimient, like the United States of America, or the Swiss cantons. The principle of federalism has not been sufiiciently examined by political philosphers. Theoretically, it is better adapted to the wants of man in society than the principle of great monarchical dominions under a sole central government, wheresoever the phy- sical, or moral interests of the governed are discordant, wliercso- ever the rights and advantages of one mass of population, their prosperity, industry, well-being, property, natural benefits of soil, situation, and climate, their manners, language, religion, nation- ality in spirit or prejudice, are set aside, and sacrificed to those of another mass. In almost all extensive monar^'.hies this must be the case, from the centralization inseparable from that species of 56 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. general government. Federalism seems a more natural and just principle of general government, theoretically considered, than this forced centralization. No rights or advantages of any of the parts are sacrificed in federalism, for nothing is centralized but what is iiecessarjT^ for the external defence, safety, and welfare of all the parts. The peculiar internal welfare of each part, according to its own peculiar internal circumstances, physical and moral, according to its own political idiosyncrasy, is in its own keeping, in its own internal legislative and administrative powers. As civilization, peace, and industry acquire an influence in the aff'airs of mankind, which the individual ambition of a sovereign, or the ignorance and evil passions of a government will not be allowed to shake, the superiority of small independent states federally united, each extending over such territory, or masses of society only, as can be governed together, without the sacrifice of one part to another, and each interested in the general civiUzation, peace and industry, will probably be acknowledged by all civilized populations. Junc- tions morally or physically discordant, as that of Belgium and Holland, Austria and Lombardy, districts and populations on the Vistula and Niemen, with districts and populations onUhe Rhine and Moselle, are political arrangements which lack any principle of permanency founded upon their benefits to the governed. Na- ture forbids, by the unalterable diflerences of soil, climate, situation, and natural advantages of country, or by the equally unalterable moral diff'erences between people and people, that one government can equally serve all— be equally suited to promote the utmost good of all. Federalism involves a principle more akin to natural, free, and beneficial legislation, and to the improvement of the social con- dition of man, than governments in single extensive states, holding legislative and executive powers over distant and distinct countries and populations, whether such governments be constitutional or despotic. It is much more likely to be the future progress of society, that Europe in the course of time, civilization, and the increasing influence of public opinion on all public affairs, will resolve itself into one great federal union of many states, of extent suitable to their moral and physical peculiarities, like the union of the American states, than that those American states will, in the course of time and civilization, fall back into separate, uncon- nected, and hostile monarchies and aristocracies, which some mo- dern travellers in America assure us is their inevitable doom. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 57 With all respect for their gifts of prophecy, the tendency of human afiairs is not to retrograde towards the old, but to advance towards the new, towards a higher physical, moral, and religious condi- tion; towards forms of government in which the interests of the people shall be directed by the people, and for the people. Moral and intellectual power is leavening the whole mass, and not merely the upper crust of European society. The political balance of power among the European governments, if the idea could be carried out to its utmost completeness and permanency, is in reality a homage to the principle of federalism, an imperfect ap- proximation to a federal union of the European powers — imper- fect, because the interests of kingdoms territorially or dynastically considered as family estates, not the distinct physical and moral interests of the different masses of the European population, are attempted to be federalized. Yet this imperfect principle of fed- eralism is eminently successful in the political federation of the Germanic states. This federation acts with dignity and power. In Switzerland, and in America, the constitution of the central federated power may be imperfect, may be too strong, or not strong enough; or even the stale of society may not be ripe for the federal constitution adopted, and may, as yet, want a class removed by education and fortune from the temptation of turning public affairs to their private pecuniary advantage ; but still the principle of federalism, theoretically considered, appears more rea- sonable and suitable to the well-being of society than the mon- archical, and appears to be that towards which civilized and educated society is naturally tending in its course. The German custom-house union, or commercial league, is a remarkable indi- cation of the irresistible tendency of social economy in modern times towards the principle of federalism. Kings and governments are often but the blind agents in these vast spontaneous movements of society. In this great measure of federalizing the German popu- lations for the regulation and advancement of their industrial and commercial interests, is involved a principle which must neces- sarily extend to the constitutional and political rights and interests of these communities ; and one altogether incompatible with the principle and system of the very governments and kings who at present lead this movement of the social body in Germany. The efficiency of the federal principle in the political condition of states has been impressively brought out in modern history, in 5 58 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the two little countries at the opposite extremities of the Rhine — in Holland and in Switzerland. In both countries, national en- ergy and moral strength" of character have been more vigorously displayed, even in the most recent times, than in any of the small neighbouring monarchies. It would be a ridiculous contrast to compare the histories of the passive Danish, Hanoverian, Bava- rian, or Wurtemburg populations with those of the Dutch or Swiss nations. The obstinate struggle of the Dutch to retain possession of Belgium was a lingering spark of their old federal patriotism and strength of character, still glowing beneath a royal government too recent in a country of such republican habits and spirit as Holland, to kindle, for its own sake, a spark of loyalty. If Holland had been restored, on the expulsion of the French in 1814, to her ancient federal constitution, with a stadtholder instead of a king, and with Belgium as one of the states of the confede- ration, the cause of the rupture — the interference with the local advantages or prejudices of the one portion of the new-baked kingdom, for the sake of the other— the centralization-attempt of the late King of Holland for giving effect to the monarchical prin- ciple of extending one consolidated power, one language, law, and religion over all, would never have existed. Belgium, as one of the united or federal states, would have retained her own in- ternal laws, language, regulations, and social arrangements, as independently as Holland, and yet have been as effective a mem- ber of one state in the European family as the canton of Bern is in the Swiss confederation, or as the province of Holland, or that of Zealand, was in that of the Seven United Provinces, or as the state of New York is in the American. If the balance of power in Europe required, in 1815, one political state or power of some weight, and of independent existence, on this side of the great monarchies, France and Prussia, and in possession of the great battle-field on which almost all European warfare has ultimately been decided, that necessity or policy exists now in full strength. The separation of the two countries is a breach of the settlement of Europe, which can only be remedied by uniting them in that way in which alone they will submit to be united, viz., as one federal state in the European system, like the Swiss. As two in- dependent monarchies, it is evident that neither has the means to maintain herself in a neutral state, and on the first warlike move- ment in Europe, France will, and for her own self-defence must NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 59 of necessity re-occupy Belgium, as being a country too weak to cover France by a showof neutrality which the power of Belgium alone cannot maintain. Without any great convulsion in Europe by war, it is even possible that, by the extension of the new ele- ment in European policy — the principle of the German commercial league — Belgium will become, dc facto, united to France, united by all its material interests, and Holland to Prussia, or to the German commercial league, if that assume, as it is fast doing, a distinct political existence as a federated power in Europe. Holland will have the best of the bargain in this new shape of aflairs to which the political state of Europe is tending. She will hold the keys of the outlet and inlet of all the material interests of Germany, and, possessing the colonies, ports, and shipping through which these must work, will in reality be the head of the new European power of 26 millions of people federated by the commercial league. Prussia will be but a branch of this new power. Belgium, taking the opposite side, viz., the French commercial alliance, will in reality be the department of the Scheldt governed by a king in- stead of a prefect. The jealousy of republican institutions which, in 1815, prevented the restoration of the federal constitution of Holland under a stadtholder, and forced monarchy upon countries devoid of the principles, in their social economy and habits, on which monarchical government rests, is beginning now to reap the fruits it sowed. The Swiss were more fortunate than the Dutch on the remodel- ling of Ein-ope in 1815, and retained the principle of federalism in the general government of their two-and-twenty distinct, and. in language, religion, laws, and constitutions for internal govern- ment, widely different states. They act well together as a fede- rated European power. The general executive government of these little Swiss states made a dignified and determined stand against the demonstrations and menaces of France, on the ques- tion of the expulsion of Prince Louis Buonaparte from Switzer- land. It was for the principle of their integrity and honour, and of the protection given by all to the citizen of any one of their states, — and Monsieur Buonaparte had unluckily acquired citizen- ship in the state of Bern — that the Swiss people were ready to a man to encounter the chances of war with the French monarch, and were actually under arms, and suffering the evils of war in their commercial industry, interests, and communications. Would 60 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. any of the neighbouring monarchical states, Wurtembiirg, Baden, Hesse, have assumed so dignified and determined a position as the Swiss cantons did on this occasion, upon a question of prin- ciple, and of the protection due to a citizen ? Prince Louis Buo- naparte was nothing in the movement ; was but the fly on the chariot wheel fancying he was kicking up all the dust around him. When the prince became sensible — and it was not too soon — that he was personally not thought of in tlie question by the Swiss people, and found himself in the mortifying position of being the cause, without, in the slightest degree, being the object of the impending rupture, he took himself off, and the question was at once at an end. This trifling affair, however, may give the political philosopher something to reflect on. This federal bundle of apparently discordant materials, when a question arose to be met with national spirit and united vigour, showed itself thoroughly nationalized, and prepared to act : and the readiness of federated Switzerland to hazard all in defence of a just prin- ciple, and of monarchical France to break through all interna- tional principle, shows that federalism is not always weak, nor always wrong. CHAPTER ir. FRANCE— FACE OF THE COUNTRY.— OF ENGLAND— OLD SUBDIVISION OF LAND^ IN ENGLAND.— GREAT SOCIAL EXPERIMENT IN FRANCE— ABO- LITION OF PRIMOGENITURE.— OPINIONS OF ARTHUR YOUNG— MR. BIR- BECK— EDINBURGH REVIEWERS— DR. CHALMERS REVIEWED.— EF- FECTS OF THE DIVISION OF LAND IN FRANCE EXAMINED.— FRENCH CHARACTER— MORALS— HONESTY— DECIMAL DIVISION OF WEIGHTS AND MEASURES, WHY NOT POPULAR. The traveller should either know a great deal about the country he is going to visit, or nothing at all ; and perhaps his readers would find themselves better off with his ignorance than his knowledge. . He is very apt to shut one eye, and look with the other through a coloured glass which he has been at great pains to stain with the opinions and prejudices of other people, and which gives its own hue to everything he sees through it. In politics, political economy, and the fine arts, most people can only see through their neighbours' spectacles. In France it is particularly difficult to exert the rare faculty of seeing through one's own eyes. France is a moral volcano which has shaken to the ground ancient social structures, laws, governments, and the very ideas, principles, or prejudices which supported them. Who of this generation can approach the crater of such mighty movements, and conscien- tiously say that he is able to examine them calmly, philosophically, without preconceived theories or speculations upon their causes- or tendencies? Every reflecting traveller admits that the great elements of change in the social condition of Europe which were thrown out by the French revolution are only now beginning to work powerfully ; that the most important and permanent of its results have been moral, not political; that in reality the French revolution is but in its commencement, as a great social movement. So far all observers of the times we live in travel together: but here they diverge. Each observes the agencies brought info ope- ration upon the mass of the European people by the French revolution, through the distorting medium of the opinions and prejudices of his own country, class, or social position as an indi- 62 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. vidual, and reasons and prophesies only upon the shapes and colours which he sees through this false medium. Am I in a condition to see with clearer eyes? I doubt it. I do not profess it. The traveller in France finds much to observe, but little to de- scribe. The landscape is a wearisome expanse of tillage land unvaried by hill and dale, stream and lake, rock and woodland. The towns and villages are squatting in the plains, like stranger beggar-women tired of wandering in an unknown land. No suburbs of connected rows of houses and gardens, and of lanes dotted with buildings, trees, and brick walls, stretch, as in England, like feelers into the country, fastening the towns to it by so many lines, that the traveller is in doubt where country ends and town begins. Here, the towns and villages are distinct, round, inhabited patches upon the face of the land, just as they are represented upon a map : and the flat, monotonous surface of the map is no uncharacteristic sketch of the appearance of the country. La belle France, in truth, is a Calmuc beauty ; her flat pancake of a face destitute of feature, of projection or dimple, and not even tattooed with lines and cross lines of hedges, walls, and ditches. This wide, unhedged expanse of corn land on either hand, with out divisions, or enclosures, or pasture fields, or old trees, single or in groups, is supremely tiresome. The traveller at once admits that France has a natural claim to the word which all other countries have borrowed from her — ennui. The green network of hedges spread over the face of England, that peculiar charm of English land, must have been formed at some very peculiar period in the history of the English people. It must have been the work of a nation of small proprietors long employed upon it. We view it as an embellishment only, and frequently as an incumbrance, rather than a convenience in hus- bandry ; but it is a memorial of an extinct social condition different from the present, which has prevailed in some former and distant age in England. This subdivision of the land into small portions by permanent hedges and mounds of earth, is almost pecuhar to England. In Scotland, in France, in Germany, in all European countries in which the feudal system gave the original law and tenure of land, no small properties fenced all round from each other have existed of old, unless, it may be, in a few small locali- ties. In Etigland, the history of society and property is written upon the face of the country. This immense work, unexampled NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, 63 in extent in any other country, must liave been executed in the six hundred years between the final departure of the Romans and the Norman conquest. The open, unenclosed surface of those districts of France which belonged to the earUer kings of our Norman line, shows that in the state of the possession of landed property in those provinces in their time, no subdivisions by numerous small permanent enclosures had ever been required or formed. The small enclosures in England must have been made in a different state of society, before the Norman conquest, yet probably after the Romans left the country. No country occupied by the Romans shows any such traces of subdivision among a small proprietary. The Roman occupation of Britain was altogether military ; and such a body of small proprietary would have been adverse in a civil view, and their separate strong enclosures upon the face of the country obstructive, in a military view, to the Roman power. The Saxons and Danes — one people in the principles of their laws, institutions, and languages, although in different states of civilization — must have woven this immense veil over the face of the land during the six centuries they pos- sessed England under a social arrangement altogether different from the present ; one in which their law of partition of property among all the children, excluding the feudal principle of primo- geniture, would produce this subdivision of the land into small distinct fields. France is now, by the abolition of the feudal tenure of land, and of the law of primogeniture, recommencing a state of society which was extinguished in England by the Norman conquest and the laws of succession adopted from that period. France is in the midst of a great social experiment. Its results upon civilization can only be guessed at now, and will only be distinctly seen, perhaps, after the lapse of ages. The opinions of all our political economists are adverse to it. Listen to the groans of the most acute observers of our days, on the appalling consequences of this division of landed property. Says Arthur Young, in 1789, (con- sequently before the sale of the national domains, crown and church estates, and confiscated estates of the noblesse, and before the law of partition of property among all the children became obligatory on all classes of the community,) " Small properties, much divided, prove the greatest source of misery that can possibly be conceived, and has operated to such a degree and extent in France, that a law ought certainly to be made to render all divi- 64 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. sion below a certain number of arpens illegal." Arthur Young wrote this just about fifty years ago, and a few months only before a law was passed directly opposed to the principle he recommends — the law aboUshing the rights of primogeniture, and making the division of property among all the children obligatory; and which law has been ever since, that is, for nearly half a century, in gene- ral and uninterrupted operation. Listen, again, to Mr. Birbeck, a traveller of no ordinary sagacity. " Poor," says he, of the French people under this law, " from generation to generation, and growing continually poorer as they increase in numbers — in the country, by the incessant division and subdivision of property; in the towns, by the division and subdivision of trades and profes- sions — such a people, instead of proceeding from the necessaries to the comforts of life, and then to the luxuries, as is the condition of things in England, are rather retrograde than progressive. There is no advancement in French society, no improvement, no hope of it." Hear, too, the chirp of Mr. Peter Paul Cobbett in his Ride through France. " Here, in Normandy, great lamentation on account of this revolutionary law. They tell me it has dis- persed thousands upon thousands of farnihes who had been upon the same spot for centuries." Listen, too, to the thunders of the Edinburgh Review. " In no country of Europe is there such a vast body of proprietors (one half of the population of France is stated in the preceding paragraph to be proprietors), and in no civilized European country, with the exception of Ireland, is there so large a proportion of the population (stated to be two-thirds) engaged directly in the cultivation, or rather, we should say, in the torture of the soil. And yet the system is but in its infancy. Should it be supported for another half century, la grandt nation will certainly be the greatest pauper warren in Europe, and will, along with Ireland, have the honour of furnishing hewers of wood and drawers of water for all other countries in the world." Alas, for human wisdom ! Alas, for the predictions of Arthur Young, Mr. Birbeck, and the Edinburgh Review ! But who can be a prophet at home? Not that their prophecies were undervalued at home ; but their home-made prophecies were of no value — were framed upon narrow, local views and prejudices. When new social arrangements, diametrically opposed in principle and spirit to the feudal, grew up, and unfolded themselves, first in America and afterwards in France, and gradually spread from thence over great part of the present Prussia, the feudalized minds NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 65 of our Scotch political economists were lavish in their predictions of the degradation, misery, and barbarism which must inevitably ensue among that portion of the human race who were so un fortunate as to adopt the dictates of nature and reason in their legislation on property and social rank, instead of adhering to conventional and barbarous laws and institutions derived from the darkest period of the middle ages. If natural affection, humanity, reason, religion — if all that dis- tinguishes man from the brute creation— speak more clearly in the human breast on the obhgation of one duty than of another, it is on that of the parent providing equally according to his means for all the beings he has brought into existence and added to society ; leaving none of them to want and distress if he can help it, or to chance for a precarious subsistence, or to be sup- ported by his neighbours out of their alms, as paupers, or out of their taxes, as useless functionaries, or by uncertain dependence upon employment, and bread from others. Is not this a moral and religious duty? Is it not the clearest duty of the parent, not only to the offspring he has brought into existence, but to the social body of which he and they are members ? Can any argu- ment of expediency drawn from our artificial state of society under the feudal system and feudal law of succession to property, and of the advantage of that system, turn away the natural sen- timents of men from this great moral duty to their own offspring? from this great moral duty to the rest of society? Yet listen to the morality and political economy taught lately in no obscure corner, and to no uninfluential pupils, but from the Divinity chair of the University of Edinburgh to the young men who were to go forth, and are now, the religious and moral instructors of the people in the established church of Scotland. " VVe know," says Dr. Chalmers in his Political Economy in Connection ivit/i the Moral State and Moral Prospects of Society ; being the sub- stance of a Course of Lectures delivered to the Students of the Theological Hall in Edinburgh, — "We know," says this dis- tinguished philosopher, " that there is a mighty force of sentiment and natural affection arrayed against the law of primogeniture. But here is the way in which we would appease these feelings, and make compensation for the violence done to them. We would make no inroad on the integrity of estates, or, for the sake of a second brother, take ofl"to the extent of a thousand a year 66 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. from that domain of ten thousand a year which devolved by- succession on the eldest son of the family. We should think it vastly better, if, by means of a liberal provision in all the branches of the public service, a place of a thousand a year lay open to the younger son, whether in the law, or in the church, or in colleges, or in any other well-appointed establishment kept up for the good and interest of the nation." Will the teachers, or the taught, of this new school of morality and political economy in the Theological Hall of Edinburgh ex- plain the moral principle on which they recommend the getting rid of " a mighty force of sentiment and natural affection," and '• the appeasing those feelings, and making compensation for the violence done to them," by places of a thousand a year, or by any other pecuniary compensation in the public service ? The '• mighty force of sentiment and natural affection," the " feelings to be appeased and compensated for the violence done them" by places in the church, or the law, or in colleges, or some other well-appointed establishment, are nothing less sacred, or of less moral value than the paternal affection and the moral sentiment of justice to others, urging on the feelings of the parent to pro- vide equally for each of his children to the utmost of his means ; and dictating to him, as a man, the moral duty to his fellow-men of not imposing upon them the burden of maintaining his progeny, either as paupers, or as superfluous public functionaries, if he has property to maintain them himself. Will the teachers or the taught of this new school of moral and political philosophy in the University of Edinburgh explain the moral, religious, or philoso- phical principle of this " appeasing and compensating" for the sacrifice of natural affection, moral feeling, and sentiment of duty, by places in the church, or the law, or in any other well-ap- pointed establishments? Tliey are not in the position of ordi- nary men speaking or writing speculatively on morals, and re- sponsible only as idle uninfluential philosophers, or political writers, for the errors of their speculations. The men who are the professional teachers of the people in morals and religion are bound to hold none but the clearest and purest doctrines — to teach, and to be taught, nothing obscure or doubtful in political, moral, or religious science. The feudal system, with its corner- stone, the law of primogeniture, may be a very good or very expedient system; but it is admitted by themselves to be an arti- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, 67 ficial arrangement of society and property, not established and uplreld in the human mind by nature or religion, but, on the con- trary, one against which " there is a mighty force of sentiment and natural affection arrayed." Will they explain the moral principle of their doctrine, that the most virtuous feelings in our nature— the mighty force of natural affection for our children, and the mighty force of the sentiment of justice to our fellow- men — should be sacrificed to support an artificial system or ar- rangement of society, be that system or arrangement ever so expedient or beneficial ? Will they explain the moral principle upon which they recommend " the appeasing those natural feel- ings of affection and moral duty, and the compensating for the violence done to them," by anappointment of a tliousand a year, or by any other pecuniary compensation ? Will they explain the moral difference between the conduct of the owner of a domain of ten thousand a year who leaves it all to his eldest son, and leaves his youngest son to be provided for by his neighbours out of their taxes, in some appointment of a thousand a year in the church, or the law, or in any other public establishment — which is the case propounded and recommended by them — and the conduct of the wretched female who exposes her new-born babe on her neighbour's door-step to be provided for out of his means ? The moral guilt of the latter, driven by want and misery to abandon the infant she is unable to maintain, appears to all men, whose moral sense has not been cultivated at the Theological Hall of the University of Edinburgh, infinitely less than that of the man of ten thousand a year who abandons his younger children to the support of the public, in order to leave all his estate to the eldest son. Will they explain the moral grounds of their teaching that the abandonment of his parental and social duties to his offspring, and to his fellow-men, is a laudable act in the case of the rich domain owner, and the same abandonment an immoral and criminal act in the case of the wretched strum- pet ? Xhey are the teachers of the people of Scotland, whose principles of moral and political philosophy, as laid down in their own text-book, are here arraigned, and they ought to satisfy every do^ibt that is suggested to the public mind, either of the moral purity or of the philosophical correctness of their specula- tions. Will they explain the principle and justice of their politi- cal economy on this subject, and also its working and ellccis in 68 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. society ? If the owner of a domain of ten thousand a year is morally, and for the general benefit of society, entitled to a pro- vision of a thousand a year for his younger son from the rest of the community — for they, the rest, pay with their taxes the ap- pointments in the law, the church, and all other branches of public service, which it is proposed and recommended to establish for the benefit of the younger sons of those rich paupers, and as a compensation to the latter for having stifled their natural affec- tions as parents, and their sense of duty to their fellow-men — that younger son must be equally entitled to a provision for his younger son ; for he too has natural affection and a moral sense to stifle and to be compensated for. How long, to what extent, and with what effect on the well-being of society, is this clerical system of political economy to work, by which the property of all is to be devoted to the subsistence, in highly paid offices, of a part of the community ? Will they also explain if all those younger sons of domain owners, thus to be provided for ad in- finitum at the public expense, in order to enable and encourage wealthy parents to stifle the feelings of natural affection and so- cial duty, and leave undiminished their domains of ten thousand a year to their eldest sons, are all to be born with the necessary qualifications for those liberal appointments in the church, or in the law, or in the public service, which it is proposed to establish for their subsistence ? Are they, for instance, to be born clergy- men of the church of Scotland, with all the talents and acquire- ments needful, or are they only to bring into the world with them all the learning and divinity necessary, but are t-o acquire their principles of moral philosophy and political economy at the Theological Hall at the University of Edinburgh ? It is the duty of every inquirer into political and social economy to raise his voice against such attempts to educate a people into the support of any social or political system founded on mere expediency, not upon moral principle; and which is not the only social arrangement among civilized men, nor proved by reasoning or experience to be incontrovertibly the best for the general well- being of a community. This is perverting education to the most despicable end — the support of a political system. Other social arrangements than the feudal do exist in civilized countries. Re- ligion, morality, and social well-being flourish in those countries, as well as in those feudally constituted. To enlist the passions NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 69 or prejudices of mankind by education into a partisanship for one or tlie other constitution of society, to inculcate the sacrifice of moral duty, of natural sentiment, of the highest affections and feelings of human beings, for the support of one or the other social arrangement on account of its real or supposed expediency, is unsound doctrine. Are these but idle speculations, which, sound or unsound, are confined within the walls of the closet or the class-room, and have no influence upon the movement of the real affairs of the world ? They make a wrong estimate of the mfluence of speculative doctrine in society, who think so. The bias given in the education of the public mind, to consider the support of a caste, or class, or conventional arrangement in so- ciety, as an object to which natural sentiment and moral duty ought to be sacrificed, may be traced in the support given at this day to the claim of a state-established church to a power inde- pendent of the state. To set aside the first of the moral duties of man as a member of society — the support of that power esta- blished by the social body for its government — and to erect a church-power independent of that government, with a caste, class, or body of men not subject to its laws, is a natural sequence from this unsound doctrine in political and moral philosophy taught in the University of Edinburgh. The condition of Ireland, divided and subdivided among a small tenantry whose savings, be it remembered, by wretched diet, lodging, and raiment, and the privation of every comfort of civilized life, is a saving which goes, in the shape of high rent, into the pockets of another class, the land-owners, not into their own pockets as the gains of their frugality to be added to their property, or means of expenditure, was, and still is, the grand bugbear of our Scotch political economists, and still furnishes the main argument against the distribution of landed property through the social body by the natural and moral law of succes- sion. They did not, and do not at present consider the somewhat important difference of people being the owners or not the owners of the land divided. The belly is too faithful a counsellor to the head, to allow a man to sit down to live upon a piece of land of his own, if it be not large enough to support him in the way he hag'been accustomed to live. lie turns his property into another shape — into money — and makes a living out of it as a tradesman. Between the condition of such a land-owner and an Irish cottar- 70 NOTES 0F A TRAVELLER. tenant there is the important difference, that the former has a capital which he may keep in land, or invest in leather or sugar: he may be a peasant or a shoemaker, or a grocer, according to his judgment; and if he lives merely upon potatoes and water, what he spares is increasing his capital and means of gratification in some other shape. The Irish cottar-tenant has no property to begin with in the land or in anything else. He is, and his whole class, in consequence of the working of the law of primogeniture in society, pauper ab initio ; and all that is spared by his inferior condition, in respect of the comforts and necessaries of life, goes into his landlord's pocket, in the shape of rent, not into his own as the savings of his own prudence and frugality. He is also placed in a false position by the land-holders of Ireland, even as compared to the cottar-tenantry, which existed formerly all over Scotland, and still continue in the northern counties. The latter were generally charged a rent in kind, that is, in a proportion of the crops produced, or with a reference to the average crops of the land. The peasant could understand the simple data before him, knew at once whether the land could produce enough to feed his family and leave a surplus such as was demanded for rent, and, if not, he sought a living in some other employment. His stand- ard of living was not deteriorated by his rent in kind, because he had a clearly seen surplus of the best as well as of the worst of the products of his farm for family consumption, after paying the portion of these products that were his rent. The Irish small tenantry, on the contrary, have to pay for their land in money. It would be just as reasonable to make them pay for their land in French wines for the squire, or Parisian dresses for the lady. Their land produces neither gold, nor silver, nor Irish bank notes. It is not reasonable to make the peasant, the ignorant man, pay in those commodities — they are but commodities, like wines and silks — and to make men, simple, inexperienced in trade, and a prey to market-jobbers, to run the double mercantile risk of sell- ing their own commodities, and buying those in which their land- lords choose to be paid their rents. The great capitalist-farmer may choose to add the trade of the corn-merchant to that of the agriculturist, and to take the mercantile as well as the agricul- tural risks and profits upon himself; but even the shrewdest of this class, the great farmers of the south of Scotland, are dropping, as fast as they can, this mercantile branch of farming-business, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 71 and coming back to the natural principle of flirming, that of pay- ing for their land a proportion of what the land produces, so many bolls of grain per acre — throwing upon the laird the risk wliich, in reason and common sense, ought to devolve upon him, that of turning his share of the produce raised by the farmer's labour, skill, and capital, out of his acres, into gold or bank bills. Money rent deteriorates the condition of a small tenant in two ways. The more honestly he is inclined, the more poorly and meanly he must live. He must sell all his best produce, his grain, his butter, his flax, his pig, and subsist upon the meanest of food, his worst potatoes and water, to make sure of money for his rent. It thus deteriorates his standard of living. He is also tempted by money-rent out of the path of certainty into that of chance. It thus deteriorates his moral condition. Ask him six barrels of oats, or barley, or six stones of butter, or flax, for a piece of land which never produced four, and his common sense and expe- rience guide him. He sees, and comprehends the simple data before him, knows from his experience that such a crop cannot be raised, such a rent cannot be afforded, and he is off" to England or America to seek a living. But ask him six guineas per acre, for a piece of land proportionably as much over-rented as the other, and he trusts to chance, to accident, to high market prices, to odd jobs of work turning up, to summer or harvest labour out of the country — in short, he does not know to what ; for he is placed in a false position, made to depend upon chance of markets, and on mercantile success and profits, as much as upon industry and skill in working his little farm. In all those respects the condition of the small tenant and that of the small proprietor are so totally different, that our political economists reason upon false data, when they conclude that a country divided among small proprietors must necessarily present or fall into the same evils in the social condition of the people, as a country occupied by a small over-rented tenantry. They set out, also, in their speculations, with a false axiom. They admit that a certainty of subsistence — food, fuel, clothing, and lodging, being all comprehended under this term subsistence — is the first and greatest good in the physical condition of nn individual or of a society ; and they assume it as an axiom, that those parts of a social body, those individuals or classes, who are employed in producing articles of general use or desire among 72 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. men — to put the case in the strongest hght, say blacksmiths, tailors, shoemakers, and such classes as produce articles which every individual in the community requires and u^es — are as near to this first and greatest good of a certain subsistence by their work, as those immediately employed in its production by husbandry. Now this may be true, where husbandry is a manu- facture, as with us in Britain, for producing by hired labourers the greatest quantity possible of grain, meat, and other products out of the soil, to be exchanged against the products of other branches of industry. It may be true that the hired labourers of the manu- facturer of corn from land are no nearer to a certainty of sub- sistence than the hired labourer of the manufacturer of cloth or leather. But it is not true, where husbandry is followed, as in France, and in the countries divided among a small proprietary, for the sake of subsisting the husbandman himself, the actual labourer on the land, as its first object; and where the exchanging its products for other articles, even of general use and necessity, is but a secondary object. A man will not give up his needful food, fuel, clothing, or lodging, to gratify even his real and most pressing wants of iron-work, leather-work, or cloth-work. His surplus only will be applied to acquiring those secondary neces- saries of life ; and those who live by making them are, conse- quently, far from being so near to that first good in social con- dition, a certain subsistence, as he is. But if two-thirds of the population of a country be in the situation of this individual, who has his certain subsistence out of his own land by his own labour, and depends upon no man's surplus for his own needful food, fuel clothing, and lodging, I take that to be a good state of society, a better arrangement of the social structure than where needful subsistence is not certain to the great majority of its numbers. It carries, moreover, within itself, a check upon over-population and the consequent deterioration of the social condition, and which is totally wanting in the other social system. In even the most useful and necessary arts and manufactures, the demand for la- bourers is not a seen, known, steady, and appreciable demand ; but it is so in husbandry under this social construction. The labour to be done, the subsistence that labour will produce out of his portion of land, are seen and known elements in a man's cal- culation upon his means of subsistence. Can his square of land, or can it not, subsist a family ? Can he marry, or not ? are ques- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. - 73 tions which every man can answer without delay, doubt, or speculation. It is the depending on chance, where judgment has nothing clearly set before it, that causes reckless, improvident marriages in the lower, as in the higher classes, and produces among us the evils of over-population ; and chance necessarily enters into every man's calculations, when certainty is removed altogether ; as it is, where certain subsistence is, by our distribu- tion of property, the lot of but a small portion, instead of about two-thirds of the people. Another axiom taken up as granted, and as quite undeniable, by our agriculturists and political economists, is that small farms are incompatible with a high or perfect state of cultivation in a country. In the same breath they recommend a garden-like cul- tivation of the land. Pray what is a garden but a small farm ? and what do they recommend, but that a large farm should be, as nearly as possible, brought into the state of cultivation and produc- tiveness of a garden or small farm? This can only be done, they tell us, by the application of large capitals, such as small farmers cannot command, to agriculture : let us reduce these grand words to their proper value. Capital signifies the means of purchasing labour; the application of capital to agriculture means the appli- cation of labour to land. A man's own labour, as far as it goes, is as good as any he can buy, nay, a great deal better, because it is attended by a perpetual overseer— his self-interest, watching that it is not wasted or misapplied. If this labour be applied to a suitable, not too large nor too small, area of soil, it is capital applied to land, and the best kind of capital, and applied in the best way to a garden-like cultivation. A garden is better dug, and manured, and weeded, and drained, and is proportionably far more productive than a large flirm', because more toil and labour, that is, more capital is bestowed upon it, in proportion to its area. A small farm held, not by the temporary right of a tenant, and under the burden of a heavy rent, but by the owner of the soil, and cultivated by the labour of his family, is precisely the prin- ciple of gardening, applied to farming ; and in the countries in which land has long been occupied and cultivated in small farms by the owners— in Tuscany, Switzerland, and Flanders— the garden-like cultivation and productiveness of the soil are cried up by those very agriculturists and political economists, who cry down the means, the only means, by which it can be attained 74 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, universally in a country— the division of the land into small, garden-like estates farmed by the proprietors. It is possible that the family of the small proprietor-farmer consume almost all that they produce, and have very little surplus to send to market; but that merely affects the proportions of the population engaged in producing food, and in producing objects to be exchanged for food. The produce supports the same number of human beings — every potato finds a mouth — whether the whole of it belongs to one man, who sells it for the labour and productions of the rest of the number, or belongs in small portions to the whole. The traveher who considers the prices, supplies, and varieties of agricultural food in the market towns in Flanders, France, Swit- zerland, and the liberal use, or more correctly, the abundance and waste in the cooking and housekeeping of all classes in those countries, will scarcely admit, even, that in proportion to the number of the whole community not engaged in husbandry, a smaller surplus for their consumpt is sent to market by the small farmers. It cannot be denied that a minute division of the land into small, free, garden-like properties, seems, a priori, more favourable to a garden-like cultivation of a country than its divi- sion into vast baronial estates, and the subdivision of these into extensive farms, on which the actual husbandmen, as a class, are but hired labourers, having no interest in the productions of the soil, and no object in their work but to get the day over. How stand the statistical facts that bear upon this important question ? It is stated by Dupin, that the amount of arable land at present in France is but little more than it was in 17S9, but that the population is increased by about eight millions; and in con- sequence of the division of property by the law of succession, that one-half of the whole population are proprietors, and counting their families, two-thirds of the whole are engaged in the direct cuUivation of the soil. It will not be said by the most strenuous advocate of those feudal arrangements of society which the French revolution annihilated in France, that the French peopie now are worse fed, worse clothed, worse lodged, or less generally provided ■with the necessaries, comforts, and luxuries of life, than they were before 17S9, before the revolution, when Arthur Young described the wretched condition of the people. The imports and consumpt of the tropical products in France prove how superior, beyond all comparison, is the present stale of the people. Now how is this NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 75 additional popLilation of eight millions of individuals fed from the same extent of arable land, if not by their superior cultivation of that land ? The same extent of arable land is supporting about one-third more people — for the population of France was then reckoned about 25 millions, and now about 33 millions— and in greater abundance and comfort. How is this, if the land is not in a more productive cultivation under the present division into small properties? It is evident from the statistical facts, that with- out any noticeable improvement in the modes, rotations, or uten- sils of husbandry, tlie mere subdivision of the area to which labour is applied into small-property farms cultivated in a garden- like way, and the converting the labour formerly applied to the same area, from hired labour, or perl^aps unpaid labour of serfs, into the labour of proprietors working on their own land, are sufficient to account for a more garden-like cultivation and pro- ductiveness of the same extent of arable land. Two generations of adults, or fifty years have passed away under the deteriorating efi'ects of the partition of land denounced by Arthur Young, in 17S9, as even then "the greatest source of misery that can be conceived." This greatest conceivable source of misery has not diminished the population, nor made it more miserable. This partition and repartition of land have not reduced all estates to one minimum size, like an Irish cotter's acre. Estates of all sizes and values, from 500/. to 50,000/. in price, are to be found on sale in France, as in England. The aggregation of land by deaths of co-relatives, balances the partition of land by deaths of parents. The application even of great capitals, and scientific skill to ob- jects of husbandry, has not been impeded by this partition of land. The capital, for example, laid out in France in establish- ments for making beet-root sugar, is greater, perhaps, than has been laid out in Britain during the same period on any one agri- cultural object. The thing itself, the making sugar from beet- root, as an agricultural operation in modern husbandry, may be impolitic, if such sugar can only be made under protecting duties, and if sugar can be got cheaper, and without slave labour, from the West Indies— a point not at all ascertained ; but the value of the fact for our argument remains the same. A beet-root sugar work requires science, skill, expensive machinery, and very con- siderable capital. Hydraulic presses of the best construction to express the juice, and steam engines to pump it up, arc not 76 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. rare in beet-root sugar works. I have visited one in the Pas de Calais, in which the presses and engines had been made in Lon- don for the work, at a time when we scarcely knew that such an agricultural object existed and was, carried on so near us. At present, that is in 1841, France has 389 beet-root sugar works in activity, although no longer favoured or protected by any unequal duty on colonial sugar; and from January, 1840, to the end of May, 1841, these have delivered to the consumpt of the country 26,174,547 kilogrammes, or 5,234,909^ cwt., which have paid in duty to the revenue 3,205,783 francs. The total consumpt of France, yearly, appears to be about 16,518,840 cwt. of sugar. It may, perhaps, be a question whether in all England south of Trent, there can be found so many threshing machines of the best and most expensive construction — such as cost from 800/. to 1200/,, in the best agricultural districts of Northumberland, Rox- burghshire, and the Lothians — as France, under her partition law of succession, can produce of these complicated, and far more ex- pensive establishments. The social effects of the partition of property upon the condi- tion of the people, as well as the economical effects on their agri- culture, are very wide of those preconceived and predicted. What has been the march of society under this law since 1816, when France first began to enjoy it in a settled state of peace ? In the first seven or eight years after 1816, all society had still a martial air and habit. The soldier was everything and everywhere; Boys would strut about, and have you believe that they had seen fire at Montmartre, or, at the least, had been with the army of the Loire. For the first tly-ee or four years, France was one great camp of disbanded soldiers swaggering, and idling about, in town and country. The small proprietors had not confidence in the security of their portions of confiscated domains of the church, or of the emigrant noblesse, and had not the means or courage to improve them. The predictions of our political econo- mists seemed hastening to fulfillment. But in the next period of six or eight years, a change came over the spirit of the land. The military mania abated. On se lasse de tout, especially in France. The soldier was in the back ground. The vietix militaire was voted a tiresome, old, stupid bore. Idlers of the middle and lower classes were evidently diminishing in numbers and importance. The young men you met with in the diligence, or at the table- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 77 d'hote, were no longer billiard-table loungers and half-pay officers, but sons of proprietors from the south, selling their wines in the northern departments, or of merchants and manufacturers from the north, extending their business in the south. Industry was evidently on the move. Houses were in building in every village. The small land-owners had acquired means and confidence, and were beginning to lodge themselves on tlieir little estates. Prices, profits, speculations, undertakings, establishments in business, en- grossed all conversation among all classes. Now, in the last period of seven or eight years, the French are passing from a military to an industrious people, as rapidly as such a change in the spirit of so vast a mass of population so lately military, can be expected. This change in the spirit of a nation cannot be rapid, because there is at first an under supply of commercial and manufacturing means, and objects, to employ the activity and restlessness of mind reared in military habits ; and the government, unfortunately, agitates for military pre-eminence in Europe, in- stead of favouring the advance of peaceful habits in the popula- tion; but the change evidently is in progress, is advancing, is far advanced, and all France is undoubtedly alive with an industry, and a commercial and manufacturing spirit, unknown at any former period of her history. The condition of the French people as to food, clothing, and the comforts of life, compared to their condition before 1789, is un- doubtedly better. What is the condition of their labouring class at present, compared to that of our own ? The only means of com- parison is to take one class of men, \those condition is in all countries the same relatively to that of the common labourer, the military — and to compare the condition of the common labourer in each country, with that of the common soldier. Now in England, since 181G, no bounty, or very trifling bounty, is required to obtain recruits for the army : and none but men of the best description as to age, health, and stature, are received. The inference to be made is, that the condition of our common soldier is so much better than, or so equal to the condition of our common labourer, that little or no inducement of bounty is required to make able-bodied men enlist in sufficient numbers. But the condition of our soldier has not been altered for the better since the peace, since 1S16. It is the condition of our labouring class that h\is altered for the worse. In England, as in France, the soldier is fed, paid, lodged, 78 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and clothed, precisely as he was five-and-tvventy years ago. But in France, aUhough the term of service is only for six years, so far are the labouring class from such a condition as to enlist with- out the inducement of bounty, that from 1800 to 2000 francs, or 80/. sterling, is usually offered for a recruit, to serve as a substitute for one who is drawn by ballot for the army. Clubs and assur- ance companies are established all over France, for providing substitutes for the members who may happen to be drawn for service. The inference to be made is, that here the condition of the common labourer is too good to be exchanged for that of the common soldier without the inducement of a premium ; his labour too valuable to be given for the mere living and pay of the soldier, although the soldier's pay and living are as good, in proportion to the habits of the people and price of provisions, as in England. How ludicrous, as one sits on the deck of a fine steam-vessel going down the Saone, or the Rhone, or the Seine, passing e very- half hour. other steam-vessels, and every five or six miles under iron suspension bridges, and past canals, short factory railroads even, and new-built factories — how laughable, now, to read the 'lugubrious predictions of Arthur Young half a century ago, of Eirbeck a quarter of a century ago, of the Edinburgh Review some twenty years ago, about the inevitable consequences of the French law of succession. " A pauper warren !" Look up from the page and laugh. Look around upon the actual prosperity, and well-being, and the rising industry of this people under their system. Look at the activity on their rivers, at the new factory chimneys against the horizon, at the steam-boats, canals, roads, coal works, wherever nature gives any opening to enterprise. France owes her present prosperity, and rising industry, to this very system of subdivision of property, which allows no man to live in idleness, and no capital to be expended without a view to its reproduction, and places that great instrument of industry and well-being, property, in the hands of all classes. The same area of arable land, according to Dupin, feeds now a population greater by eight millions, and certainly in greater abundance and comfort, than under the former system of succession ; because now its pro- duce is applied to feeding reproductive labourers, who, either in husbandry on their own little estates, or in manufactures, or trade, are producing, while they are consuming, what brings back either consumable produce, or the value of what they consume, in due NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 79 time. But the produce applied to the feedhig of soldiery, of la- bourers employed by a splendid court in works of mere ostenta- tion and grandeur, in building palaces, or constructing magnificent public works of no utility equivalent to the labour expended, and to a certain extent, even in the fine arts, and, above all, in support- ing a numerous idle aristocracy, gentry, and clergy, with their dependent followers, was a waste of means, a consumpt without any corresponding return of consumable or saleable produce from the labour or industry of the consumers. In this view, the com- parison between the old feudal construction of society in France, and the new under the present law of succession, resolves itself into this result, — that one-third more people are supported under the new, in greater abundance and comfort, from the same extent of arable land, in consequence of the law of succession having swept off the non-productive classes, forced them into active industry, and obliged all consumers, generally speaking, to be producers also, while they consume. In this view, the cost of supporting the old court, aristocracy, gentry, clergy, and all the system and arrangements of society in Frsfnce, under the ancient regime, has been equivalent to the cost of supporting one-third more inhabit- ants in France, and in greater comfort and well-being ; and this is the gain France has realized by her revolution, and by the abo- lition of the law of primogeniture, its most important measure. Let us do justice to the French character. Their self-command, their upon-honour principle, is very remarkable, and much more generally diffused than among our own population. They are, I believe, a more honest people than the British. The beggar who is evidently hungry, respects the fruit upon the road-side' within ills reach, although there is nobody to protect it. Property is much respected in France; and in bringing up children, this fidelity towards the property of others seems much more carefully incul- cated by parents in the lowest class, in the home education of their children, than with us. This respect for the property is closely connected with that respect for the feelings of our neigh- bours, which constitutes what is called good manners. This is carefully inculcated in children of all ranks in France. They are taught to do what is pleasing and agreeable to others. We arc too apt to undervalue this spirit, as tending merely to superficial accomplishments, to empty compliment in words, and unmeaning appearance in acts. But, in reality, this reference to the feelings 80 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of Others in all we do is a moral habit of great value where it is generally diffused, and enters into the home training of every family. It is an education both of the parent and child in morals, carried on through the medium of external manners. Our lower and middle classes are deficient in this kind of family education ; and there is some danger that the parents in those classes may come to rely too much with us, for all education, upon the parish and Sunday schools. It is but reading, writing, reckoning, and the catechism, after all, that can be taught a people by the most perfect system of national school education; and 'those acquire- ments would be dearly bought if they interfere with or supersede family instruction, and parental example, and admonition in the right and wrong in conduct, morals, and manners. It is a fine distinction of the French national character, and social economy, that practical morality is more generally taught through manners, among and by the people themselves, than in any country in Europe. One or two striking instances of this general respect for property have occurred to me in travelling in France.. I once forgot my umbrella in a diligence •going to Bourdeaux, in which I travelled as far as Tours. My umbrella went on to Bourdeaux and returned to Tours in the corner of the coach, without being appropriated by any of the numerous passengers, or work people, who must have passed through it on so long a journey, and have had this stray unowned article before them. I once travelled from Paris to Boulogne with a gentleman who had come up the same road a few days before. We were conversing on this very subject, the honesty of the people in general, and he recollected having left on the table of one of the inns half a basket of grapes, worth about twelve sous, which, he said, he was sure he would find safe. On arriving, he asked the waiter if he had seen the grapes, and they were instantly produced, as a matter of course, out of a press in which they had been carefully put away as property not belonging to the house. It is the great diffusion and exposure of property in small things, among a nation of small proprietors, that produce this regard for its safety even in trifles, this practical morality. It is not the value lost, but the injury to the feeling of ownership, which constitutes the criminality or rather the injury, in many petty aggressions on property; and respect for the feelings of others enters into the manners and morals of the French. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 81 Society left to itself will, probably, always work itself up to its moral wants. The moral condition of France, from 1794 to 1816, had certainly no aid from the clerical, educational, civil, or military establishments of its government, or from the wars and tumults in which the country was engaged ; yet countries blessed, during all that period, with the fullest, most powerful, and best endowed church establishments, as part of their government, may envy the moral condition of the great mass of the French people. The social economist, who looks at France and at the United States of America, will pause before he admits in its fullest extent the usual clerical assumption, that a powerful church establislniient, and an union of church and state, are essential to the morality, piety, or education of a people. He will be apt to conclude, that society left to itself will provide according to its wants, and to its recipient capabilities, for education, morals, and religion — that these must grow naturally out of social circumstances, and cannot be forced by establishments, clerical or educational, into any whole- some existence — and that a people will no more fall into barbarism, or retrograde in civilization, from the want of establishments suita- ble to their social condition, than a family will turn cannibals from wanting a butcher's shop or a cook. It is nearly half a century since the decimal division of money, weights, and measures, was adopted by the French Convention, and by every succeeding government it has been adhered to, and enforced by law. The learned in all other countries, as well as in France, are unanimous in recommending its adoption, on ac- count of the greater practical facility in op'erations and accounts, of the decimal than the duodecimal division of weights, measures, and money ; yet, in spite of law and science, the French people continue to use the duodecimal division. They persist in thinking duodecimally, even when by law they must express themselves decimally. Is this obstinate adherence to the least perfect and most diflicult mode of reckoning quantity, or value in the ordi- nary afikirs of life, the effect of mere prejudice, of blind custom, of the perversity, in short, of the public mind ? I suspect the cause lies deeper. Prejudice, custom, or perversity, will not make people forego a clear advantage. Men of science, and legislators, in recommending and adopting the decimal division, have con- sidered only the arithmetical operations to be performed with numerals ; but not the nature of the subjects to which those 82 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. operations with numerals are applied. Weights, measures of capacity or of extension, and money, are measures applied to the products of nature, or of human industry, and to their value in exchange with other products through the medium of money. Now the value of the products either of nature, or of art, is the time and labour involved in them. The value of the most valu- able of natural products, the diamond, has the same base as the value of a pin, — it is the value of scarcity ; that is to say, of the time and labour it will cost to find such another diamond, or to make such another pin. The value of those two elements — time and labour — is what we buy, and sell, and record in our ac- counts, and to which all measurement of quantity with a reference to value, and all reckoning in the ordinary transactions of life, refer.* One of these two elements— time — regulates, in a conside- rable degree, the value of the other — labour— and is the usual measure of it. It is the time employed by which we measure the work done, and estimate its value in ordinary affairs. But time is divided by nature duodecimaliy, not decimally. The four seasons, the twelve months, of a year, the four weeks in a month, the twenty -four hours in a day, the twelve working hours, the hours of light and darkness, the six working days in a week, are partly natural divisions of time connected with changes in our planetary position, and partly conventional, such as the number of working hours in a day, or of working days in a week, but derived from the natural divisions, and all are duodecimaliy divided. Labour being estimated by time, and time divided duodecimaliy, the products of time and labour— that is to say, all that men buy, sell, use, or estimate in reckoning — a-re necessarily and properly measured by weights, measures, or money, also duodecimallydivided ; so that parts of the one correspond to parts of the other. To measure or pay in decimals what is delivered in duodecimals, is not an easy or natural process ; although, apart from all consideration of what numerals are apphed to, and in more abstract operations with them, the decimal system is i!n- questionably the most easy and perfect to reckon by. To pay one hour's work, or two hours' work, of a day divided into twelve working hours, out of money divided duodecimaliy, is an easy process — or to measure the product of time and work by measures of quantity also duodecimaliy divided ; but to measure the same by decimal weights or measures, or pay for the work in decimally NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. S3 divided money, is not a simple operation. It is time, in reality, which is the element bought and sold between man and man, if we resolve the value of productions to its base ; and unless time is divided decimally, which natural arrangement renders imprac- ticable, the decimal division cannot be generally adopted in ordi- nary affairs. It would be a retrograde step to measure all pro- duction in which time is the main element of value, by one scale, and to measure time itself by another. It may be arithmetically right, looking only to the abstract operations with the numerals, to adopt the decimal division ; but it would be philosophically \\^rong, looking at the nature of the things to which the numerals are to be applied. A great proportion of the food of mankind, also, is divided by nature duodecimally. The beasts of the field and birds of the air happen to have generally four, not five limbs; and the butcher, in spite of decimals, will divide, cut, and weigh his beef and mutton by quarters and halves, not by five-tenths or five-twentieths of the carcass. In many of the most necessary and perpetually recurring applications of weight, measure, time, labour, and money value, to natural objects duodecimally divided by nature, the decimal division is inconvenient, and therefore never will come into general use in France or anywhere else. CHAPTER III. SOCIAL ECONOMY — WHY NOT TREATED AS A DISTINCT SCIENCE.— ARISTOCRACY REPLACED BY FUNCTIONARISM IN FRANCE— IN GER- MANY. — INTERFERENCE OF GOVERNMENT WITH FREE AGENCY.— AMOUNT OF FUNCTIONARISM IN A FRENCH DEPARTMENT — INDRE ET LOIRE.— AMOUNT IN A SCOTCH COUNTY — SHIRE OF AYR.— EF- FECTS OF FUNCTIONARISM ON INDUSTRY— ON NATIONAL CHARAC- TER—ON MORALS— ON CIVIL AND POLITICAL LIBERTY.— CHANGE IN THE STATE OF PROPERTY IN PRUSSIA.— TWO ANTAGONIST PRINCI- PLES IN THE SOCIAL ECONOMY OF PRUSSIA, Social economy — the constmctioii of the social body of a country, the proportions in numbers and influence of the elements of which it is composed, the arrangements and institutions for the administration of its laws, police, and public business, civil, military, anjd ecclesiastical, and the principles on which all this social machinery should be constructed for working beneficially on the physical and moral condition of the people— is a science distinct from the sciences of government, legislation, jurisprudence, or political economy. These are but branches of social economy in its most extended meaning. It embraces all that affects social prosperity, and the* well-being, moral and physical, of the indi- viduals composing the social body of the country. Although its subjects are well defined, and its objects important, this science is rarely touched upon by philosophers. What we know of the social economy of any foreign country, we must gather from travels and statistical works. These give the materials, but not the principles ; the facts, but not the conclusions upon their causes or consequences. The political philosopher has never taken up these materials, or facts, and deduced from them the principles on which society ought to be constructed for attaining the highest moral and physical well-being of all its members. The cause of this neglect may be that in Germany, the prolific mother of theory and speculation, it might not be very safe to write or to lecture upon this science ; for a good social economy would imply social arrangements altogether adverse, both in principle and in NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 85 operation, to the political power of the state over private free agency which is the basis of all social institutions in Germany. The mind, too, bred amidst these slavish institutions of Germany, is itself slavish. The political conceptions of the German mind, as expressed at least in writings or conversation, are, in general, either abject to the last degree, or extravagant to the last degree — the conceptions of slaves, or of slaves run mad ; both equally distant from the sober, rational speculations and conclusions of free men on the subject of their political and civil liberties. In England, no sudden overwhelming revolution in property and government, since the Norman conquest, has forced upon the country a total reconstruction of her social arrangements. The power of her legislature also to alter, amend, or enact laws, according to exigence or public opinion, and still more the nature of her jurisprudence, by which cases are decided and become landmarks in law, by the common sense of the age influencing courts and juries, and not, as in feudally constructed countries, by the rigid application of the principles of a code belonging to a different age and social condition, have removed the necessity of the English mind occupying itself with speculations upon the principles of the social arrangements of the country so generally, as upon the principles of its national wealth, of population, of pauperism, and of other branches of its political economy. The wants of society, as of the individual, are less felt, or less thought of, when the remedy is ready ; and its application is at all times in our power, and is even going on of itself in amending obvious defects in social arrangements. We are only beginning slowly, and piecemeal, to alter and improve our social arrangements for the administration and execution of law and public business, for police, for relief of destitution, for the health and education of the people ; and we advance from exigence to exigence as the occa- sion for interference arises, and not by a reference to, and a sud- den change in, any general principles or established practices. In France, new social arrangements were suddenly forced upon the country by the Revolution. The people were enthusiastic for changes in the old system ; and the new arrangements were formed suddenly, and induced suddenly over the face of the country, at a moment when military invasion or aggression, and civil disorder and anarchy, were to be apprehended and pro- vided against. The principle of military power, and of the hand 86 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of government being applied to everything, entered of necessity, at this crisis, into all the new social arrangements. Although these were sown and reared in the hot-bed of the warmest enthusiasm for liberty, equality, and the rights of man, and in the wildest moments of the Revolution, they have been found so well adapted to all the purposes of despotic government, that they have been transplanted from France into all the other Continental state§. It is not the least curious of the anomalies of modern times, that the whole internal social arrangements of La Repuhlique Francaise, for the administration of law, police, and civil and military affairs among her free citoyens, have been adopted by all the monarchi- cal and arbitrary states of Europe, as the most suitable machinery for their governments. The cause is the same. The abolition of an hereditary aristocracy in France, as an influential power in the social structure, threw each successive government, under whatever power or name, republican, con- sular, imperial, or monarchical, upon one principle for support — the influence of an extensive government patronage. It is the characteristic of the French mind to systematize, to carry out every principle to the utmost extreme of minuteness and subdi- vision. The new social arrangements for the administration of law, police, and public business, were carried at once to a minute- ness of efficiency and perfection, altogether inconsistent with the civil liberty or public spirit of a people. The extreme spirit of system, of interference in all things, of surveillance over all things, required a vast body of functionarism, a civil army of public officials among the people ; and this influence, both directly ef- fective, and indirectly, by the beneficial employments it affords, acting as bribes to the active and educated in every class, has been the basis of the social support of every government in France since the Revolution. In Germany the same cause has produced the same effect. The decline of aristocracy as an influential element in society, partly by the direct working of the Code Napoleon, and the partition or sale of the estates of the nobility, wher^ the French occupied the country, partly and chiefly by the general advance of the middle class in wealth, intelligence, independence, and influence over public opinion, has thrown all the Continental governments upon a similar support. Aristocracy is succeeded NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 87 by functionarism as a state power, as a binding influence between the people and their governments in the social structure of Europe. This mechanization of all social duties in the hands of govern- ment is a demoralizing influence incompatible with the develop- ment of industry, free agency, or public spirit. England reduced at the peace her civil army of tax-gatherers and government functionaries, as well as her military. France kept up her ma- chinery of civil establishments. The arrangements adopted at an early period of the Revolution by the Directory have continued augmenting, rather than diminishing, under each successive go- vernment, and have silently spread over all the Continent; less, perhaps, from direct imitation or approval, than from the wants of all the Continental governments, during the war and since, having been the same — men and money ; and the same arrange- ments which were seen to be effective in France for raising men and money were adopted by her neighbours. The conscription, the passport system — the division of the country into departments, circles, cantons, and communes, each with its functionaries for civil, financial, and military affairs, — and the military organiza- tion of all classes of government functionaries, and the system of government interference and surveillance in all matters, are transferred from republican France to monarchical or despotic Germany, and appear to have been equally suitable to both. It is in France this system should be studied, as in France it arose. It is a shoot from her tree of liberty, which seems to find something very congenial to its nature in despotic soils. , France is divided into eighty-six departments, containing no less than 38,061 communes, or civil parishes, in each of which there is a local government functionary. Taking the population of France in 1838 at 33,540,903 individuals, each group of 176 fami- lies, or 881 souls, has one public functionary, exclusive of police- men, tax-gatherers, &c., among them, for administration or execu- tion of governmental business. Besides the inferior local function- aries, who are expectants upon higher places and emoluments, a group of communes forms a canton, a group of cantons an arron- dissement, a group of arrondissemcnts a department ; and each of these groups has its superintending and revising colleges of func- tionaries, for the administrative, executive, and financial duties. The great social problem of this age is, to what extent should the hand of government interfere in matters which directly or in- 88 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. directly affect the public ? Should superintendence and surveil- lance be extended over all matters in which the public can by any possibility be affected ? or should all such matters be left entirely to private free agency and judgment ? government inter- position being the exception, not the rule, and exerted only in the rare cases in which private interests, acting against the public good, are unopposed by other private interests. The same ques- tion under another name is that of centralization in our social system in Britain, of the administration of law, police, and local business in which the whole community is interested, such as the charge of roads, of the poor, of education, of criminal prosecution — in the hands of the general government, and of its paid magis- trates and functionaries — or leaving them, as heretofore, in the hands, and under the management, of the people themselves. In this important question in social economy — upon the final and practical solution of which the future shape of society, and the amount of civil liberty enjoyed by the people of Europe mainly depend, the English nation stands at one end of the line, with their descendants on the American continent, and France and Prussia, with all the imitative German states, at the other. We understand, more or less, our own social economy in Great Britain, and the general principle of non-interference of govern- ment, unless in rare exceptive cases, on which it rests; but we are generally ignorant of the social economy of the Continent, of the amount of government interference and superintendence car- ried into affairs which are conducted, with us, by the private in- terests, or public spirit of individuals, and of the effects on the industry, civil liberty, and moral condition of the people, by the limitation of individual free-agency, and the intermixture of government functionarism in all the acts and duties of private life. Every traveller is struck with the numbers and military organization of the civil functionaries in the pay of government, whom he meets at every step on the Continent. It is perhaps •the first feature in the different social economy of those countries which attracts his notice ; but no traveller has given us any view of the amount, or any speculations on the social effects of this widely-spread functionarism. I shall endeavour to point out the numbers of government functionaries in a given population in France, in order to obtain an approximation, at least, to the amount of this power in their social economy. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 89 In 1830, the population of France is stated at 31,851,545 souls, which would give an average of 370,367 souls in each depart- ment. The chief towns of the 86 departments, that is, the towns in which the departmental courts and establishments are seated, contain together 2,273,939 souls, which allows on an average a population of 26,441 souls to each chief town. Now, looking for an average department, and one which could be easily compared with one of our counties, I find the department of the Indre et Loire, containing 290,160 souls, and its chief town, Tours, 23,100 souls, as near an average as any; and it has the advantage, for comparison, that at the same period, 1830, the shire of Ayr was in population as nearly equal to one-half of the population of the department of the Indre et Loire as we can expect ; viz., the popu- lation of the county of Ayr was, according to the population re- turns, 145,055 souls, and of the county town, 11,626 souls, being also, as nearly as we can expect, one-half of the population of Tours, the chief town of the Indre et Loire. I take these two groups of populations, therefore, in preference to others. Now, what number of public functionaries are employed by the French government in the civil affairs of the 290,160 people inhabiting the department of the Indre et Loire ? This department is divided into three arrondissemens — so is the shire of Ayr into three districts, Carrick, Kyle, and Cunning- ham; the three arrondissemens are further divided into 25 can- tons, and the 25 cantons into 292 communes, or civil parishes ; the sliire of Ayr, if I mistake not, reckons 46 parishes. In each of these 292 communes, are a mayor, adjunct, and municipal council. The mayor presides over the public business ; the ad- junct acts as public prosecutor before the primary or lower local courts. But as the mayor and municipal council, and perhaps the adjunct, are not, I believe, oflices paid by, although confirmed by, government, but held by candidates expectant on the higher and paid offices, I do not reckon them, amounting to 584 persons, among the functionaries living in government pay and service ; although, in as far as they are candidates for higher civil office, and depend on government for their future means of living, their influence on the social economy of the people is much the same as that of the classes of paid civil functionaries. Each of the 25 cantons has a primary local court composed of 5 paid function- aries, making in all of paid officials 125. Each of the three ar- 7 90 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. rondissemens is provided with an upper court, with 10 paid offi- cials, and that of the chief town with 20, clerks, officers, &c., included, in all 40. Thus for the administration of justice there are 165 persons who are paid functionaries, divided into 25 primary local courts, and 3 superior courts, for the civil and criminal business of a population just about double of that of the shire of Ayr. For the collection of the government taxes in the department of the Indre et Loire, the amount of functionarism is — Eeceivers of taxes - - ■ - - - - - 68 Inspectors, stamp masters, registrars ----- 37 Directors and controllers of land tax - - ' - - - 1 Measurers of land for land tax ----- 12 Receivers of indirect taxes . - - - - - 23 Receiver-general ------- i Treasurer -------- i Persons in offices connected vv^ith receipt of taxes, in all, functionaries 152 For the general government of this little imperium in imperio of a department, we have, moreover : Monsieur le Prefet - - - - - - . - 1 Sous-prefets, one to each arrondissement - - - - 3 Council of the Prefet - 3 Chiefs of bureaux -.-.--. 6 Keepers of archives ------- 2 Officers of roads, bridges and mines - - - - - 6 Officers of woods and waters ------ 6 Officers of weights and measures ----- 3 Officers of affairs of the mint ------ 3 Officers of the national lottery ------ 2 Officers of the post-office - - - - - - 26 Being 15 paid functionaries for general government, and 45 paid functionaries for different branches of public business, which government chooses to centralize in its own management. The grand total of fiuictionarism in a district of about double of the population of the county of Ayr, is: Paid functionaries connected with the administration of law - 165 Paid functionaries connected with receipt of taxes - - • 152 Paid functionaries for general government - - - 15 Paid functionaries for other government business - - 46 Paid functionaries, in all, for a population of 290,160 souls - 378 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 91 and this is exclusive of the establishment of the doiiane, or cus- tom-house, which in the frontier provinces has very numerous establishments, and even forms a regular military cordon, on duty night and day, and exclusive of the whole executive police, or gendarmerie, who patrol the roads, and have posts all over the country, and exclusive of the whole establishments for the con- script system, and its necessary accompaniment, the passport sys- tem, which give employment to an army of clerks and function- aries in the bureaux in every town, and exclusive also of the whole educational establishment of which the patronage is in the hands of government. Monsieur de Tocqueville reckons the total amount of functionarism in France, that is, of civil appoint- ments under government, at 138,000 offices, costing yearly 200 millions of francs. Taking the population of 1830 at 31,851,545 souls, this gives one paid functionary to every 230 persons. But this does not ^ive a just view of the influence and extent of the principle of functionarism in the social economy of France. The functionary is an adult male, with fixed income, and is, therefore, either a head of a family, or in a social position equivalent to the head of a family; and the figures of the population represent the infants, aged, infirm, and females, as well as the effective adult male members of the community. In a just view of the propor- tion of functionarism in the social economy of France, one family in every 46 lives by functionarism, and at the public expense ; there is one functionary family for every 46 families of the people. Now, let us reckon the amount of functionarism in the Scotch county of Ayr, containing, as nearly as possible, one half of the population of the French department of the Indre et Loire. A Scotch county is selected in preference to an English, because, in Scotland, the feudal law, and feudal arrangements of society, are similar in principle to those which prevailed on the continent before the changes in social economy produced by the French Revolution ; but to the social economy of England, in which the administration of law, the police of the country, the roads, the public business of every kind, are under the management of the people themselves, and not of the general government of the country, nothing analogous exists or ever existed on the continent, no social arrangements whatsoever similar in principle. In tiic English county of Suflblk, for instance, containing 296,317 souls, being GS57 more than the population of the French department 92 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of the Indre et Loire, excepting in the post-office department, and those of the excise, customs and stamps, no pubUc functionaries, or very few, not perhaps in all half-a-dozen, could be pointed out who live by paid offices to which they are appointed by the government. The unpaid magistracy, the unpaid constables, the unpaid sheriffs, lord-lieutenants, &c., do all the duties which the host of functionaries in France, living upon the public in the pro- portion of one family in every 46, do in this French department. Person and property are not less safe, criminal offence not more common in Suffolk, than in this French department of equal population. The moral effects, therefore, of each system on the habits and minds of the people must be compared, before judg- ment is given for or against either system : that of interference, centraUzation, and surveillance by government, as in the French system ; and that of non-interference, and leaving all to be done by the people, as well as for the people, in social business, as in the English. But to return to the shire of Ayr. For the administration of law in civil and criminal affairs there are of paid functionaries : The sheriff depute, the equivalent to the prefet as an organ of the executive government, and with his resident substitute, the procurator fiscal, and the sheriff clerk with 3 deputies, the equiva- lent of the 165 functionaries living by the administration of law in the French department ; being 7 persons in judicial functions. In the collection of taxes in this county, the amount of func- tionarism appears to be : Collector of taxes, surveyor, collector of county rates - ■■ - 3 Distributor of stamps --..... i Collector and comptroller of customs ----- 2 Excise officers, collector, clerk and supervisors - - - - 8 Postmasters living entirely on salary of office, suppose one in each town or village, in which sheriff or justice of peace courts are held - 7 21 The whole functionaries living by offices under government in the collection of taxes, do not certainly exceed from 21 to 25 persons, and this number is the equivalent for 153 functionaries in a department of only double the population. Instead of 21 persons, the Scotch county would, on the French system of func- tionarism, have 76 persons living by public employment in the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 93 financial department of its business. To cover all possible omis- sions in this list of 21 public functionaries in a Scotch county, as from the mixed nature of their means of living it would be diffi- cult to determine exactly who live entirely by public employment, and who live principally by the exercise of other trades or pro- fessions, but having some office, as postmasters, also, we shall state them at from 30 to 35 individuals ; and this number certainly does cover all persons having their livings in a Scotch county, by- public function in the administration of law, finance and civil government, which in a French department gives offices and livings to 378 paid functionaries. In the ratio of the population, 189 paid functionaries in France live upon the public, by doing the duties which, at the utmost, from 30 to 35 paid functionaries live by doing in Scotland. The effects upon the social condition of a people of the two dis- tinct principles — that of doing everything for the people by paid functionaries, and government management, in a system of per- fect centralization — and that of doing everything for the people by the people themselves, and with as little as possible of govern- ment agency — have never been satisfactorily examined by our political philosophers. We have tirades enough against the abuse of power in the hands of the unpaid magistracy of England, and examples enough of the abuse ; but we have no impartial judg- ment given on the advantages and disadvantages of the system, compared to that of a paid body of judicial functionaries. Lord Brougham has frequently insisted on the great social benefit of bringing cheap law and justice home to every man's fireside ; but that great political philosopher has never stated what this cheap law and justice would cost. The financial cost is not the principal or important cost in a system of extensive functionarism, but the moral cost, the deteriorating influence of the system on the indus- try, habits, and moral condition of the people. Wc see a tendency in our most enlightened and liberal statesmen — which is only held in check by the financial cost of indulging it — to centralize in the hands of government much of the public business, the local magis- tracy and police, the prosecution of ofl'ences, the care of the poor, the support of high roads, the education of the people, instead of leaving these duties to be, as heretofore, performed by the people for themselves. A few of the effects of the functionarism which necessarily 94 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. overspreads these countries in which governments do what it should be left to the public spirit or the necessity of the people to do for themselves, are sufficiently visible, and may assist in solving the question. All this subsistence in the field of government employment paralyzes exertion in the field of private industry. This is an effect which the most unobserving traveller on the Continent re- marks. The young, the aspiring, the clever, and the small capi- talists in particular, look for success in life to government employ- ment, to public function, not to their own activity and industry in productive pursuits. With us, civil or military employment under government is scarcely seen, is nothing in the vast field of employ- ment which professional, commercial, or manufacturing industry throws open to all. Abroad, all other employments are as nothing in extent, advantage, social importance, and influence, compared to employment under government. Functionarism has, in its effects on the industry and wealth of nations, replaced the mo- nastic and overgrown clerical establishments of the middle ages. It was not the vast wealth of the Roman Catholic Church, and of its convents, monasteries, and other establishments, that was detrimental to the national wealth and prosperity of a country. These were but an additional wheel in the social machine. All that was received was again expended; and whether a bishop or a duke, an abbot, or an earl, received and expended the income derived from the same acres, could make no diflerence in national wealth. As receivers and expenders, the clerical were perhaps better than the aristocratical land-owners, because they understood husbandry better, and expended their revenues in peace, in their own fixed localities, by which a middle class beneath them was enabled to grow up. Still less was it, as Voltaire and the political economists of his days imagined, the celibacy of so many idle monks, and nuns, and clergy, and the want of population by their celibacy, that were injurious to the prosperity of Catholic countries. The celibacy of the Popish clergy is in no other way injurious to a nation than that a single man can live upon less than a man with a family, and that consequently many more individuals can obtain a living in an unproductive profession, as the clerical (considered economically) is, from the same amount of church revenue, than if all in the profession were married. Our church extensionists ought, in consistency, to advocate the celibacy of the clerical order NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 95 among us, because the same revenues of the church — either of the Church of England, or of the Church of Scotland — would thereby support three times the number of effective clergy, and in equal comfort; the expense of a family being at least three times greater on an average than that of a single man, and it is church endowments, and not the mere dead stone and lime work of buildings, that are necessary in true and effective church extension. But it was neither the wealth, nor the numbers, nor the celibacy of the Po- pish clergy, that made them in the middle ages, and make them at this day in all Catholic lands, detrimental to national wealth and prosperity. It was, and is, the amount of easy living, of social importance and influence, which the clerical employment offered, and which naturally turned, exactly as functionarism on the Con- tinent does at present, all the youth of abilities, and with small capitals to defray the expense of education, to a clerical living instead of to industrial pursuits. We see even in Scotland, in re- mote parts, that the ease with which, during the last war, clerical students could accomplish the Httle that country presbyteries re- quired in studies at the university, and could slip into a kirk, turned away from the broad paths of worldly industry many who ought to have been sitting behind the loom, or the desk, and whose talent extended just to finding out and securing a good pulpit-hvelihood. Abroad, the employment under government, in the present age, attracts to it, as the Church of Rome did in the middle ages, all the mind, industry, and capital of the middle classes, on whom the wealth and prosperity of a country are founded. The little capitals stored up in those classes are saved, not to put out their ^i-oung men, as with us, into various industrial pursuits, and with suitable means to carry them on, or to extend the original branch of business in which the family capital was acquired, but to sup- port their sons while studying, and waiting for a hving by public function in some of the numerous departments of government employment. It may be reasonably doubted if tiie Popish church, in the darkest period of the middle ages, abstracted so many peo- ple, and so much capital from the paths and employments of pro- ductive industry, as the civil and military establishments of the continental governments do at the j)rcsent day in France and Germany. The means also of obtaining a livelihood in monkish or clerical function were less demoralizing to the public mind and spirit; for some kind of intellectual superiority, or self-denial, or 96 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. sacrifice, was required, and not merely, as in fimctionarism, bare- faced patronage. National character partakes of the spirit which the main object of pursuits among a people produces in individuals. It is at the hand of government, by favour and patronage, and through sub- servience to those in higher function, that the youth of the Conti- nent look for bread and future advancement. All independence of mind is crushed, all independent action and public spirit buried under the mass of subsistence, social influence and honours, to be obtained in the civil and military functions under government on the Continent. It is to be observed, that, in time of peace, the military service in most foreign countries is scarcely different from the civil. Having no distant colonies to garrison, no posts in un- wholesome climates to occupy, no perpetual rotation at home from one quarter to another, but being generally stationed for many years in the same towns, the military act upon the industry of the country in the same way, and with the same effects, as the body of civil functionaries. Both together form a mass of subsist- ence, influence, and distinction to be attained by other means than productive industry, and which smothers all exertion and spirit of independence in the industrial classes. The sturdy-minded English industrialist toils and slaves at his trade, to become some day an independent man, to be beholden to no one, to be master of his own time and actions, to be a free agent individually, acting and thinking for himself, both in his private, and, if he has any, in his public capacity, or business. To this end he brings up his sons, and puts them out in the world with a trade, and with capital, if he has any, to attain this end. The dependence upon others for a living, the subserviency and seeking for favour, inher- ent in a functionary career, do not come within his sphere of action. A living by productive industry is, generally speaking, far more certain, and more easily obtained in our social system, in which military, clerical, and legal functions under government patronage, and a living in either of those branches of public em- ployment, are rare, and altogether out of reach and out of sight of the middle classes in general, forming no object to the great mass of the industrialists-class to breed up their sons to. This is the great moral basis on which the national wealth, industry, and character of the English people rest ; and is the only basis which can uphold real liberty in a country, or a social state in NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 97 which civil Uberty as well as political, free agency in private life as well as free constitutional forms of government, can exist. The Germans and French never can be free people, nor very industri- ous, very wealthy nations, with their present social economy — with their armies of functionaries in civil employments, extending the desire and the means among the classes who ought to rely upon their own independent industry in the paths of trade and manufacture, of earning a living in public function by other means than their own productive industry. This universal dependence upon public function smothers at the root the growth of independ- ent feeling, action, and industry. Political liberty, the forms of a liberal legislative constitution, the Continent may obtain ; and France has obtained such a con- stitution as always opposes a considerable, and often a successful check to the measures of the executive : yet with all this real political liberty, the French people have as yet no real civil liberty, and in consequence of the general diffusion of the spirit of functionarism through society, no idea of, or feeling for civil liberty. The private rights of individuals as members of the social union are every hour infringed upon by their social insti- tutions in a way which individuals with any just feeling of inde- pendence and civil liberty, and with political liberty to give effect and reality to their sentiments, would never submit to. As an instance of the state of the public mind in France, and indeed all over the Continent, on the rights and civil liberty of the individual members of society, ic is matter of leave and license, of passport and police regulation, for the native Frenchman or German to move from place to place, or to exercise in many countries any kind of trade, profession, or means of living, within his own native land. The very elector, going from Paris to his own home, to exercise perhaps the highest privilege of political liberty — his elective franchise, in voting for a representative to the chamber of deputies — has so little civil liberty, and so little idea of it, that he must apply for and travel with a passport asked from and signed by a government functionary. This is a caricature of liberty. It is liberty in chains, her charter in her hand, her paper cap of liberty on her head, and manacles on her feet. The German populations have not even attained this state. They are without political liberty, as well as civil liberty. The police of the country, the security of person and property, 98 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. are, it is alleged, better provided for by this governmental sur- veillance over and interference in all individual movement. The same argument would justify the locking up the population every night in public gaols. Good police, and the security of person and property, however valuable in society, are far too dearly paid for by the sacrifice of private free agency involved in this ultra-precautionary social economy. The moral sense of right, and the individual independence of judgment in conduct, are superseded by this conventional duty of obedience to office. Men lose the sentiment of what is due to themselves by others, and to others by themselves ; and lose the sense of moral rectitude, and the habit of applying it to actions. A Frenchman or German would not think himself entitled to act upon his own judgment and sense of right, and refuse obedience to an order of a supe- rior, if it were morally wrong ; nor would the public feeling, as in England, go along with, and justify the individual who, on his own sense of right and wrong, refused to be an instrument of, or party to, any act not approved of by his moral sense. The spirit of subordination and implicit obedience, which we isolate and confine entirely to military service, enters on the Continent into civil life. The scenes of bloodshed in France under the revolutionary government, could never have taken place among a people bred up in habits of moral free agency, and of reflecting independence of individual judgment on action. The instru- ments would have been wanting in the tribunals. The general moral sense would have opposed the enactment or fulfilment of such decrees. The non-interference of government in our social economy with individual free-agency, and the intense repugnance and opposition to every attempt at such interference with the indi- vidual's rights of thinking and acting, have developed a more independent movement of the moral sense among the English people than among the continental. It is their distinguished na- tional characteristic. The individual Englishman, the most rude and uncivilized in manners, the most depraved in habits, the most ignorant in reading, writing, and rehgious knowledge ; standing but too often lower than the lowest of other nations on all these points; will yet be found a man wonderfully distinct, and far above the educated continental man of a much higher class, in his moral discrimination of the right or wrong in human action, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 99 far more decidedly aware of his civil rights as a member of so- ciety, and judging far more acutely of what he terms fair play, or of what is due to himself, and by himself, in all pubhc or private relations or actions. It is the total absence of government interference, by superintendence and functionaries, in the stream of private activity and industry, that has developed, in a remark- able degree, this spirit of self-government, and the influence of the moral sense on action among the English. It is their educa- tion. We may call them uneducated, because they cannot read and write so generally as the Scotch, the French, or the Prussian people ; but as men and citizens they have received a practical education, from the nature of their social arrangements, of a far higher kind and value than the French, the Prussian, or even the Scotch can lay claim to. They -are far more independent moral agents in public and private affairs. In France and Prussia, the state, by the system of functionarism, stepped into the shoes of the feudal baron on the abolition of the feudal system ; and he who was the vassal, and now calls him- self the citizen, is, in fact, as much restrained in his civil liberty, and free agency, as a moral, self-acting member of society, by state enactments, superfluous legislation, and the government spirit of intermeddling by its functionaries in all things, as he was before by his feudal lords. The physical condition of the people of those countries has, beyond all doubt, been improved by the general diffusion of property through the social mass, and has advanced to a higher state of well-being and comfort than with us ; but their civil and moral condition has not kept pace and advanced with it. They have the property, but their governments endea- vour to retain the privileges which belong to property, the rights of individual free agency in the moral and industrial use of it. These are two antagonist powers in the social economy of the Continent. An unseen power called the state is held now, as it was in the most stringent days of the feudal system, to be the owner of all the materials of human industry, of all occupations, trades, and professions, of human industry itself, of all the deeds and thoughts of each individual, of his body and soul, it may be truly said ; for instead of being free to do what law does not prohibit, he can do nothing lawfully but what law permits. He cannot engage in the simplest act of a free agent in civil society without leave and license, and being in some shape or 100 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Other under the eye and regulation of this unseen proprietor of all earthly. He may, as in France, enjoy a considerable share of political hberty that is of a constitutional voice in the enactment of laws ; but civil liberty, the uncontrolled freedom of action, and of the use of property, of body, and of mind, subject only to the most obvious and urgent necessity of interference by government to prevent evil to others — is as little enjoyed by him in the con- stitutional as in the despotic state ; as little in Belgium or France, as in Prussia or Austria. The same principle of intrusion on the civil liberty of the subject pervades the social economy of all these states — interference is the rule, non-interference the excep- tion. Yet of what value is political liberty, or a representative legislature, but to give and secure to every man the full and free enjoyment of his civil liberty ? A free constitution is but a plat- form for political adventurers to declaim from, if it does not bring civil liberty into the social economy of a country. The just conclusion is, that mere changes in the forms of go- vernment, and in the machinery and forms of legislation, will not suddenly, and as a necessary consequence, change the spirit of the people, and that in genuine liberty, in practical civil liberty, in the individual freedom of action and of mind, and the influ- ences of this freedom on moral, intellectual, and national charac- ter, the people of the Continent are but little more advanced now than they were under Frederic the Great, or Louis XIV", or Napoleon. They are still slaves in the spirit and principles of their social economy. What they understand by liberty, and are clamorous for, is political liberty, not civil liberty, the instrument of liberty without its use, the outward forms without the spirit in their social economy. But this is not always to be so. This is but the transition state of society just casting off the net-work of slavery in which the feudal system had for ages enveloped it. The vassal is now the proprietor, and in France at least more or less the legislator him- self. It is his mind that is behind his social position. He is a proprietor without knowing the rights of property. The old feudal spirit still hngers in the regenerated governments and people ; but the seed is sown, the leaven is working. Property will gradually take its own place, and assume its own rights in social affairs. It has been widely diffused by the effects of the French Revolution throuffh all ranks and classes of the social NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 101 body of France and Germany. It is not merely property in land, but also personal property, capital, that has been spread among the people, and a spirit of industry, a feeling of individual inde- pendence, naturally accompanied this ditTusion of property. But the rights inseparable from industry and property — free-agency, the uncontrolled use and exercise of them — are retained by go- vernment as a basis for the support of kingly, power. The prin- ciple of government when land was almost the only influential property in society, and that was in the hands of a small privileged class deeply interested in the support of the source from which they derived their property and privileges, and held them exclu- sively, is transferred to a social state, in which land is in the hands of all, and no one class has any exclusive interests or rights, de- rived from the crown and connected with lands, to maintain. Owing to the natural and unextinguishable influences of property on the human mind, this can only do, either in France or Ger- many, until the public mind becomes educated and elevated up to its social position, and along with the physical enjoyment and possession of property, claims also all that morally and politically belongs to the enjoyment and possession of property, viz. : free agency as individuals, self-government by representative constitu- tions as citizens. It is evident that one and the same principle as a support of uncontrolled kingly power, cannot be found equally efl'ective in two such totally distinct combinations of society, as that of all land being concentrated in the hands of a small privi- leged class closely connected by every tie and motive with the crown, and that of the general diff"usion of land among a popula- tion quite unconnected with it. The very fiction of law of the crown being the source from which the landed proprietor derives his rights, falls to the ground where the right is almost universal, and conveys no conventional privilege attached to such property, and where succession by primogeniture is abolished. The crown attempting to retain restrictions on the use and free enjoyment of property after it has lost all connection with it, is in a false position. Two distinct powers in society— the power of property and the kingly power— have thus, by the great convulsion of the French Revolution, been placed in a state of incompatible co-exist- ence. They are two antagonist powers in the social economy of France, Prussia, and Northern Germany, two powers in oppo- sition to, not in unison with each other. The rights of property, 102 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the free agency of the possessor in the use and application of it, the moral free agency of the individuals possessing it, their self- government and self-management of all that affects it, are natural prerogatives of the possessors of property which, where a whole nation are the proprietors, cannot be usurped to support, by dint of an unnatural system of functionarism extending over the pre- rogatives of property and the private rights of proprietors, a royal autocratic power of the community that has no exclusive rights or privileges now to bestow upon any class of proprietors. Such an usurpation of the rights of property, and of the natural pre- rogatives of proprietors, by the intrusion of functionarism into all the social relations, affairs, duties, and industrial movement of a people of proprietors, can be no stable or very long endured arrangement of the social economy of a country. What is the jarring between the monarch and the states in Hanover? What are the petitions for a constitutional representation to the new sovereign of Prussia from the most important towns in his do- minions? What is that great national movement, the German commercial league, but the efforts of property to obtain its natural rights in society — the distant sounds that precede a storm? When this usurpation of the rights of property in the social economy of the Continent is removed, either by gradual steps or by sudden convulsion, on what has kingly power to rest? A monarchical government and a democratical distribution of the landed and other property cannot exist together. They are an- tagonist elements in social economy. The French Revolution, considered as the beginning of a radi- cal, inevitable, and beneficial change in the physical, moral, and political condition of the European people, must be regarded by the social economist as a movement only in its commencement. It has left the continental population in two very distinctly marked divisions. The one consists of the populations in which, with a few modifications and reforms not affecting the grand principle of their social economy, the old feudal arrangements of property, and the aristocratic basis of kingly power raised upon feudality, are retained. Austria is undoubtedly at the head of this division. The other consists of the populations which have adopted a new social economy in which the two corner-stones of feudality, pri- mogeniture and hereditary privilege, are taken away, and kingly power has only the temporary basis of functionarism for its sup- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 103 port. France is at the head of this division. The diffusion of property, the abohtion of privilege and primogeniture, and the introduction of functionarism as a substitute for aristocracy and a basis for the support of government, are all derived from the French Revolution ; and Prussia entered voluntarily into the cir- cle of the new social economy of this division, mider the adminis- tration of Prince Hardenberg, in 1809. It was found necessary, if Prussia was to preserve a national existence, to give the mass of the population that interest in the defence of the country which was totally wanting under the feu- dal distribution of the land into noble estates cultivated by the forced labour of serfs. The following sketch will explain im- perfectly the amount of change in the state of landed property in Prussia produced by this measure. Previous to 1800 landed property was, on the greater part of the Continent, divided into noble or baronial, and peasant, rotu- rier, or not noble holdings. The former class of estates coidd only be held by nobility, and had many unjust exemptions from public burdens, and many oppressive privileges attached to them. These baronial estates, by far the greatest in extent, had the peasantry who were born on the land adscripti glebx ; had a right to their labour every day for the cultivation of the domain ; had civil and criminal jurisdiction over them in the baronial court of the estate ; had a baronial judge, a baronial prison on the estate to incarcerate them, and a bailiff to flog them for neglect of work or other baronial offences. These slaves were allowed cottages with land upon the outskirts of the estate, and cultivated their own patches in the hours or days when their labour was not required on the barony lands. They paid tithes and dues out of their crops to the minister, the surgeon, the schoolmaster, and the barony or local judge who resided on the estate, and was ap- pointed by the proprietor, as patron both of the church and of the court of the barony, but out of the number of examined jurists, or students of law, who were candidates for these local judgeships. This is, for the system is not abolished altogether, the ^reat object of the numerous body of law students at the German universities. The local judge is, like the minister, with a fixed and comfortable salary not depending on the will of the patron, and he is a servant of the state revised by, and reporting to, the 104 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. higher local judicatories, and with promotion open to him from the local baronial to the higher courts of the country. If the serf deserted, he was brought back by the military, who patrolled the roads for the purpose of preventing the escape of peasants into the free towns, their only secure asylum, and was imprisoned, fed on bread and water in the black hole, which existed on every baronial estate, and flogged. The condition of these born serfs was very similar to that of the negro slaves on a West India estate during the apprenticeship term, before their final emancipation. This system was in full vigour up to the beginning of the present century, and not merely in remote un- frequented corners of the Continent, but in the centre of her civilization — all round Hamburgh and Lubeck, for instance, in Holstein, Schleswig, Hanover, Brunswick, and over all Prussia. Besides these baronial estates with the born-serfs attached to them, there were Bauern Hofe, or peasant estates, which held generally of some baron, but were distinct properties, paying as feu duties or quit-rents so many days' labour in the week, with other feudal services and payments to the feudal superior. The acknowledgment of these as distinct legal properties not to be recalled so long as the peasant performed the services and pay- ments established either by usage or by writings, was the first great step in Prussia towards the change in the condition of the peasantry. It was stretched so far as to include the serfs located on the outskirts of the barony, and paying daily labour for their patches of land, and who originally were intended by the pro- prietor to be his servants and day-labourers for cultivating his mains or home-farmed land, but who, by long usage and occupa- tion for generations, had become a kind of hereditary tenants not to be distinguished from those occupants acknowledged to be pro- prietors, or what we would call copyholders. Prince Hardenberg's energetic administration made all these occupants the absolute proprietors of their several holdings, for the yearly payment of the quit rents they had been paying to the baronial proprietor, and had these quit rents, whether paid in labour or other services, or ingrain, valued by commissioners at fixed moderate rates, and had them commuted and brought up from the dominant property, under inspection of the commissioners, by the surrender to it of a portion of the land of the servient property, if the peasant had no money for the purchase of the redemption. This great and NOTES OK A TRAVELLER. 105 good measure, which was projected and carried into effect by Stein- and Hardenberg in a succession of edicts, from that of October 9, 1S07, up to June 7, 1821, is the great and redeeming glory of the reign of Frederic-William III, and, like all great and good measures, was accomplished with much less difficulty than was anticipated. Feudality had become effete. A strong and vigorous exertion was necessary to give the people some- thing to defend — some material interest in the country. 13y this measure, Prussia was at once covered with a numerous body of small proprietors, instead of being held by a small privileged class of nobility. This revolution in the state of property was almost as great as that which had taken place in France, and it is pregnant with the same results and tendencies. It gave comfort, well-being, pro- perty, to a population of serfs. It emancipated them from local oppression, raised their moral and physical condition, gave them a political, although as yet unacknowledged existence, as the most important constituent element of the social body. But here the Prussian Revolution has stopped short of the French. It gave no political liberty or influence under any form, no representative constitution to those to whom it had given clear and distinct pro- perty, and consequently the feelings, influences on the human mind, and the requirements which the possession of property brings along with it. The people hold the property, and the crown, by its system of functionarism and military organization, endeavours to hold all the rights and prerogatives belonging to, and morally and civilly essential to property, all the civil and political liberties of the proprietors of the country. As a necessary sequence of the emancipation of the country population from feudal services to the noble land-owner, the town populations were emancipated from the restrictions and privileges of their feudal lords, viz.: the incorporation of trades and bur- gesses. Every man was entitled to be admitted to the rights of burgess or citizen on paying a certain fixed sum (in Berlin it is thirty thalers) for his burgess ticket, and is entitled, whether he has or has not served an apprenticeship, to exercise any calling or trade. This second step completed the change in the social economy of Prussia, and altogether obliterated its former cliarac- ter of feudality as far as regarded the people, although the govern- ment still clings to the feudal principle of autocracy, without any 8 106 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. representation of the proprietors of the country. If these were small privileged classes of nobility, and incorporated bodies, inter- woven with royalty, as under the old feudal arrangements of society, and kept by exclusive privileges and distinctions apart from the main body of a people, and closely united to each other and to the crown by every tie of interest and honour, this order of things might, although opposed to the spirit of the times, and to the gradual but great advance of society in an opposite direc- tion, linger on, as in Austria and other feudally constituted coun- tries, in a feeble existence, waiting the blast that is to overturn it. But in a whole nation of proprietors, it is a false social economy — an order of things too unnatural to be stable. In France, the body of proprietors possessing the land of the country have obtained a portion, at least, of political liberty, a re- presentation, by a part at least, of their own body in the legislature, and. may, without any very violent convulsion, give themselves hereafter the civil hberty they still want, in proportion as the public mind becomes prepared to cast off the trammels on indi- vidual liberty and free agency imposed by functionarism and government interference. Prussia has not taken this step, and is now in the false position of holding fast by a power which has no roots in the new social economy she has adopted. The govern- ment has cast loose the absolute kingly power from its sheet- anchor, the feudal system, and is now clinging to the twig of functionarism to save itself from being hurried along with the stream of social improvement. France and Prussia should be viewed by the social economist consecutively. They have the same two antagonist principles in their social economy, although in France the ultimate predomi- nance of the power of property over absolute kingly power is no longer doubtful. Functionarism in France, enormous as it is, will be broken down as a state element for the support of kingly power, by the element of popular power in the constitution, the Chamber of Deputies. But in Prussia the people have no shadow even of legislative power, no kind of representative chamber, and are abjectly patient under the total want of civil and political liberty. Property, and a prodigious social reform, have been thrust upon them by their government in a kind of speculation on improvement, rather than attained by any invincible desire of their own, or by any national struggle for their ameliorated social NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 107 condition. All has been clone for them, not by them; and they enjoy the physical good this change has brought them, like a body of emancipated slaves who receive their own natural rights as gifts from their former masters, and sit down in grateful content- ment. The kingly power, both in Prussia and in France, seems aware of its false position, and anxious to reconstruct an order of hereditary aristocracy, endowed with entailed landed property and privilege, as a social power for the support of monarchy. But in social economy, as in human life, the nulla pes relrorsxim is the principle of nature. The abolition of primogeniture, and the consequent diffusion of landed property through society, have morally, as well as territorially, done away with the class of privi- leged feudal aristocracy as an influential social element in both countries. It would be the show, not the reality, of a nobility that could be re-established now in Prussia or in France. The social position and importance of an hereditary aristocracy are, besides, filled up by the new social power — the body of function- aries, in the social arrangements which have sprung up from the ashes of the French Revolution. CHAPTER IV. PllUSSiA.-^NOT CONSTITUTING ONE NATION.— PRUSSIAN POLICY IN THIS CENTURY.— ATTEMPT TO FORM NATIONAL CHARACTER.— WHY NOT SUCCESSFUL.— MILITARY ORGANIZATION OF PRUSSIA.— LIABILITY TO MILITARY SERVICE OF ALL PRUSSIANS.— SERVICE IN THE LINE.— IN THE ARMY OF RESERVE.— FIRST DIVISION.— SECOND.— EFFECTS OF THE SYSTEM ON THE POLITICAL BALANCE OF EUROPE.— ITS ADVANTAGES. —ITS DISADVANTAGES COMPARED TO A STANDING ARMY.— ITS GREAT PRESSURE ON TIME AND INDUSTRY.— ITS INFERIORITY AS A MILITARY FORCE.— AMOUNT OF MILITARY FORCE OF PRUSSIA.— DEFECT IN THE CONTINENTAL ARMIES.— NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS.— MEN.— TOO DELICATELY BRED IN THE PRUSSIAN ARMY.— LONGEVITY OF OFFI- CERS.— THE PROBABLE ISSUE OF A WAR BETWEEN PRUSSIA AND FRANCE.— POLICY OF ENGLAND IF SUCH A WAR ARISE. The Prussians are not nationalized by those moral infiuences ■which bind men together into distinct commmiities. They are not, like the English, the French, the Spaniards, a people distinct in character, spirit, and modes of living— a nation unamalgamated and unamalgamable with others. They have no national lan- guage, literature, or character ; no old established customs, man- ners, traditions, modes of living and thinking, laws, rights, or in- stitutions of ancient times peculiar to and distinctive of Prussians. Their history as a nation is but of yesterday, and is not properly their history, but that of the sovereigns of a small part of the present Prussia— -of Brandenburg— who beginning the world about a century ago with a margraveship of about one and a half million of subjects have, by good luck and military talent, gathered together a kingdom of shreds and patches of other countries, con- taining about fourteen millions of people. These have no national history of ancient times common to all, or to a majority of Prussians, and connecting the present with the past by feelings of veneration and hereditary attachment. Prussia has, in ordinary parlance, only a geographical or political meaning denoting the Prussian government, or the provinces it governs — not a moral or social meaning. The Prussian nation is a combination of words rarely heard, of ideas never made, the population not being morally NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 109 imited by any common sentiment or spirit of nationality distin- guishing them in character, mind, or habits from the other German populations around them, the Austrian, Bavarian, Saxon, or Han- overian. The German populations have never been distinguished by any strong spirit of nationality. They have always been divisible, like a flock of sheep, into any parcels at the pleasure of their shepherds, without vigorous indications of such national distinctiveness, character, and feelings of their own, as might render their division and amalgamation with other groups danger- ous or impracticable. To remedy this defect in their social struc- ture, to kindle a spirit of nationality, form a national character, and raise a Prussian nation, bound together by moral influences like the French or English, as well as by mere territorial and poli- tical arrangements, is the great under-principle which has run through all the domestic policy of the Prussian government in this century. Frederic the Great had no higher policy than to retain the territories he had acquired by the means which acquired them — a strong standing army, and a military system superior to that of other powers. His successors adhered to the same policy ; but the first shock with the armies of a people animated by national spirit dissolved the dull German delusion, that drill and discipline alone are sufficient in modern warfare to replace the higher moral influences. Germans against Germans, monarch against monarch, in a scramble for territory, and the people in apathy and indifl'ei'- ence, and with no interest at issue, the contending potentates made conquests according to the number of their highly disciplined troops. WarVas really, what it was often compared to, a game at chess, in which the royal gamesters could calculate upon the powers and effect of each piece and move. The French wars from 1794 to 1814 wrought a mighty change in this royal game, and made every cabinet of the old school feel, that with national sentiment kindled by moral influences, no people can be subdued, and without it none can be secure. The alteration in Prussia of the law and holding of landed property, and the subversion of the ancient feudal relations between the peasantry and the nobility — a change almost as great in the state of property, and altogether as great in the structure of society, as the revolution produced in France ; the new military system, by which the people themselves became the only standing army ; the new educational system, by which government has in its own hands the training of the mind 110 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and opinions of the public through its own functionaries ; the new ecclesiastical system, by which the two branches of the Protestant church, the Lutheran and Calvinistic, are joined together, and blended into one different from both, the Prussian church ; the German custom-house union, or commercial league, centralizing in Prussia the management of the commercial and manufacturing industry connected with the supply of the other German popula- tions, and raising a Prussian dominancy over the industrial pur- suits of the rest of Germany, are so many steps towards the one great object of imbuing the Prussian population with those moral influences, without which a populatian is not a nation, and on which national greatness, independence, and even existence, de- pend. " To what extent has this great experiment been successful ? this solitary attempt on the old continent— analogous to that which has been so successful on the new — to form a national character, to kindle a national spirit, to convert a mass of individuals of different origins, languages, religions, histories, laws, customs, into a nation ? The American cement, the main ingredient in the American cement, is totally wanting in Prussia — freedom, the uncontrolled freedom of industry, property, mind, and person, without interference of the government by laws to the enactment of which the people are no party, and by a system of function- arism which supersedes free agency in all civil and even many domestic relations of life, and extinguishes the moral influences and national spirit which the government wishes to kindle, leaving the people a passive mass in the hands of their rulers. The Prussian government has taken one step, and is afraid to take the next, which naturally and unavoidably must follow the first, and lives in an unavailing struggle to reconcile things irreconcilable with each other — a supreme interference of the state in all human action and opinion among her subjects, with the activity, industry, and prosperity, the national character, public spirit, and patriotism, which a people only attain where action and opinion are free and uncontrolled. The present military organization of the subjects of Prussia is one of the most important features in the social economy of the Continent. It has been adopted, with more or less rigour in its application, by almost all the secondary European powers, and its principle and spirit enter into all the civil as well as the mili- tary arrangements of those countries, and extend an influence NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Ill over the whole social condition of the European population, much more extensively than any other military system has done since the decay of the feudal. The system of standing armies which preceded it, and which still exists with us, entered but slightly as an element in the social economy of a country. The classes who had to furnish recruits to it either by enlistment, or impressment more or less concealed under the forms of a ballot, suffered a loss of the members thus abstracted from civil Hfe ; but that was almost the only effect on the social economy of the mass of the population, excepting the taxation more or less heavy in different countries, necessary for supporting a standing army to- tally distinct from the people. It is a singular historical fact, that Prussia has twice, within these hundred years, furnished the model on which almost all the other European powers have formed their military force, even to the most minute details. The former mili- tary system of Prussia, as it was left in its highest perfection by Frederic the Great to his successors, was one of harsh and bruti- fying discipline, enforced by the cudgel over trembling squads of serfs trained into mere movable machines. The first shock with the undisciplined troops of the French republic proved that this system was false, that humanity was not to be outraged with impunity in the formation of armies, and that mind and moral influences were superior elements even in modern tactics to the deadening discipline of the corporal's stick. The whole of the European armies formed, even to the shape of their buttons, upon this Prussian model, were by numberless defeats totally disorganized. It is not the least of the benefits resulting from the French revolutionary wars, that a more humane spirit of military discipline, a greater consideration for the mind and rights of the soldier, as a human being, and a greater dependence upon the spirit and moral influences than upon a forced mechanical move- ment, have been introduced, in consequence of these defeats, into the military system of every country. The new military system of Prussia, as established by edicts of 3d September, 18M, and 21st November, 1815, has been adopted by almost all the secondary European powers. By this system* every subject between the ages of 20 and 25 years, with- out distinction of fortune, birth, class, or intended profession, is bound to serve as a private soldier in the ranks of the standing * Gesclzc uebcr die Militair Pflichli-koit. Berlin, ISlo. 112 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. army for a period of three successive years. From this obliga- tion only the most obvious incapacity from bodily or mental defect or infirmity can excuse any individual, and that incapacity must be examined and admitted by the local board of commis- sioners for military affairs, whose proceedings are reported to, and watched over by, a superior provincial board, and both report up6n every claim for exemption to the war department. By the construction of these boards it is impossible that favour, partiality, or local interest can screen any individual from his turn for entering the service for three years — which turn is deter- mined by lot drawn by those who are between the prescribed years, viz. : between 20 and 25 years of age — nor from serving his three years in that particular branch of service or regiment for which, from stature, constitution, or previous occupation, he may be best adapted. Officers from each branch of service — of the guards, artillery, cavalry, and infantry — attend these boards at their sittings, for this selection. In order not to press too se- verely on the professions or occupations incompatible with such a long period of military service, certain exemptions on account of the social position of the individual are allowed by favour, and on certificate from the proper authorities, so as to reduce the period of service in a regiment of the line from three years to one year, the individual thus favoured being at the expense of his own clothing and accoutrements. But such exemption is the exception, not the rule ; is not matter of right, but of favour ; and also political convenience, when the ranks of the standing army are already sufficiently full. After this service of three years in a regiment of the line or standing army, the individual returns on leave of absence as a supernumerary, liable to rejoin his regiment in case of war ; but upon attaining his 26th year, after his three years' service, he is discharged from the lists of the standing army into the army of reserve, and into that division of it which is called erster Aufgeboths, or first for service. This is the real army of the country, being composed entirely of sol- diers of three years' training, and between the ages of 26 and 32 years. The standing army is the formation-school for the population. One-third of its numbers is discharged every autumn into this division of the army of reserve, and replaced in spring out of the population by the local and provincial boards of com- missioners. The army of reserve is called out for exercise and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 113 field manoeuvres for fourteen days every year, which, however, is sometimes extended to four weeks. The individual, after his 32d year, is turned over from this first division to the second division (zweiten Aufgeboths) of the army of reserve. In case of war, this division would not t^ike the field, but would do garrison duty, as being composed generally of men with families, and more advanced in life, and also of half-invalids who had been found unfit for severer duty. After his 49th year, the individual is turned over into the land-sturm, or levy en masse, which is only mustered or exercised in its own locality, and would only be called out in case of actual invasion, or domestic tumult. The whole land is thus one vast camp, the whole population one army. Every man in every station of life, and in every locality, is a drilled soldier, who knows his regiment, his company, his squad, his military place in it, and appears under arms at his rendezvous for duty with as little delay or confusion, and as complete in all military appointments, as a soldier of any stand- ing army quartered in cantonments. The admirable precision and arrangement with which all the equipments of each portion of the army of reserve are placed in convenient depots and head- quarters over the country, for the inhabitants of each locality belonging to that force, prevent any confusion in the working of this vast and admirably arranged military system. Standing armies, composed of men enlisted, or impressed, for an unlimited period of service, or for a period long enough to separate thenci from the rest of society almost entirely, to detach them as a class from all the ties and habits of civil life, exist now only in Russia, Austria, France, and England. Prussia and all the secondary powers have dropped this kind of military force. In France six years, and in Austria eight years are the term of service for the conscript drawn by ballot for the army, and lately the period is extended to eight years in France ; and, as far as regards the individual's habits and ties, this is almost equivalent to unlimited service. All the other European powers have organized their military Ibrce upon the Prussian principle ; and this has imper- ceptibly altered most essentially their relative political importance, and the weight of Prussia in European allUirs ; and particularly has become an element in the social structure, and in the pohtical balance of power of the European states, of great interest to the political philosopher observant of those silent changes which 114 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. come over civilized society unremarked, until on some sudden crisis they produce striking effects. This national army of the Prussian system appears to be the cheapest, the most effective, and most valuable military force a country can keep. Its cheap- ness, indeed, in proportion to its great numerical strength, and to the fine and efficient appearance under arms, to which good arrangement and disciphne have brought this force in Prussia, has led to the almost general adoption of the system on the Con- tinent. The soldiery are only in pay during the period they are embodied, that is, during the three years' service in the line, when they may be considered as learning their military duty, and, afterwards, only during the few weeks yearly of army of reserve service, when the troops are assembled for field manoeu- vres, in great masses, in different points of the kingdom. Our military men who gallop about at these grand Prussian reviews declare unanimously their admiration of the appearance, move- ments, manoeuvres, and military excellency of the Prussian army ; and its drill and equipments, as well as its organization, have become a model for other troops, almost as generally as they were at the commencement of the revolutionary war, before the onset of troops far less exquisitely drilled and dressed than the old Prussian army, settled the real value in the field of this parade perfection for half a century. This kind of military force, however, if duly weighed in all its bearings on the community by the political economist, will be found in reality the most expensive and ruinous, instead of the cheapest, a country can support. It is an enormous pressure, a ruinous tax, in reality, upon the industry of a nation — a reckless waste of the property — of the time and labour which constitute the property — of the labouring and middle classes, and which re- duces, and for ever keeps down, the people to a state of poverty. Look at its working among those classes. Take, for instance, a lad of two and twenty who has just learnt his business as a car- penter, smith, weaver, or other handicraft, and then for three years, the three most valuable years in his life for acquiring steady habits of work, and manual dexterity and skill in his trade, put him into a regiment of the line in a distant part of the country to live the idle life of a soldier for three years, away from the advice or con- trol of his friends, and without seeing or handling the implements of the trade he was bred to. What kind of operative tradesman, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 115 or head of a family, is such an education to produce? But after three years' service he finds his way home, resumes his original trade, marries, and from 25 to 4S years of age, that is for 23 years, he has to give at the least two weeks yearly — I believe it is more usually four weeks — to his army of reserve duty. Now, if we take the working years of such a man to be 40, that is from 22 to 62 years of age, we have 14,600 working days in his life, includ- ing, however, Sundays, holydays, sickness-days, and drunkenness- days; and out of this gross capital of 14,600 days, this man's military duty of three years' service in the line, and 14 days for 23 years afterwards in the army of reserve, takes away 1417 days, or just about 10 per cent, of his operative life. It is equivalent to a property tax of 10 per cent., taking the lowest data of calcula- tion, upon the labour and industry of the working, producing classes of the nation ; and observe it is not 10 per cent, on the value only of the produce of the time, labour, and industry of the people, that is consumed by those governments, but one-tenth of the productive powers themselves— of the very time and labour of the people. Nor is this all. It is in the good weather half-year, in the drilling and reviewing season only, that many kinds of out- door labour and many sorts of crafts can be carried on to advan- tage ; and, besides, the greater severity of winter in Prussia, and generally on the Continent, the extent of country, and the conse- quent inferiority of cross-roads and facilities of transport, impede industry and business during the bad weather half-year, to a de- gree unknown in our compact, well-roaded land. The working man's time is worth double to him at the very season it is taken from him by his government for drills and parades. The system is incompatible with a progressive condition of a people, with any considerable growth of national wealth, or any extensive develop- ment of manufacturing industry. The labouring man cannot raise his condition to the middle class ; scarcely can he gather savings for old age. The middle class is formed under this system of taxation on time and labour, not by the rise of individuals from the lower class, as in our social system, but by the breaking down of the class above itself The German military system, and the German commercial league, are at direct variance with each other. If the former prevail, and continue to devour the only basis of national wealth and prosperity — the time and labour of the people — the latter will linger in a forced existence, and gradually die 116 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. away. If the latter prevail, and Germany become in reality a thriving, industrious, manufacturing country, this military system, and the whole system of interference of the continental govern- ments with the people in all their doings engendered by it, must fall to the ground. Many conceive, theoretically, that it must be the great safeguard of the liberties of a country, its best protection from tyranny, that the whole people have arms in their hands and know how to use them. This may be true, if political liberty alone, that is, the form or constitution of a free government, be all that is understood by liberty, and if the people have got the forms of a free government, which they have not in Prussia ; but if civil liberty — the right of every individual to the free use of his mental and bodily powers, and to his own free agency as a moral and social being, subject only to such restrictions as he him- self has concurred in and imposes by his own representatives for the general good — be the end, and political liberty only the means, then this is not true of such a military organization of a whole people. It is sacrificing their civil liberty — which is the great end and object of free institutions— for their political liberty, if they had any, for the defence of a share in the forms of legislation. It is paying for the saddle, and leaving nothing to buy the horse. It is stated by a statistical writer, Jancigny, as an approxima- tion to the proportion of the military to the population of different countries, that in Russia 1 in 57 of the population is serving as a soldier ; in Prussia 1 in 80 ; in Austria 1 in 118 ; in France 1 in 122 ; and in England 1 in 320. But in this statistical approxima- tion the writer forgets the most important element in it, as far as regards the industry, morals, and habits of a people, viz., that in England this 1 represents a whole military generation. As long as this 1 lasts, the 320 do not furnish another 1 to fill his place as a soldier, and when they do, it is 1 who can be spared, whose social condition allows him to enlist. In Russia it appears to be the same — the 1 represents a whole military generation. In Austria and France, the 1 represents 8 years, and 6 years respec- tively, during which periods the 1 is not replaced out of the body of the community ; and as, after 6 or 8 years of military service, many soldiers have lost all civil ties and means of earning a living, and re-engage as substitutes for those drawn to replace them, the system is nearly equivalent in practice to the English and Russian. J3ut in Prussia the 1 represents only 3 years. He is then thrown NOTES OP A TRAVELLER. 117 back with his half military, lialf civil habits, into the mass of the community, and another 1 is taken out of the SO, without regard to his social position or relation to others, to be demoralized by the same process. By demoralized, it is not here meant that the soldier is necessarily a less moral man than the civilian, but that his habits of industry and steady application to work, and his knack or skill in his trade, are necessarily deranged ; and in this sense his military service demoralizes him for civil utility. His mind and habits, as well as his manual dexterity and aptitude, are injnred. The operative, taken away from his factory, where his individual intelligence and dexterity may often be most important to its prosperity, to be drilled and lead a military life for three years, and afterwards yearly for several weeks, returns with his habits, mind, and hand out, as workmen express it, when they resume their tools after long disuse. He is no competitor against a workman in the uninterrupted exercise of his handicraft all his life. A public trained in the habits of military life are, also, bad consumers, as well as bad producers. The whole community necessarily brings from the ranks the rough tastes and habits easily satisfied with rude production, and very little of it, which are inseparable from the condition of the common soldier, what- ever class he may flave been originally drawn from. As con- sumers, they do not bring into the home market the almost fas- tidious and finical taste for and estimate of fine workmanship, superior material, and perfect finish, which is a principal element in the superiority of one manufacturing country over another. Notwithstanding the testimony of all military officers to the fine appearance and efficiency of the Prussian troops, it is reasonable to believe that men who know that they are only tied to their military service in the line for three years, and are hankering after their civil occupations, and counting the days until they can return to their homes, are, as soldiers, not equal to men who have no con- nection with civil life, no tics, cares, hopes, property, or domicil beyond their military position. This seems to be a point in human nature, on which others as well as military men are able to form an opinion ; and as, immediately previous to 1794, the testimony of all the military officers of Europe ran quite as high in favour of the efficiency of the Prussian army, as then constituted, such testimony to its superiority as now constituted cannot be received 118 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. as altogether infallible. Regiments of the line almost totally re- newed in the course of three years, with one-third of their strength always raw recruits, and their oldest soldiers, generally speaking, of less than three years' standing, can scarcely be equal to old regiments of seasoned soldiers, although they may be pattern regiments for drill, dress, and good arrangement ; and regiments of reserve, although consisting of soldiers of three years' standing, if only --embodied for a few days or weeks in summer, are after all only a good militia. England, Russia, France, and Austria have adopted a far cheaper military system for society, one better for the civil liberty of the people, and probably one better too for having effective troops, by taking a proportion of the people by voluntary enlistment, or by forced conscriptions, and keeping the same individuals always, or as long as they are fit for service, embodied as an army, relieving the rest, the great body of the community, altogether from the heavy annual tax on their time and industry, which presses on the people in Prussia and the other German States. These scape-goats for the rest of the community form, probably, more effective soldiers individually; and collec- tively are, without doubt, a more effective military power in the hands of a government. The whole population of a monarchy, organized, drilled, disciplined, regimented, ready and effective at a call to fight for king and country, sounds remarkably well in a schoolboy's oration, or a newspaper paragraph. But look closely into the thing. A modern army is a political machine composed of artillery, cavalry, and infantry, in the hands of a state, and movable at its pleasure; and unless this- machine be not only per- fect in its parts, but movable and disposable for offensive, aggres- sive operation, as well as for mere defence of its native land, it is of no real political weight in Europe. Does the Prussian system fulfil these conditions of an effective, political, military power ? Is it perfect in all its parts, or only as perfect as the nature of its formation allows it to be? Artillery and cavalry, the most essen- tial parts of this machine, can scarcely be formed at all in less than three years, we are told by our most experienced officers who have written on tactics ; and in these services the man is part and parcel of his horse, or of his gun. He has not, like the infantry soldier, a value independent of other things; but out of connection and practice with the identical gun, horse, and squad he is trained to work with, he is but part of a tool, the stock of a firelock, the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 119 handle only of a hammer. It is evident there can be no perfection in these two important branches of military power in such militia troops. Is such a military machine as that of Prussia movable and disposable ? Is it a military force which could be shipped to attack or to garrison distant colonies — and without colonies Ger- many can scarcely become what German politicians fondly dream of, a great commercial power — or to carry on such a war as France has now on her hands in Africa, or as Russia wages in the Caucasus, or even to carry on a few campaigns in Germany itself, or in the Netherlands ? If Hanover were to occupy the Duchy of Brunswick, or France to invade the Baden or Hessian provinces on the Rhine, or to get up a war in the East, is the Prussian national army, constituted as it is, a military force which could be freely used in a succession of campaigns, like any other political military force, on such ordinary political occasions no wise affecting directly the safety of Prussia ? Or is this military machine defensive only, and, from its composition, of no weight or value as an available offensive power? Prussia was called upon by sound policy, and the ties of kindred, to prevent the dismemberment of the kingdom of the Netherlands, and to extin- guish the Belgian revolution; and a few disposable regiments sent to Brussels to support the King of Holland— on the same principle that Austria sends a few regiments on every alarm into the Papal or Neapolitan states — would have turned the scale. At the siege of Antwerp, Prussia was obviously called upon in honour to take a part, when a French force was actually in the field against her allies the Dutch. A good cause was not wanting, nor evidently was the will wanting on the part of the Prussian royal family and cabinet : but the means, the machinery of an aggressive military power, movable at the pleasure of the state, for any purpose, for any length of time, and to any quarter, were wanting. A Prussian army could be assembled for annual exercise and manceuvre on the frontier, for purposes of demonstration, and even of occupation of adjoining parishes in Luxembourg; but however brilliant, expert, and well disciplined such an army might be, and however ready and eager to engage in actual war- fare its officers or its»men might be, it is obviously so constituted that it cannot be freely used in the field by its government as a political machine. The property, the industry, the intelligence. 120 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the influence of the country, are in its ranks — all that is vakiable in a nation is in its ranks, and not merely a class given up to military service as scape-goats for the rest of the community, and composed generally of the least valuable and most isolated mem- bers in it, whose loss is simply the loss of soldiers. Here, the loss would be the loss of the owners or heirs of the property of the country — the loss of fathers, husbands, sons — of men on whom the interests and industry of the country hinge — of the most useful and influential classes in it, not of the unconnected, idle, and outcast only, of whom an ordinary standing army is composed. The loss by a victory would be greater to Prussia in a political and economical view, than the loss by three defeats of ordinary troops. The affairs of society would be more deranged ; more useful life would be destroyed. An army composed of such materials^cannot be risked, unless on the rare occasions, as during the last war, when national existence and safety are visibly at stake. The loss even of time and labour to all the productive classes, the destruction of all manufacturing industry and enter- prize by calling out the army of reserve, composed as it is, for actual service for a campaign or two, would be such a sacrifice of all social interests, as only the most imminent danger could justify. If all wars were, like the last, for national existence, no system could be superior to the present military arrangement of the Prussian population ; and all the secondary European powers have run headlong into it, on account of its obvious excellence for the defence of a country, and its apparent economy ; and for the same reasons, all politicians and political economists are loud in its praise. If all the European countries had adopted the same miUtary system at the conclusion of the last war, this might have been wise. The only question would have been, whether the economy is not in appearance only — whether the taking up of the time and labour of the whole productive classes of a nation for military service, be not in reality a retrograde step in civilization and political economy, and one more expensive and ruinous to the people than the taxes upon the value of the products of their time and labour, necessary to pay a particular class to perform that military service for all. But the other powers have each re- tained a disposable military force of a different nature, consti- tuted on a different principle, and available as a political machine for any purpose, in or out of the country, without regard or refer- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 121 ence to the machine itself, or its connection with the industry and property of the nation, and therefore, as a maciiine, of superior weight and availabihty in European affairs. The new national armies have no aggressive capabiUty, and consequently no power of intimidation in them. They are like the enormous pieces of ordnance found in old fortifications, to be fired off only in one direction, and only in defence. A French diplomatist would probably laugh in the face of a Prussian diplomatist who could talk seriously of an armed alliance of Prussia and the other Ger- man powers who have adopted her military arrangements, for any political purpose whatsoever beyond the simple defence of their own territories, each for itself from within. The power of acting offensively without their own territories is gone. Tliis great difference in the constitutions of their armies since the peace has produced the most important alteration in the relative weight and importance of the European powers. It has altogether changed, in an unseen way, the balance of power in Europe. For offensive war, and as a political power, Prussia has dropped the sword; while Russia, Austria, France, and England have retained it as something of weight ready to be thrown, upon great questions arising, into the political scale. It is a mistake to talk of the five great dominant European powers ; for as a belligerent capable of giving effect by offensive operation beyond her own territories to her political determinations, Prussia is in reality as much out of the question as Denmark, or any of the secondary powers in the European system. It is a signal instance of the hidden compensations which neutralize and coun- terbalance all excess of evil in human affairs, that this great military monarchy, the last which made and retained conquests and acquisitions of territory without reference to moral principle, or appeal to the feeling of the people themselves, or to the sense of right among mankind — for such were the conquests of Frederic the Great, the acquisitions of Silesia, and of the Polish and Pome- ranian provinces now concealed under the name of East Prussia — is the first which was shaken to the ground in the late war, by the insufficiency of her own military power for her own de- fence — a mechanical military power without national feeling; and now, by the perfection of the mechanism of her military power for home-defence, she is paralyzed, and disarmed as a great political power. 9 122 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Of all the European powers, Prussia supports the greatest mih" tary establishment in proportion to her extent, population, and finances. The infantry of the line is reckoned 132,013 men. The cavalry of the line and of the guards, 25,200 men. The artillery of the line and of the guards, 22,365 men. Pioneers, miners, and other bodies of the engineer corps, 13,500 men. The infantry of the landwehr, exercised yearly, 124,737 men. The cavalry of the landwehr, exercised for four weeks yearly, 19,656 mounted men. The artillery of the landwehr, 17,292 men. The amount, including 8118 officers, is 362,881 fighting men. Two-thirds of the landwehr, first for service, are sufficient to complete the land- wehr regiments to their war establishment, so that one-third (above 80,000 men) of this division of the force remains dispo- sable, and the whole of the division of the landwehr second for service, which is. as strong as the first division. The whole available exercised force of Prussia is reckoned by military writers at 532,000 men. The artillery is said— of course no exact information on such a point can be obtained or sought by the traveller — to consist, in pieces complete and useful, of 648 six-pounders and howitzers, of 216 twelve-pounders, and of 216 light field-pieces for horse-artillery, besides an unknown amount of heavy guns in the fortresses and in 336 garrison towns. The funds required in time of profound peace and non-movement of troops, to keep up this enormous military force, appears to be 22,798,000 thalers, out of a total revenue of 51,287,000 thalers. The revenue being pushed to the utmost point beyond which the productiveness of additional taxation would be null, being man- aged and collected also with great economy — the direct taxes costing but 4 per cent., and the indirect taxes 15 per cent., on the gross amount, as expense of collection— it does not appear how, in the event of a war, funds could be found to move this huge military machine. The time, labour, industry, and money which should have been accumulating during peace in the hands of the people, and forming a capital diffused over the country capable of bearing the expenses of a war, are expended every year in military shows, drills,, and manceuvres, which, even admitting that they make perfect soldiers of the whole population, leave nothing to move them with in the event of real war — nothing to raise taxes from. In the whole Prussian population the number of males fit for productive labour, that is, between their, seven- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 123 teenth and forty-fifth year inclusive, appears to be about three millions. It is 3,042,946, including the infirm, sick, blind, lame, deformed, and all fit or unfit for military duty and productive labour. Above one-sixth of this gross number of productive labourers is taken by the state every year, for longer or shorter periods, from productive labour, to be employed in the unpro- ductive labour of handling their firelocks, marching and manoeu- vring. A people whose time and labour are thus taken away from industrial occupation can never become rich or powerful as a nation, nor well off as individuals. The Duke of Wellington was right in an observation which has often been caviled at — that notwithstanding our heavy taxation, the English labouring people are the least heavily taxed of any labouring people in Europe. The time and labour of the common man, with us, are not taken from him by his government. The unwieldiness and disproportion of the Prussian military force to the industrial force which should raise the means to move it, appear from the follow- ing comparison : — Prussia,'' with a population of 14 millions, has an army of 532,000 men. Austria, with a population of 32 mil- Hons, has an army of 750,000 men : but if Austria adopted the Prussian military system, her army would amount to 1,216,000 men. France, estimated in 1841 to have a population of 35 millions, has an army of 840,000 men; but on the Prussian mili- tary system, her army would amount to 1,330,000 men. Great Britain, with a population of 26 millions, would, in proportion to Prussia, have an army of 987,000 men as her present establish- ment—a greater number than in the heat of the last war, reckon- ing volunteers, yeomanry, and all, were ever withdrawn from preparing the sinews of war by the exercise of private industry, to make shows and sham- fights, or even to repel a threatened invasion. It is a defect in the present construction of the continental armies — of that of France as much as any — that the private soldier who has raised himself to the station of a non-commissioned officer, has no prospect whatsoever of attaining the rank of an ofllcer. The class of non-commissioned ofliccrs is, in fact, ex- pressly excluded from any higher military promotion by the dis- tinction kept up, in most services, between nobility, from whom * Betrachtungen eines Militaers ueber einem bevoistehendeu Krieg zwischen Deutschland und Frankreich. Leipsic, 1841. 124 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. alone officers can be appointed, and the non-noble, citizen, or burgerliche class. In France and Prussia this distinction is kept up by appointing officers only from the cadets, or military schools, and requiring scientific examinations for a commission. The sons of functionaries, civil or military, who are educated care- fully, and at some expense to the state, as well as to their parents, are thus exclusively entitled to become officers ; and as functionarism breeds up to its own supply, there is especially in the healthy services of those powers who have no colonies or unwholesorbe climes to wear out human life in, always a surplus of those who have a right by education, promise, and long ex- pectation, to vacancies as they occur in the regiments in which they are doing duty as expectants or cadets. The meritorious private soldier or non-commissioned officer is thus entirely ex- cluded from any chance of promotion. Now this is a defect upon which a civilian is entitled to form an opinion as well as a military man, because it is a defect in the application of principles of social economy common to all institutions in society, as well as to an army. To exclude merit or capability from the highest point to be attained can never be a good arrangement in any social institution. Education is the plea upon which this exclu- sion of the whole class of non-commissioned officers from pro- motion in the Prussian service is justified. Education is certainly not to be undervalued, especially for the officer ; but, if we con- sider what the duties of a commissioned officer are, as ensign, lieutenant, or captain, and that in an army of a hundred thousand men, not two hundred are required to apply science or high education to their military duties, it appears obviously to be only a cover for the monopoly of the rank of commissioned officers by a particular class, to require that every subaltern should be educated to take the command of the movement of armies, and should pass through scientific examinations which would proba- bly puzzle a Wellington. A sergeant-major with his sergeants manoeuvres his company, troop, or regiment, without the aid of the officers. He does daily the duties which they superintend, and in reality learn practically to do from him. To shut the door totally upon this class is evidently a faulty arrangement of. the hiilitary system of a country. The efficiency of the French armies, so long as this door was thrown wide open — that is, during the whole of the Republican period, and until the Emperor Napo- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 125 leon shut it upon them, and upon his own success — proves that 210 military force is well constituted under the exclusion of the common soldier from the hope of attaining the higher military- situations. The moral principle is too powerful for the aristo- cratic, in modern times, even in military arrangement. The French and Prussian governments, without acknowledging the exclusion in favour of a noblesse, introduce it practically, by re- quiring the education which their noblesse, or functionary class, can alone afford to give. I could not hear of a single instance in Prussia of a man, not entered as a cadet, and entitled by his ex- aminations in science to a commission, who had risen from the ranks, since the peace, to the station of an officer. The govern- ment, indeed, has expressly declared, that the ultimate reward of long service and merit in this class is to be the appointment to such civil offices in the departments under government, as the non-commissioned officer or private soldier may be qualified to fill. In France, it is this defect in her military system which, in time of peace, seems inseparable from her civil arrangements, from her functionary system, that keeps alive the discontented republican spirit in the great body of the youth who supply the ranks, yet are excluded from promotion in the army. The reign- ing family never can obtain military popularity, as this exclusion is naturally ascribed to their system of government, and is not upheld by any distinction in civil society between those within and those without the pale of military promotion. The "/?e/<7 caporal,^'' applied to Napoleon, is not merely a term of endear- ment in the recollections of the French soldiery — it has a political meaning. In England, this defect in the old military arrange- ments has been perceived by the late liberal ministry ; and the non-commissioned class has been raised to a higher respectability than in any service in Europe. The chances are small, no doubt, in the British army, of the private soldier or non-commissioned officer attaining the rank of officer ; yet more such promotions of men, originally from the ranks, take place in one year in the British service, than have taken place since the peace in all the continental services put together. The non-commissioned class in an army are tho equivalent to the middle classes in civil society. When the want of education, the vice, the brutality of our lower orders, are so much talked of by our higher orders, it is some- 126 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the enlisted soldiery — no want of men of education and conduct to form a class which, in moral and intellectual condition, stands above the middle class of civil society, and not at all below the higher orders who vilified that fmm which it is formed. Is it not in a great degree a mere fa^on de parler among our gentry, when thoy speak of an ignorance and moral and intellectual degradation of our working classes, with whom they in reality never mix or converse on such a footing as to know what they are ? The superior status, as men of conduct and intelligence, of this middle class in miUtary life, its higher respectability, and greater efficiency in the British service, strike the traveller abroad, who happens to observe the different style of doing those ordinary duties in which the men are left entirely with a corporal or sergeant — as in relieving sentries — in the British and in foreign regiments. In the latter, it is obvious that, when the eye of the officer is off, the restraint of discipline is not upon the men. The unmilitary observer abroad can apply no other test of the state of discipline to what he sees of soldiery, than the precise or lax style of the men when in charge of non-commissioned offi- cers only. If this be an admissible test, the discipline of the British service is more genuine and better than that of the Prus- sian. Two distinct elements may enter into the construction of a military force in modern times. The rough peasant, or working- man-element may compose not only the main body of the soldiery and non-commissioned officers, but may be mixed pretty high up even in the class of commissioned officers ; or the gentleman-ele- ment, that of the educated, refined, delicately bred and brought up classes, may, by the formation of the military force out of the social body, be found preponderating, if not in numbers, at least in example and influence, in the ranks of an army. Which of the two, as military machines, would a Wellington prefer to work with in a campaign? It is possible that a certain delicacy of mind and body, a certain impatience of fatigue and discomfort, a certain over-refinement for the work of the common soldier, may creep into and pervade too generally the mass of an army, assimilating the rougher material of which soldiery, to be effect- ive, must be composed, too much to itself The soldier, like the horse, may be too finely bred, too delicately reared for his work, too soft, too refined, too much used to comforts. The composiT NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 127 tion of the Prussian army, drawn indiscriminately from all classes, from the middle and comfortable as well as the roughly living classes, has this defect evidently in it, Tlie common labouring man himself on the Continent is, from the nattire of the climate and his indoor employments for half the year, much less exposed to, and le^ hardened against wet, cold, fatigue, and privation, than our common people. Those above the mere labouring class, the peasantry, the artisans, the middle class, and higher classes, all of whom are in the ranks, are so comfortably brought up, so wont to their regular meals, their cup of cofiee, their pipe, their warm clothing, warm rooms, and are so cold-catching and sensi- ble of weather, wet, fatigue, and discomfort, that even our high- est classes of nobility and gentry are much more hardy, and, as every traveller remarks, far more robust in constitution and capa- bility of enduring great fatigue and privation, than the very serv- ants they hire on the Continent to attend them. A military force composed of such a material may be very brilliant for a single field- day, a battle, or a short campaign even, and very effective for home defence, but is not of the stuff' for long rough fatigue and perse- vering endurance of all discomfort and privation, which in all ordi- nary military conjunctures are the military qualities that insure success. Something of this want of the rougher material, and of this excess of the finer material, appears, even to the unmili- tary eye, about the Prussian soldiery. They are light, well made, even elegant figures — youths evidently formed upon the standard of a higher class of society than the common men in other ser- vices. They have not only the use of their limbs, but the kind of grace of movement which such exercises as dancing, fencing and gymnastics give. They attitudinize well on sentry, dress individually well, and with a certain degree of dandyism, panta- looned, padded and laced in, and which beseems the soldier. But still the unmilitary English eye of the common traveller misses the giant frame, strength, and vigour, of the front rank men of our good regiments of the line. The guards even, and cuirassiers, compared to the British, appear — can it be prejudice, or is it reality? — of ordinary infantry and ordinary dragoon make and size. Put them in the uniforms of riflemen, or of hussars, and they would pass for such on ordinary unmilitary people ; but put one of our horse-guards or cuirassiers on the horse, and in the accoutrements of a light cavalry man, or one of our grcna- 128 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. diers, not of the guards alone but of any of our good regiments, into a light infantry company, and there is not a grocer in Mary- lebone parish who would not find out at once that thjs kind of man was misplaced. Now this kind of man— the strong, sinewy, bony, muscular, grenadier frame of man, such as composes the front ranks at least of all our good regiments of the line — is a very scarce kind of man in Germany, probably from the natural growth and make of the people, and also from their softer and more delicate, more sedentary, more indoor life in boyhood when the frame is forming. If you see a stout man he is generally fleshy, with more weight than strength. A tendency to grow corpulent, and with what generally accompanies that tendency of the frame, a shortness of the arm bones as compared to men of the same size, of lean, spare constitutions, is very common in Germany. This tendency to a lusty, roundabout, rather than a muscular growth, strikes the eye in the Prussian soldiery, and is no doubt derived from the easy, regular, good living, to which the classes from whom the ranks are filled have been accustomed from infancy. If a doubt maybe permitted to a traveller, not certainly qualified to judge of such military matters, it would be — Is this so good a material to form an army of, this admixture of a class more delicately bred than the common labouring man, and giving its own habits, wants, and tastes, to the whole mass ? Is this gentleman-element so well adapted to stand privation, fatigue, discomfort, and all that assails the common soldier, as the rougher material, the common working-man element, out of which our army is composed ? Another obvious defect in the military establishment of Prussia is the want of any cure for longevity. The common men live, indeed, too short a time in the service — only for three years; but the officers live by far too long. Captains of companies of forty-five years of age, and lieutenants advancing to that time of life, are too common. Africa in the French service, the East and West Indies, the expense of home quarters, and the good half pay in our service, are remedies counteracting in some degree this malady, the most pernicious to the efficiency and vigour of a military force that can get the ascendency in it. It was the main cause of the destruction of the Prussian army in the first cam- paigns of the revolutionary war against the French •, and our own army never did any good in the last war until the elderly gentle- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 129 men were got rid of, and captains of companies were generally under five-and-twenty, and field officers under five-and-thirty. With officers of the age when, in the course of nature, activity, endurance of fatigue, elasticity of body and mind, are failing, order, discipline, and appearance may be kept up admirably in a body of men, but the spirit and dash are wanting. Prussia has no unwholesome districts, or severe military duties wearing out human life, or disgusting the officer with the service, and but few advantages for the military man to retire upon when getting too old for the duties of the inferior officer. The promotion is con- sequently slow, and men grow old in situations which require the spirit and activity of youth. It is not in the habits, also, of the upper class to keep themselves young by hard exercise or fatigue. The French officer is perpetually in movement like a hyena in his den. It may be only a den of a coffee-room, or billiard-room ; but there he is all day, in perpetual activity of mind and body. The English officer has his daily feat of pedes- trianism, harder than any forced march ; his hunting, his shooting, and is always in wind and working condition for any exertion. The German officers seem naturally of more sedentary habits. You seldom see them taking heavy downright fatigue for mere pleasure or emulation, as our young officers do. The very school- boys walk, and don't run in Germany. In the event of a rupture with France upon the French claim of having the Rhine for their boundary, the chances would run very much against Prussia, notwithstanding the excellence of her military arrangements for defence : it is a national question in France, one which has become almost personal in the spirit of every Frenchman : it is a mere political distant object to the great majority of the Prussian population. They have shown them- selves capable of great exertion on great occasions ; but this would not be one of those great occasions which call forth na- tional spirit for the defence of national existence, or material interests. German steam is not easily got up. The jealousy of the governments extinguishes everywhere in Germany the ex- pression of public opinion, and consequently the diffusion of national spirit on subjects not immediately pressing upon the people. No political discussions in newspapers or in conversa- tion, no agitation or party feelings upon their own affairs, keep alive the flame. In public places where people meet and talk, 130 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the literature or science of the day, the theatre, opera, or ballet, and perhaps the reviews of the military, and the journeys of their princes to or from their residences, are discussed, but never the national objects, interests, or politics. You never hear among the lowest class of Germans the vulgar prejudices of the vulgar Englishman, Frenchman, or American, about the superiority of his country, which make him insufferable as an individual, but respectable as an atom of a nation inspired with the same intense public spirit. The Prussians are educated, trained, and governed out of this spirit. The German newspaper writers, since the agitation of France, under the administration of Thiers, about the Rhine boundary, begin to talk of a German national spirit to be kindled in every breast by the German commercial league, but have only got so far, as yet, as to tie quarreling about whether this universal Teutonic flame is to be lighted upon a Prussian hearth-stone, or is to have a fire-place for itself: whether all Germany is to be Prussia, or Prussia a part of all Germany united into one bundle, and set fire to as soon as the French march to the Rhine. Considered as a question in the social economy of Europe, France has already made the conquest. French law and French distribution of property through society, French courts for civil and criminal affairs, French ideas of the rights of a people to a constitutional representation in the legisla- ture of the country, are already at the Rhine. The French con- stitution in which the people have some share of political power in the legislature, and some checks upon the government of the monarch, the trial by jury, the publicity of all public affairs, the one simple code of Napoleon regulating all private affairs, place France some ages in advance of Prussia with her uncontrolled autocratic principle of government. The people on the Rhine are advanced to that social condition with respect to industry, property, and intelligence, in which the French government would suit them, and have got far beyond that condition for which the Prussian government may be suitable. The political change from the one form and principles of government to the other must inevitably follow. Prussia, in reality has not, in the event of a war, the means to prevent it. The partition of Poland is but beginning now to present her with the fruits of iniquity. The two or three millions of Polish subjects of Prussia, so far from being amalgamated with the Prussian subjects, live in a NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 131 Stale of passive resistance to the Prussian government. They cuhivate their own nationaUty, will not piix with the Prussians, and will not even accept of civil office, or educate their children in the German language, customs, and laws, so as to fill the civil functions in their own country. They hold themselves as subju- gated provinces, and are evidently in a state which will paralyze the Prussian military power the moment the French throw up a signal rocket from the banks of the Rhine. All that time had done since the partition of Poland towards amalgamating the people with Prussia, has been lost by the Prussian government delivering up to Russia the Poles who had sought refuge, during the late commotions in Poland, among their relations and friends on what they considered Prussian territory. At present the Polish peasants who desert their homes in Russian Poland to escape the military conscription, are seized in the villages of Prussian Poland, and sent back. This, say the Prussian Poles, justly enough is not the state of a country amalgamated and incorporated with another independent country and protecting government, but the state of a subjugated country held only by conquest, and entitled to throw oft' the yoke. So general has this spirit of passive resistance to Prussian rule become in this part of the Prussian dominions, that his present majesty has been obliged, since his accession, to remind his Polish subjects by a proclamation, that they have been incor- porated with his kingdom in the settlement of Europe, in 1815, by the five great European powers. The Poles quietly reply, that three of the five are themselves the robbers, partaking in the spoil to which they gave themselves these legitimate rights ; and refer to the undeniable non-protection of their provinces as Prussian territory, for the proof that they are not Prussian. It is here, and on the Rhine, that the flame of war will first break out on the Continent of Europe. What will be the policy of England? The day is past when an English ministry, how- ever conservative, could venture to propose to the country to join a despotic state in subjugating Poland, or in repressing the exten- sion of constitutional representative government over an enlight- ened, manufacturing, and commercial population on the Rhine. The aggrandizement of France by such an accession of territory and people is a bugbear which, in the present age, would not mislead the common sense of England, because it would be an accession of the elements of peace, inttustrj^, manufactures, and 132 NOTES OP A TRAVELLER. power in the public affairs of France, lodged in the hands of an enlightened, industrious, peaceful population— not an accession of warlike spirit and means ; and is at any rate an aggrandizement in no way affecting English interests or honour. England can only be a gainer, if every population from the White Sea to the Straits of Gibraltar were to give themselves free institutions, civil and political liberty, influence of the public over public affairs, and the power of restraining their rulers from wars or oppression. CHAPTER V. THE GERMAN CUSTOMS' UNION, OR COMMERCIAL LEAGUE.— ITS ORIGIN OBJECTS—POLITICAL BEARINGS— AND PROBABLE EFFECTS. Will Prussia find in manufacturing and commercial industry, under the working of the German commercial league, that aug- mentation of her national wealth and power, that political great- ness and weight in the European system, which she has evidently missed by her overstrained military arrangements ? It may be doubted. The military arrangements of the Prussian system of government, and that social economy under which productive industry flourishes in a country, are altogether opposed to each other. They are founded on adverse principles : the one on re- straint, superintendence, and the interference of government with all individual action ; the other on the perfect free agency of men in all industrial pursuits. Both cannot exist together. But the German commercial league is a social movement so important in principle, so pregnant with great unlooked-for results, and so novel in the social economy of the German people, that it would be a very short-sighted view to consider it with reference to Prussia alone. Prussia, indeed, established it in its present ex- tent, is at the head of the union, and her population is about one half of all included within it; and Prussia being in possession, on the Baltic, on the Rhine, and in her Silesian and Saxon provinces, of almost all the commerce, manufactures, and capital within the circle of the union, will undoubtedly derive great advantages from it. But it has become a general overwhelming movement of the whole Germanic people towards a higher social condition — a movement in which the temporary and partial interests or influ- ences of one state or another are lost, and in which the govern- ments which began it, lead it, and are ostensibly at the head of it, are but the instruments. They have brought it to a certain point, beyond which it is rolling of itself, independent of their petty control, to higher social results than perhaps they ever wished or 134 NOTES OP A TRAVELLER. ever contemplated. The German people are, for the first thne in German history, united in one great object of material interests. They have been united before, in great and conflicting masses, for the political interests of their rulers, for religious interests, for the support or subversion of interests which may be called intel- lectual rather than material, as no advantage or amelioration of the social condition of the people was involved in them ; but now they are united for a clearly seen material interest ; and, for the first time, have made the influence of public opinion an effective state power in their internal affairs, and have made the public voice to be listened to and obeyed in the interior of the most exclusive and autocratic of cabinets; it is the " Young Germany" in old heads. The German commercial league is, in its results, to be the most important and interesting event of this half century. The first and simple object of this association, which commenced among the small independent principalities in Thuringia, was to save the expense of each little state keeping up custom-house guards all round its own little frontiers, by equalizing the custom- house duties levied on goods imported, exported, or in transit, according to one tariff" adopted by all, so that the duties being once paid at the general frontier, the goods might circulate, free of all other duties or examinations, through all the states of the union. The advantage of this arrangement may be appreciated from the fact, that, when each state had its own custom-house duties and examinations, on the Rhine alone, goods had to pass through twenty-seven different custom-houses. The duties now collected at once upon the general frontier, according to a gene- ral tariff adopted by all, are divided among the different states of the league, or union, in proportions according to the ratio of their respective populations as taken every three years. This principle of division, equitable as it appears at first sight, is in reality not so, and on that account includes a germ of discord. States which have great towns, or considerable manufacturing and trading populations, import and consume much more of the duty- paying, taxable commodities than a poor agricultural population of the same numbers ; and such states, Prussia itself among them, draw now much less revenue from the new than they did from the old system of levying the custom-house duties; and as town duties and salt duties, beer duties and others, are still retained by some of the united countries in severality, and the passport system NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 135 of examination of personal movement is still adhered to in all, the body of functionaries, who are in reality become a state power, is everywhere kept up, nearly as before, in numbers, and the ex- pense to each state of a preventive force on its own frontiers is not greatly diminished. To Prussia it makes a difference of half a million of dollars of loss. It is in fact an luijust principle, how- ever ditficult to find a better, that, for instance, the 64,000 inhabit- arTts of the town and state of Frankfort, the wealthiest and most luxurious, perhaps, in Germany, should produce no more revenue to their government from their consumpt than 64,000 of the wretched peasantry of Hesse or Bavaria to their state. This par- ticular case was, I believe, considered and adjusted more equitably when Frankfort joined the union. Another latent source of dislike to the whole system, on the part of the small independent states and principalities, is the dread , that this may be the first step of the Prussian power towards mediatizing them. The command and management of so im- portant a branch of their revenues by an autocratic government inimical to representative government may justly be considered dangerous to the independence of the smaller states, especially of those which have constitutions. This jealousy appears from the represdiitatives of the states engaged in the German league trans- acting their business in different towns in turn, but not at Berlin, or at any fixed place in the Prussian dominions, and from their allowing Prussia only one voice in the affairs of the league, al- though her population is about one-half, and her interest more than half, of all the parties concerned in it. Mediatize is a word which came into use at the Congress of Vi- enna of 1814—15, when Europe was parceled oat by Prince Met- ternich and Lord Castlereagh, and signifies the taking of small states because they are small, and giving them to great states be- cause they are great, without more regard to the rights of parties, or wishes of the people, than in the operation called highway rob- bery. A great and undeniable good, however, was obtained by abolishing the vexatious and vexatiously exercised power of many of these petty states. They were founded not on equitable, or federal and natural, but on feudal principle. The people were in all physical and moral circumstances in the same state as their neighbours at a short distance, who stood under a totally different mode of government, with different laws and courls. Tjic exlinc- 136 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. tion of such little independent, microscopic despotisms on the face of Europe was an undoubted benefit to society, and may, fairly considered, reconcile the world to the mediatizing them, unjust as the measure and principle may have been to the little potentate who fell from the glory of an independent ruler over 3000 or 4000 subjects, to the rank of a Prussian nobleman. His subjects gained by the exchange of petty vexatious government for general laws which affected all equally, however burdensome they might be, and were administered without favour or partiality to individuals or classes by the public functionaries of a great state. It is a question for which Europe perhaps is not yet ripe, but which in the progress of society must be determined, — Whether any power has a right, on just principle, to levy duties upon goods in transit to a third country, and merely passing up or down the rivers, or over the roads of the state levying the duties. Tolls for the repair and support of roads, river-ways, harbours, are unques- tionably equitable ; but any revenue beyond this levied from goods in transit can only be justified on the principle on which the old chiefs of the robber castles on the Rhine levied a similar ransom from the passing merchant — force. It is possible that America may some day tell the European powers who levy this tax on goods not the property of their own subjects,— We supply our customers behind you, the Swiss, Russians or Austrians, with cot- ton for their manufactures, with coffee, tobacco, &c. ; we transport it by sea without paying transit duties to any state 5 and we see no reason why fresh water should not be as free as salt water, and land as either ; and why we should not transport our goods to the buyers, up the rivers, and over the roads, as freely as along the coasts of Europe, paying only for what we use and benefit by, viz., light-houses, harbours, road money, towing-path money, and such tools. The liherum mare includes, if it be a just principle of international law, the lihei^a terra as a necessary consequence. A non-intercourse act on the part of the United States, against those European governments which choose to adhere to the old feudal trammels on the universal freedom of trade which have no foundation but in unprincipled force, would adjust many griev- ances in Europe to their advantage, and is the only kind of force which America can apply efficaciously against the great European powers. The second and most popular object of this great social move- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 137 ment in Germany is, by a prudent and well-constructed tariff of duties, to protect and encourage German industry and manufac- turers, to exclude by duties the foreign producer from the German market, and to extend the exportation of the products of their own industry to foreign markets. " This," says every German, " is the march by which England has reached her present wealth and greatness, and we should follow the same steps, of exclusion of foreign protection of our own manufactures, by duties pro- perly devised, and suited to our position." There are reason and good sense, along with the contrary, in these views. It is a mistake to ascribe this mighty movement of the public mind in Germany, as M. Molineau, M. Cargil, Mr. Urquhart, and other writers on politics and political economy do, to political causes, to Russian influence acting secretly on the Prussian go- vernment, or to the jealousy of France entertained by Prussia, or to any enmity of any power to England. There is the most influential of potentates at work in it — the material interest of the German people themselves. Their union on tiieir clearly seen material interests is, in truth, the natural, desirable, and for all mankind beneficial march of civilization in Europe towards a higher state — as beneficial to the English nation as to the Ger- mans themselves ; for in poUtical economy, as in private trade, what enriches our neighbours eventually enriches ourselves. The German commercial league, or, more properly, the German custom-house duty association, consists of the following popula- tions : — Prussia (excepting Neufchatel, a Swiss canton) - Bavaria (with some Saxon appendages) - - - Saxony ...-.-. Wirtemberg (with HohenzoUern Zigmaringen, &c.) Principality of Hesse ..... Grand Duchy of Hesse and Hesse Homburg The small states previously associated as the Thuringcr league Grand Duchy of Baden, part of HohenzoUern Zigmariiigen Nassau ....... Town and territory of Frankfort - - - - Brunswick ...._. A population in all about Each of the powers above stated has an equal voice in the af- fairs of the union— a concession to the jealousy of the small states 10 - 14,098,125 - 4.315.469 - 1.652,114 - 1,667,901 632,761 792,736 931,580 - 1,264,482 383,730 63,936 253,500 - 2(i,646,034 138 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. which Prussia had to make, ahhoiigh in itself unjust, and there- fore only temporary, for her population is half, at least, of all in- cluded in the league. The affairs, the settling the tariff, the establishing custom-houses and preventive guards on the general frontier, the revisal of expenses, of income, of the distribution, and all other business, are managed by delegates from the differ- ent states meeting at different towns in turn. This remarkable union, which commenced in 1816 in Thurin- gia, merely for the economy and convenience of levying their duties, was taken up by Prussia with probably more ambitious views, and by persuasion, coercion, and the popularity of the scheme with the German people, and its experienced advantages, has been extended over ail the countries from the Lake of Con- stance to the Baltic, from the Moselle to the Niemen, with the exception only of Hanover, Mecklenburg, the Hanstowns, the Danish Germanic provinces of Holstein and Schleswig, and one or two small principalities. All that can be called Germany out- side of the Austrian frontier is, with these exceptions,incorporated in this Germanic league ; and the people having, for the first time, common interests in all that the league proposes or effects, and the influence of public opinion on public affairs having, for the first time, shown itself in vigour, in carrying through the union with the league of states, which, secretly, were averse to it, or had, as Frankfort, interests directly opposed to it; the enthusiasm and unanimity of all classes on all subjects connected with this league; the discussions of its importance and effects on the pros- perity of all united Germany, exceed any demonstration of the public mind ever known among the German people. The first object of Prussia in taking up the league was, no doubt, Prus- sian ; was to advance her own power over the industry and com- merce of all the rest of Germany ; to secure an exclusive market for the productions of her manufacturing provinces on the Rhine, in all the countries which have no physical advantages for esta- blishing manufactures themselves; and, but for this league, would supply their wants from the nearer and cheaper markets of Swit- zerland, France, Belgium, or England. The object or hope of the Prussian government was, no doubt, to interweave her influence with the industry, commerce, and material interests of all Ger- many, so as eventually to supplant Austria and the state ma- chinery of the German confederated states, and bring all the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 139 latter ultimately under the Prussian sceptre. But Prussia had not taken into account the force of the new element she had con- jured up in German aflairs — the will, opinion, determined judg- ment, and effective capital of the German people, which entered with irresistible power into the aflairs and objects of the league. She herself had kindled this spark; for the junction of Frankfort with the league, clearly against her own interests as a great com- mercial entrepot for all foreign manufactures wheresoever pro- duced, and of some of the other states, as Brunswick, was effected by the coercion of public opinion excited by Prussia throughout Germany, to support the objects of the league. This new element, this new power in German affairs, has, in reality, taken the reins. Prussia has to follow, instead of leading, the public mind on the affairs of the league. The commercial treaty with Holland and that with England have been discussed and canvassed in every corner of Germany, as independently of Prussia as of any of the most insignificant states in the union. The treaties are praised or blamed, according to the knowledge and judgment of the writer or speaker ; but it is quite clear, from the general tone and ex- pression on the subject, that Prussian objects or interests in the league are thrown overboard, and that if Prussia is accepted of as the head of one united German interest, it is not as Prussia is, not as an autocratic military state without responsible ministers or a representative constitution, and merely Avith a cabinet of functionaries legislating from their own ideas or experience upon the complicated commercial interests of merchants and manufoc- turers, as upon the simple affairs of peasantry and militia. Prus- sia stands in an awkward political dilemma. She is pledged to a league which, if it succeed even to a moderate extent, must over- turn the autocratic principle of her government. Manufacturing and commercial prosperity and autocratic government, that is, a government legislating, however wisely and mildly, by edicts and irresponsible functionarism from its cabinet, are of incompatible co-existence. Public confidence in it for long unchangeable uni- formity of legislation is wanting, as the uncertain favour of a mi- nister, or life of a sovereign, stands alone between the capitalist and political changes which may aflect his capital. In the pre- sent age the merchant, the manufacturer, the class of capitalists, must have a clear and acknowledged voice in all public affairs, must stand at the helm of the vessel which carries their interests, 140 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and will not trust to the pilotage of royalty and its military and civil functionaries. This unforeseen dilemma of the Prussian state, and the unknown results to the monarchical principle itself as an autocratic power independent of the people, which are in- volved in the spirit in which the league has been taken up by the German populations, and made a common point of union for a liberal object under guidance of public opinion, will probably prove a secret dead weight upon the natural progress of this great social movement. It is already whispered that, in high circles, the retrograde movement to the old restrictions on the exercise of trade is talked of with favour ; the thing, it is con- ceived, has gone too far. The imaginative tendency of the German mind certainly leads the public, at present, into exaggerated expectations from the league, and makes them overlook many obstacles, physical, moral, and political, some removable, some not, which will prevent their exaggerated expectations from being realized. Their reasonable expectations, viz., that in time they may supply much of their own wants by their own industry and capital, and give employment in commerce and manufactures to the population which agricultural labour cannot absorb, may, to a certain extent, be attained. Their exaggerated expectations are, that Germany is to run the same career as England ; to attain the same national wealth ; to force or persuade Holland, Belgium, Hanover, Hamburgh, Denmark, to become members of the league ; to exclude all but their own goods and manufactures from the Continent ; to become an ac- knowledged political power; to have a common flag, common revenues; to have fleets, armies, colonies, and to be a great naval power on the ocean.* These wild fancies are gravely stated as practicable objects in the German pamphlets and newspapers of the day; and staid prudent people, from whom any notions so wide of common sense are unexpected, entertain them in all sim- plicity and seriousness. The commercial league occupies much of the public mind in the interior of Germany with such reveries. Imaginative writers, as well as the capitalists in the trading towns, have laid hold of the subject, and have taken the lead from the practical men in guiding public opinion. The real and the delu- sive, the possible and the impossible, are thus so curiously mixed up in the speculations of the Germans with regard to the league * See the Alkemeine Zeitune, 1841. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 141 and its results, that it will be useful to sum up the amount, and cast out the false items from the true. The reasonable and natural objects of the league, viz., to facili- tate communications by the removal of local restrictions, and to promote German industry and manufactures by protecting duties on supplies from abroad of the articles which can be manufac- tured at home, are only to a certain extent practicable in Ger- many, reasonable and natural as they appear, on a general view, to be. lu England we fall into a delusion by applying to Ger- many ideas formed upon our own compact, well-loaded land in which every distant point responds instantly to the pulsation at the heart; the Germans fall into the same error by applying ideas formed upon the social economy of England, or of France, to a vast extent of country peopled by distinct existences, in which each province, each town, each parish, each family has its distinct interests, and from physical as well as conventional causes, lives in a state of isolation. These are not bound together by material interests common to all. France, extensive as her land is, has over all common interests, — has her vast wine manufacture in the south supplying the north with that necessary of life, and her manu- factures and products of the north supplying the south with what it cannot produce. There is a natural bond of material interests uniting all the parts and provinces of France into one whole. But in Germany, independent of all artificial or conventional obstacles which the league may remove, there are natural obsta- cles which the league cannot remove, in the vast extent of terri- tory, and particularly in the sameness or identity of its natural products, to the exchange of industry for industry between the parts, and consequently to the existence of any bond of material interests common to and uniting all the parts. This is a defect which no league can remedy. The corn and timber growing populations, for instance, in the east or north of Germany, have no natural connection whatsoever with the manufacturing or wine growing populations in the west or south. The latter produce in sufficient abundance their own corn, timber, flax, and have no natural demand for the products of the former ; and the former can far more easily and profitably, and, therefore, more naturally, supply their wants of manufactured goods, or of wines, from England, Belgium, and France, which take in return the only products they have, corn, timber, flax, than from the provinces of 142 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Germany on the Rhine, or from Saxony or Silesia, by an expen- sive and uncertain land or river carriage, not open seven months in the year, and without retour carriage for the carriers, and without any reciprocal market for their own products. There is in reaUty no common interests between the parts to unite them into one country. They are one only in name, or, as in the Prussian dominions, in a political junction under one government, but have no real and natural union of material interests. The populations on the banks of the Thames and of the Ganges are much more efficiently and truly united into one nation by their material interests, than the populations on the Vistula or Niemen with those on the Rhine or Moselle. The history of the Germanic population down to the present days shows that no real principle of union, no community of material interests, has ever bound together any considerable mass of it into one whole, into one nation, with one common interest actuating all. The reasonable object of the league, therefore, is only attainable to a certain limited extent; and when it is attempted by protective duties, and custom-house cordons, to carry it beyond its natural bounds, and these are the interests of the consumers, one of two results will ensue ; either contraband trade will flourish, and Switzerland and Alsace will supply south-western Germany, France and Belgium north-western Germany, and England north- eastern Germany, just as before, only at a ruinous expense, and with the demoralizing consequences from smuggling to the body of consumers ; or contraband trade will be prevented by vigilant and costly means ; but one part of the country will be ruined for the benefit of another, from the simple and obvious cause, that the inhabitants, by the effect of the protective duties, are obliged to buy what they want from those who can buy nothing from them in return. If they had a free corn and timber trade to England, then indeed the inhabitants of the corn and timber pro- ducing countries of the north-east of Germany, which have no physical capability of becoming manufacturing countries, would have money to buy the manufactures forced upon them by pro- tective duties from the German manufacturing districts of the west. And this perhaps is the best argument against the aboli- tion of our corn and timber duties. The effect of the measure might possibly be— so long as the German states in the commer- cial league levy protective duties in favour of German manufac- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 143 tures — merely to furnish money to supplant the products of our own manufacture in the continental markets. If we give a free trade in corn and timber, we ought, in this view of the question, to require in return a free trade in our manufactures to the corn supplying countries. The effects of forcing the people, by a system of protective duties, to buy in markets in which they cannot sell their own produce, and to supply themselves with v/hat they require from producers who can take nothing from them, make it doubtful whether, considering Germany as a whole, the manufactnring prosperity of the west be not more than counterbalanced by the depreciation of property in the east. The value of land in east Prussia is stated to have fallen two-thirds on an average, and in some places even four-fifths, within the last ten years. Important towns, such as Danzig and Elbing, are stated to be falling into decay, their shipping dismantled,'* their river trade to the interior gone. Elbing, a city which formerly liad considerable trade, and several public institutions, is stated to be so reduced that the town taxes cannot defray the expense of lighting the streets. The cases of sales sitb hasid, or judicial auctions for behoof of creditors be- fore the courts of law, are stated to amount to a yearly average of twelve thousand in one province. These circumstances are stated as statistical facts in an esteemed work, similar but superior to our Annual Register (Venturini's Chronik des 1.0 Jahrhunderls). This depression of the eastern agricultural provinces, while the western manufacturing provinces are flourishing, is in reality a see-saw of prosperity — the one end up, the other down — between two parts of an extensive country, which physically and practi- cally have no common interests, no advantageous interchange of productions with each other. The one part is unavoidably sacrificed to the other; and the advance in prosperity or national wealth of the two as a whole is a mere delusion, because natural circumstances, viz., identity of production and distance of trans- port by land or sea between the parts, allow no interchange of industry for industry, no common interests to grow up. Tlie German political economists, indeed, while they admit the * la 180.7-6 Prussia had 1J02 ships, cairying 1()G,8;)4 hists. In lS:5S-!» Prussia had 617 ships, carrying 78, Ui)7 hists, being a diminution in this l)ranch of industry in her Baltic ports of 485 ships, or of tonnage 28,797 lasts. — Knr's Organismus des Prcussischc7i Slaals. I'cdin, 1841. 144 NOTES OF A TRAVEI^ER. depression in the east to be more than equivalent to the mannfac- tnring prosperity in the west of Germany, do not consider the one the cause of the other. They ascribe the depression to the policy of Russia, which has adopted and turned against Germany her own protective system, and attempts to raise Russian manufac- tures by prohibitive duties on foreign goods, and maintains a strict cordon of military custom-house guards upon her frontier, from the mouths of the Niemen up into Silesia. The case appears to be, that while the Baltic ports of Germany had British goods to deal with, they had, owing to the superiority of quality and finish, a considerable trade in them, as either legally, or by contraband means, such goods found their way into the Russian dominions; but having now only German manufactures to deal with, they have lost this home trade, because the Russians manufacture as good and cheap articles as the Germans in iron, and also in cotton and linen fabrics. The trade to Kiachta, also, on the Chinese frontier, formerly took coarse linen from Silesia to the value of eight or ten millions of thalers yearly. Russia now supplies this demand by her own manufacturing industry, and loads the Sile- sian linen with a duty equivalent to a total prohibition. German political economists complain of this; but they have no right to complain, for it is but the application of their own principle to Russian manufacturing industry. When the treaty of commerce between Prussia and Russia, which had existed since 1815, and expired on the 1st September, 1836, was to be renewed, the Prussian commissioner Westphal attempted in vain to obtain ad- mission for German manufactures, and a lower transit doty on Silesian linens intended for the Chinese market. It is matter of astonishment to German politicians accustomed to consider the personal will or relations of the sovereign as supreme in state affairs, that notwithstanding the personal friendship and near connection of the Prussian and Russian autocrats, no relaxation of this prohibitive system on the part of Russia could be obtained. The fact is, that the interests of the great nobility in Russia have some considerable control over the government. They carry on with their capitals the manufactm'es of Russia, especially those of iron and linen , and they consider it for their advantage to exclude the German and Silesian manufactures. The Austrian govern- ment, since the establishment of the league, acts on the same principle; and it may be questioned if German manufacturing NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 145 industry has not lost more by losing these good, steady, extensive, and near, almost home markets, than gained by attempthig to force a foreign market. The foreign consumers appear not very ready to deal with those who cannot in return deal with them. The Prussian minister at Washington, M. Konne, made proposals for a treaty of commerce with the German league, and the Ame- rican government sent Mr. Wheaton to Berlin to inquire into and report upon the advantages to be derived by the United Slates from such a treaty. The advantages appeared to be all on one side. The league had advantages to receive from America, but none to give which American trade did not already enjoy in Europe. Artificial restrictions from the nature of the social economy and of the system of government in Germany, as well as the physical circumstances of the extent of the land, the sameness of its main productions, and consequent want of articles of interchange, pre- vent the rise of a great home market in the country. It is not only each province and town, but each family, generally speaking, of the population, that is a separate existence producing for its own consumpt all it uses, doing everything within itself, supply- ing its own wants by its own work, and giving little employment comparatively to others. This state of social economy can only be altered, if it be for the happiness of a community to exchange it for a commercial or manufacturing prosperity, by time and a radical change in the autocratic principle and military arrange- ment of the continental governments. Its effects on the objects for which the German league is established are adverse. It admits of no home market for the products of manufacturing industry, sufficiently extensive to employ the manufacturing capi- tal and population. These are obliged to force a trade with the foreign consumer, for, small as they are comparatively, they pro- duce more than the home market requires. It is a forced and unnatural trade, because to manufacture for the Mediterranean, or South or North American markets, without shipping, seaports, or commerce, and to depend upon political events and contingen- cies, in which Germany has not from her situation on the globe the power, if she had the right, to interfere, for her access to markets, and to the supply of raw material, is not a safe, sound, natural position for the trade and manufactures of a country. It is here that the imaginative writers in Germany on this custom- 146 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. house union or commercial league mislead the public mind, and indulge in speculations and reveries altogether wild and imprac- ticable. They propose to constitute this league into an acknow- ledged political power in Europe, like the old Hanseatic league; to comprehend in it the old Hanstowns, Hamburg, Bremen, and Lubeck, and Belgium or Holland, or both, Hanover and Den- mark ; to have a fleet composed of the Dutch, and Danish, and Prussian ships of war, common revenues, a common flag ; to conclude treaties, colonize, and become one new, united, acknow- ledged European power.* The symbol always takes the place of the reality in the German mind ; and a flag has actually been devised for this power that is to be, and is even carried by some thirty or forty vessels, with all the quarterings, colours, and em- blems in it of all the powers from the Lake of Constance to the Baltic, who are joined in the German custom-house league. These newspaper dreams would be unworthy of notice, if they did not appear in a semi-official shape. The German newspapers are written for a very diflerent public from that of our papers — for the educated, the capitalist, and the functionary classes ; and being under censorship, either in their publication or in their admission to circulation by post, the political speculations which appear in them come with some degree of official authority. They are at least congenial to, if not the official expression of, the views of persons in power ; otherwise they would be sup- pressed either in the printing-house or the post-office. The go- vernments which exercise a censorship adopt as their own all that they permit to be published under their authority. These newspaper dreamers forget, in their political speculations, that the other European powers would tell the German powers united in the league, You are perfectly entitled to make such custom-house or commercial treaties between yourselves as regard your own interests; but when you raise fleets and armies and common revenues as one political power, you are disturbing the settled political balance of Europe ; you are either creating a new Euro- pean power on sea and land, in which your own political indi- viduality and existence are merged, and by which the existing political interests of other European powers are compromised, or you are increasing an existing power (Prussia, or Holland, or Denmark, or whatever the power may be which your league pro- * See the Augsburg Allgeraeine Zeitung; Septeraberj 1S41. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 147 poses to place at its head), to an extent not contemplated at the general settlement of Europe in 1815, by the Congress of Vienna ; and are giving an augmentation of power to that one state — by treaty, instead of by conquest, but equally an augmentation of power, offleets, armies, revenues, and in fact territorial and political power to that one state — dangerous to her neighbours, and which the policy of the other European powers cannot permit. What- ever the continental powers might do, England would not permit the consolidation of one new naval power on the high seas, with a sea front round the Baltic and North sea from the Russian to the French frontier, with a population of thirty millions behind, with common revenues, a common flag, and all the commercial and belligerent shipping and naval means of the Baltic and Ger- man oceans united, at the disposal of the new European power. It might suit the policy of Russia or France to favour the esta- blishment of such a naval power, but no English ministry would permit the monopoly of the whole seaward side of the north of Europe in the hands of any one power, either in th^e shape and under the name of a German league, or under the name of any existing power. Such a league would be political, not commer- cial, and could not exist under the present political arrangements of Europe. England would dissolve it by the simple practical measure of capturing every vessel on the high seas sailing under a flag not known and acknowledged in the European system. But the extension of the German league to such political ob- jects as the German politicians dream of, is counteracted by the nature of the league itself. . It is essentially commercial ; the manu- facturing greatness which it proposes to obtain for Germany being based, not upon the home consumption, but upon the foreign markets. But those states which, like Holland, Denmark, Ham- burg, Bremen, are altogether commercial also, have no advantage, but the contrary to advantage, from being joined to a league which, by its protective duties and its objects as a league, would limit the supply in their markets of the articles required in their commerce or which the stranger buys from their citizens, to those manu- factured within the league; and which articles, with the greater expense of land transport on them to their ports, would be dearer as assortments to ship to Asia or America, than similar articles from Belgium or England. It is not to be supposed that volun- tarily these commercial states would join the league, because it is 148 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. clearly not their interest to do so, and thereby to limit the supply of goods in their markets to one set of manufacturers, instead of having a competition on their own exchange from every manu- facturing .district in the world, to supply the demands of their commerce. Frankfort was coerced into a junction, clearly against her own interests as a free entrepot; but Frankfort had not aside open to the sea like Hamburg or Bremen, was surrounded by countries which had long exercised a right to levy duties on goods in transit to or from Frankfort, and it was a question rather of German than of European interest. But the political existence of the four free cities in the European system, Hamburg, Bre- men, Lubeck, and Frankfort, as independent states, was certainly given to them at the settlement of Europe by the Congress of Vienna, not in respect of their power or importance as states in the European system, but on the principle and understanding that these were to be free emporiums open to the trade of all countries on equal terms, and not to be shut up by any one power, or combination of powers, against the trade of all other powers. It was evidently to prevent this result that these ancient Hansea- tic towns were not incorporated with the adjoining states, but received an independent political existence. The coercion or accession of Fra,nkfort to the league is a manifest violation of the spirit and intent of the settlement of Europe by the Congress of Vienna, by which those Hanseatic markets were considered the free arena in which all European producers and consumers may meet, and buy, and sell, without partiality, control, or protecting duties in favour of one European pqwer more than another. Hamburg and Bremen are great mouths through which the com- merce of the world flows, and are of European and American, not, like Frankfort, of German importance only, and could not be shut up by other pov/ers, or even by their own power as a state, without a violation of the understood compact or principle on which alone they hold a political independent existence. Their own interests as commercial entrepots will always prevent those other states from voluntarily becoming parties in the league, and excluding all but German manufacturers from their markets ; and coercion cannot be applied to them as to Frankfort. They have allies directly interested in their commercial independence, and in the freedom of their markets, viz., the European and American states trading to their ports. As to the accession of Denmark, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 149 Hanover, Holland, or Belgium to the league, an insurmountable obstacle is the nationality of these countries, and their independ- ence, which would be sacrificed, as well as in the want of any interest to be promoted, or of any advantage to be gained as members of the league. These powers stand commercially with regard to the league in the same position as the United States of America, and would have no visible benefit from limiting theix commerce to the objects of the league, and placing themselves under the pupilage of the petty inland states of Germany in mat- ters of trade. The immense development of the consumpt of the British colo- nies and of the independent South American states since the last war, places England in a very different position of interests with the continent of P^urope from that.in which she stood when excluded by Buonaparte, by the Milan and Berlin decrees, from the conti- nental markets. She no longer depends on the European conti- nent for the consumpt of any vast proportion of the products of her manufacturing indtistry, while the Continent, manufacturing for her own and for over-sea markets, is becoming every day more and more politically dependent upon England for access to her supplies of raw materials, and to the markets for her manufactured goods. If political power, without regard to the principle of ex- isting political arrangements, were the object of a British govern- ment, the success of the German commercial league to the utmost extent of the most sanguine dreams of the German political writers on its results, would be the greatest accession to the political power of Britain over continental affairs that could be thrown into her lap. The whole of the material interests and productive industry of Germany united in one concern, and that one concern unable from its physical position to cross the ocean with its goods, or for its needful supplies of raw materials, but by the good will and sutlerance of that power which, from her physical position on the globe, commands all outlets and inlets, and holds the keys of the ocean, would form a preponderating British influence over Euro- pean affairs, increasing in political force exactly in proportion to the isolation of Great Britain. Suppose the extreme case, that the German commercial league could shut out British industry and capital altogether from the continental markets. Our export of goods to the north of Europe, to the amount at present, perhaps, of four or five millions sterling, would be reduced perhaps to a 150 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. smuggling trade of two or three millions ; and Britain having no longer any important national interest at stake in her continental trade, having lost it, whatever may have been its importance, would take that polhical position which her natural position gives her; and when the united industry and capital of Germany were markets and supplies, and concluding treaties and equipping fleets consolidated into one new political power depending upon over-sea as an independent European power, like the Hanseatic league of old, Britain would demand a state of peace or a state of war with this new power, free access to markets, or the retaliation of shut- ting the sea doors of this new power with a few steamers. And who could say to her, Nay ? Britain would be justified on princi- ple. War against a commercial country does not consist merely in acts of violence and aggression on persons and property, but in acts of legislation and commercial arrangement more injurious to her interests than a war would be ; and therefore an English government would encounter a war, rather than endure a peace insidiously concealing all the evils of war in its effects. This would be the position of the British government with the German commercial league, supposing the wild and extravagant ideas of the German political writers on its results were realized: England being totally, and it is to be hoped finally, separated from all Hanoverian considerations or influences, stands on very different ground from her former position in her political negotiations, and would look only and entirely to British interests. But there are obstacles arising from the social condition of Ger- many itself, which will prevent even the sober, rational, and every way, and for every country, beneficial objects of the German commercial league from being attained for ages. These deserve consideration, for they proceed from arrangements in social and political economy altogether different from ours, and but little known to us. The dreams of German fleets and armies, and an united German nation, we may leave to the visionary politics which occupy the German newspaper writers from the want of real affairs to think of, or of freedom to discuss the real. In every country the home market is the great and steady basis of its manufacturing prosperity. Commerce itself, if it be not founded on a home consumpt, if it be merely a carrying trade between distant producers and distant consumers, has proved itself, as in the Hanstowns, in Genoa, Venice, Holland, to be mi- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 151 Stable, evanescent, and unattended with any well-being or im- provement in the condition of the mass of the people. With all the colonies and commerce of England, her immense commercial capital, her unrivaled facilities for shipping and trade, her position in the ocean, and her free institutions open to all the trading capi- talists of the world, political economists tell us that more than two-thirds of our industrial products, not including agricultural products, but actually two-thirds of our manufactures, are used in our home consumpt, and one-third only is exported. In the agitation of the corn law question many different estimates, or conjectures, have been given of the amount and value of our foreign compared to our home market, according to the political views of the writers. In one point all the discordant statements agree — that the export trade is but the overflowings of the cup of our in- dustrial production, its fullness is all within its own rim. The late Mr. Macqueen, a statistical writer of no ordinary talent and industry, has given a detailed conjecture on the value of the goods produced and exported in 1834, viz. — *' Cotton goods Woolen goods Linen goods Silk goods - Leather goods Value of Goods produced. Value of Goods exported. £52,213,586 £20,513,586 44,250,000 3,736,871 15,421,186 2,579.655 13,425,510 637,013 18,000,000 248.302 Total £143,610,282 £29,715.430 Of clothing materials, which are the main articles on which manufacturing labour is employed, it would appear from this view that about four-fifths of the ])roducts of our manufacturing industry are consumed in our home market, and one-fifth only is exported to the foreign market, including our colonial market. Of other manufactured articles produced and exported in 1834 this estimate gives us of — Iron, cutlery, hardware, &c. Ikass and copper wares Wood, cabinet-work wares, paper, &c. Total and thus the home market for these exceeds still more the pro- Value of Goods produced. £38,170,600 Value of Goods e.xporled. £2,269,437 4,900,160 961,809 14,000,000 377.911 £.57,070,792 .Ll.-Jn9,ISl 152 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. portion consumed in the foreign market. According to the same political economist, the producing capital of Great Britain in 1836 was, of agricultural 3,258,910,810/.; of manufactural 178,404,- 278/.; of which only 16,381,322/. was employed in the produc- tion of manufactured goods for the foreign market. Such estimates or guesses are, in fact, but vague dreams, and often worse than dreams, because they come clothed in the garb of reality to support or demolish some theory. What can be more preposterous than to state such sums with an eight or ten pounds sterling at their tails, as if such matters could be ascer- tained as exactly as the amount of your tailor's bill ? This taste among statistical writers and political economists is reprehensible, because it imposes on weak minds, and gives an air of exactness to what is entitled to no such character. An approximation to amounts proportional to the exact is all that can be given or taken in such estimates. We may take from this view of our home market, be it correct to the exact proportion or not, that a people must be great consumers, as well as great producers, to be a great manufacturing people, and to attain to any great national wealth. There must be at home an exchange of industry for industry, a circulation of production and consumpt through every pore of the social body itself. What is merely exhaled and thrown off in export is not sufficient to keep up a healthy movement in a munufacturing nation. The German league comprehends above twenty-six millions of people ; and if we only look at the numbers and at the extent and fertility of the soil they occupy, they should be buyers in their home market of manufacturing industry, one would sup- pose, as extensively at least as our British twenty-four millions. But here we see the immense difference produced by a different social economy. These twenty-six millions consume less of each other's industry, employ less, buy less, sell less, than four millions of our population. In our social system every man buys all he uses, and sells all he produces ; there is a perpetual exchange of industry for industry. A home-spun and home-woven shirt, jacket, and trowsers, would certainly not be found with us upon the body of one labouring man in forty thousand. All he wears, all he eats, all he drinks, must be produced for him by the industry of others, and bought by the price of his own industry. The very bread of our labourers in husbandry is often bought at the manufac- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 153 turer's shop. In Germany the economy of society is directly the reverse; not one labouring man, farmer, or tradesman pretty high up even in the middle class of the small towns, uses in clothing, food, furniture, what is not produced at home by his own family. In the centre even of German manufacturing in- dustry, in the provinces on the Rhine, you will not see among twenty labouring people the value of twenty shillings altogether in clothing articles not produced at home by the application of their own time, labour, and industry. They are not badly clothed, but on the contrary, as well, if not better, than our own labourers — in very good shirts, good jackets, trowscrs, stockings, shoes, and caps; but all home-made, or at the utmost village-made — not made by a class of manufacturers doing no other work, and bought with the wearer's money. These are not consumers for whose demands the operative labours, and the master manufac- turer and mechanician invent, calculate, and combine. Tobacco, coffee, sugar, wine, and spirits, cotton yarns for home weaving, and dye-stuffs for home-made cloth, take a large proportion of what these twenty-six millions of people have to expend in foreign articles. It is little, comparatively, they have to expend, because much of their time and labour is applied to the direct production and manufacturing of what they use ; much, a great deal more than with us, goes in eating, drinking, cooking, social enjoyment, and in fuel preparing, and such small household work in which there are no earnings or reproduction ; and, above all, much of the workman's means of earning, much of his time, labour, and pro- ductiveness, is taken by the government in the shape of military and other duties from the working man. The small proprietors occupying and living from the land have no surplus earnings to lay out in products of manufacturing industry. Having the rude necessaries of life very much within themselves, they are not forced into the market by any necessity; and being bred in the rough simplicity of the connnon soldier's life at the age when a man's tastes and habits are forming, they have no very refined indulgences or tastes to gratify, no habits or usages of a mode of living requiring the aid of much manufacturing industry. It is more dillicult, perhaps, to bring a nation to consume, than to pro- duce. It is the opinion of some of our most eminent political econo- mists, of Mr. Jacob, Dr. Bowring, and other able writers, wiio 11 154 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. have enjoyed the best opportunities of becoming correctly and officially acquainted with the state of the Continent, and from whose opinions, therefore, the ordinary traveller dissents with great diffidence, that the abolition of our corn laws will make these twenty-six millions of people whose industrial product, corn, we would purchase, become in return great consumers of our in- dustrial product — manufactured goods. This is a delusion of these distinguished political economists, arising from their apply- ing ideas taken from our English social economy, state of pro- perty and of labour, to a state and system of society existing on totally different principles. The mass of those twenty-six mil- Hons having, each family within itself, land, labour, leisure, and the inveterate custom to provide their own food, clothing, neces- saries, and luxuries by their own work, and being moreover during the winter half-year under the physical impossibility of doing any regular out-door agricultural work, would spin, weave, and clothe themselves by their own household industry as before, and buy no more of our manufactures than they do now. A change in those habits of a people which are rooted in their social economy, in the distribution of their property, the occupa- tion of their soil, the nature of their country and climate, the in- stitutions and arrangements of their governments, cannot be pro- duced by any influences from without. A very small proportion, also, of the corn exported from Germany to the British marliet is, by Mr. Jacob's own account, the produce of those German pro- vinces which are manufacturing countries, or have any physical capability of ever becoming so. The provinces and countries on the Rhine, Westphalia, and also Saxon Prussia, and Silesia, send us little or no corn ; and owing to the want of cross-country roads, a considerable demand for grain for shipment in one quarter affects but slightly the value of grain at a very small distance beyond. It is quite unreasonable to suppose that they would take our manufactures to the prejudice of their own, because we take corn from the banks of the Vistula ; a country with which they have no natural community of interests ; with which they have no connectionj unless on paper — on the state paper, in which they are handed over to the same crown, — and with which they have actually less intercourse than we have ourselves. These distinguished political economists err here, by applying English ideas of the community of interests which exists in our small land NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 155 bound up into one whole by the rapidity and freedom of commu- nication over it, and which makes the sacrifice of the interests of a part to the general good a clear and acknowledged benefit, to countries of such vast extent, and with such httle communication, and so few objects of mutual supply of interchange, that the parts are separate existences physically and politically. The parts of the Prussian empire have less community of interests, less inter- course with each other, are less cemented together into a whole, than Bengal and Middlesex. Quebec and Greenock are much more united parts of one social whole, as members of one empire, than Danzick and Cologne. It would be sacrificing one part to another part, and not to a whole, to apply to their political eco- nomy a principle which is quite good in our compact city-like empire. If it were the true interest of Prussia, which it is not, to sacrifice her richest and most improving provinces on the Rhine with manufacturing capabilities, capital, and enterprise, to her poor agricultural provinces on the Baltic, her government would not have the power to do so. Her Rhenish and West- phalian provinces are not only wealthy and manufacturing ; they are liberal, and hang but very loosely to the autocratic principle of the Prussian government. They retained, when they were handed over to Prussia, their former laws and law courts — the Code Napoleon, Code de Commerce, Code de Procedure Civile, Code Criminel — and have nothing in their laws' or courts in com- mon with the rest of Prussia ; suffered no revival or intrusion of the old feudal or the Prussian jurisprudence and tribunals, and have very clearly indicated that they would not suffer it. They have shown, in their support of the Catholic Bishop of Cologne arising evidently not from a blind spirit of flinaticism, but from a spirit of opposition to despotic sway, that they are not a popula- tion to be governed, like military serfs, by the will or caprice of a cabinet. It is from this population, of about 4,000,000 that the impulse has been given to the great movement of the German people in the German league. They arc in no way interested in the corn trade to England, nor would they suffer their material interests and manufacturers to be sacrificed to the trade of Dan- zick, and to the agricultural interests of the old or new Prussian provinces on the Baltic. They have France at their elbow. Bavaria, Wirtenburg, Saxony, Hesse, and the other states joined in the league, have also no interest whatever in such a reciprocity 156 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. as receiving our manufactured goods on a low duty, if we take corn on a low duty from the Polish provinces of Prussia, with which they have no cannection. Their joint population equals that of Prussia ; and in the affairs of the league, each has a voice ^qual to that of Prussia. Prussia is bound to common measures with the other states of the league, and could not enter into such a reciprocity with us without abandoning the league she has formed, and abandoning the interests of her own manufacturing provinces on the Rhine, which, with France at their elbow, with French laws and French ideas on civil and political rights, and constitutional representation of the people, are not to be treated despotically in arrangements touching their material interests. Mr. Jacob, Dr. Bowring, or whoever holds out this argument or inducement for the abolition of our corn laws, must have heard ill, or from incompetent authority, that such a reciprocity ever would have been listened to for a moment by the powers en- gaged in the German league, or that the Prussian government, even if not bound to common measures with them, would find it her interest to adopt such a reciprocity, were it in her power to adopt it, to the injury, real or supposed, of her own manufactu- ring Rhenish, Westphalian, and Saxon provinces. If a manufacturing interest and spirit can be diff'used over Ger- many, it must be founded on a consuming population at home, as well as on a body of producers and capitalists; and all Europe would then be in a more sound social condition. Such a popula- tion would even be better customers to British industry, more ready to exchange industry for industry with us, and more able to do so, than the present agricultural, self-supplying, or non- consuming population. But this change from non-consuming to consuming habits is opposed in its growth by the very govern- ments which are the most anxious to establish a flourishing indus- trial interest in Germany. They would have the fruit, without the tree on which it grows. The military system of the German governments engenders a spirit of interference, not only with the labouring class of the community, preventing the free circulation of labour, and the acquisition of steady, expert, quick-working habits, but with all circulation, business, and employment. It enters into, and attempts to direct all industrial action. The capitalist and his operatives work as in a barrack yard, under the eye, influence, and superintendence of government functionaries. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 157 As an instance of this kind of interference, even in manufacturing Prussia, if a master manufacturer or wholesale dealer has to send a box or parcel to a customer or shop-keeper at a distance, he cannot choose the cheapest way by a carrier taking goods along the road at the lowest rate to which a free and open competition can bring down the expense of carriage : government thinks proper to be the universal parcel carrier as well as letter carrier, and to monopolize this branch of industry. Plis parcel must be inspected, valued, packed, and sealed to the satisfaction of the public functionary, and in his presence ; and the formalities, loss of time, and interference, are such as no free competition trade can exist under, and no home market, and habits of exchanging industry for industry among the people, can grow up under. Dr. Nebenius, a great statistical authority, reckons,* or rather guesses from such imperfect data as the subject affords, that the yearly consumption of woollen goods per head of the individuals within the German league, is a-bout forty per cent, less than that of each individual, on an average, in the British population ; and of cotton, he reckons the home consumption of England and Scotland at sixty-four millions of pounds weight, and of the popu- lation of the whole German union, which is greater by seven or eight millions than that of the island of Great Britain, at five millions and a quarter. Another great statistical authority, M. Dieterici, estimates that in Prussia, certainly the most consuming portion of the population within the league, the consumption of each person, on an average, of woollen cloth yearly, is 1-56 yard ; and in the United Kingdom, on the same data, 4-2 yards : and of cotton twist consumed in the Union in 1S3G, the quantity was forty-nine millions pounds; and two hundred and fifty-three millions in the United Kingdom. But in comparing the respect- ive consumption of the two masses of population, these distin- guished political economists overlook the most important clement in it, viz., the amount of industry, and of the exchange of indus- try for industry, which this consumption of clothing, or clothing material, be it greater or less than they so vaguely guess, brings into movement among these two masses of population. In our mass of population, every pound weight of this wool, or cotton, or cotton twist, every yard of this cloth, sets agoing, 1st, an indus- * Der Deutsche Zollverein, sein System und seine Zukunft. Von Dr. C. J. Nebenius. Carlsruhe, 1835. 158 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. try or capital to grow it, or bring it home from the grower; Sdly, an industry or capital to manufacture it, to prepare it for use, and bring it to market for sale ; 3dly, an industry or capital to earn the means, by producing and selling its own products, to buy it for wearing apparel. In our social economy, everything that man uses sets agoing these three industries. But in the social economy of Germany, the grower of the wool, or the first buyer of the cotton twist, is himself, very generally, the manufacturer and the consumer also. The same labour and time, or probably a great deal more, may have been employed by him and his household in bringing the raw material into the state of cloth, as if it had been spun, woven, and dyed by the different classes of manufacturers who prepare cloth with us, and had come into the village shop through all the intermediate ramifications of employ- ment which vivify a home market. But there has been no ex- change of industry for industry in this state of social economy among the mass of a population ; no reciprocal employment, no mutual and civilizing working of individuals for each other's wants, in this process of bringing the wool from the sheep's back, and putting it upon the back of the German peasant in the shape of a home-made cloth coat, compared to that produced in the process of putting a new coat upon one of our labouring men, who, of necessity, and by the nature of our social economy must buy all he wants, and sell all he produces ; must exchange indus- try for industry, and who spends not an hour of his life in pro- ducing for his own consumption. Until such a home market is gradually raised, it is a dangerous speculation in social economy to call into existence a body of operatives, and an industrial inte- rest, depending almost altogether upon a foreign demand. This can do no more than raise in a few districts a sickly manufacturing industry fostered with custom-house care, and depending upon a foreign market ; until at last a great body of operatives is reared, who, having no real home consumption for the products of their industry to fall back upon, and no hired agricultural labour, or temporary job-work in other employments, or free access to other trades or localities than their own to fall back upon, and no colo- nies or standing army to absorb them, will be reduced to unex- ampled distress, in the event of war intercepting the transport of their manufactured goods to the foreign market, or of their regular supply, from over sea, of the raw materials ; or if the abolition of NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 159 the English corn laws should, as expected, deluge all markets with goods still more cheaply produced by England than at pre- sent. Germany manufactures for the foreign market only by sufferance from political contingencies over which she has no control. What would, for instance, be the condition of the work- ing population in the cotton factories of Prussia, Saxony, or Swit- zerland, in the event of a war between England and the United States, or England and France? Their supplies of raw material would be suddenly arrested by the blockade of the ports from which they come, or by which they enter. This mass of manu- facturing population would at once be thrown out of employment, without a refuge at home or abroad from utter destitution. It is evidently a false policy for the States of the German league, to call into existence a mass of manufacturing population depending for bread upon the foreign markets for their products ; which markets are altogether beyond their power or political influence, and may be cut oft' by any naval belligerent, without their having the means to prevent it, or even the right to complain. If the German commercial league propose to raise a home market in Germany itself, the habits of the people, the restraints upon their perfect freedom of action, the military organization of the country must be altered. The whole social system will have to be altered ; the armies of civil functionaries, together with almost all their duties, abolished ; and society left to itself by the German governments, to the uncontrolled, untrammelled use of time, property, and individual action, as in the United States, in England, in Switzerland, in every country that has made any advance in national prosperity. A change so entire in the social economy of a people cannot be effected in a generation or two. Germany now, as a country only beginning to have commerce and industry, and to leave the simple state of every family enjoy- ing a rough plenty, but producing almost all it consumes within itself, is standing on nearly the same point as England did in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Then, in England, as now in Ger- many, every family in the middle or lower classes was employed in spinning, weaving, manufacturing for itself, baking, brewing pickling, preserving, for its own consumption. It has taken three centuries to bring the British population to that social economy in which every man exchanges industry for industry, and a vast home market exists for all production. It may be doubted, how- 160 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ever much England has gained in national or individual wealth, whether her population Tias gained in well-being and social happi- ness by the change. Her operative manufacturing population called into existence by it, although only one-fifth of their numbers are supposed to be employed in supplying the foreign market, are plunged sufficiently often into the deepest distress by the ordinary vicissitudes of the home market, to make reflecting men pause, and ask if this be prosperity ? if national wealth, or the power of a state in its financial means ; if the individual enjoyriient of the luxuries and gratifications which this wealth bestows on one rich class, be worth the amount of human misery and vice accompany- ing it? But to attempt to skip over a home market for a manu- facturing population to fall back upon, and to call into existence prematurely a mass of operatives depending entirely upon a foreign market, cannot be wise policy. The first gust of war will sweep the whole fabric from the face of the earth. The German com- mercial league will have to study the career of England more carefully, and not begin at the wrong end, at establishing a foreign market, before she has a home market for her productive industry. Many regard the German commercial league as inimical to British interests. This view is as erroneous as it is narrow. The richer our neighbours become, the better customers they are to us. The German commercial league has been in full operation, since 1833, over a population of 25,608,864 individuals. If we look at its practical effects upon British industry and commerce, since and before that date, we are warranted in the conclusion, that the wealthier and the more industrious our neighbours become, the better customers they are in the world's markets, in supplying which British industry and capital are embarked. Every chandler comes to a similar conclusion on the little circle of customers in the alley in which his shop is situated, and believes that his trade will increase just in proportion as his neighbours thrive. In 1829, four years before the full operation of the German com- mercial league, the declared value of British produce and manu- factures exported from the United Kingdom to Germany, was £4,662,566 As Holland and Belgium take British goods which pass ultimately into Germany, we add the value exported to those countries in the same year, viz. ...... 2,050,014 The 25,000,000 of our German customers bought in 1829 to the ) £g 7,0 580 value of - - - - - - - i ' ' NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 161 In 1837, four years after the same epoch of 1833, the declared value of our goods exported to Germany was - - £5,029.552 And to Belgium and Holland together - - - 3,844,946 So that our 25,000,000 of Gerijian customers bought for - £8,874,498 after four years' thriving, and growing rich, and consuming, by their commercial league. In 1S39, six years after the estabUsh- ment of the league, with all its protections of German industry, the declared value of British produce and manufactures export- ed to Germany was 5,422,021/.; and to Belgium and Holland, 4,445,623/., being together 9,867,644/., or an increase of about one- third since 1829, or of about one-eighth since 1837. But in what produce or manufactures of Britain has this increasing sale to Germans been ? in raw goods to be manufactured by their indus- try, or in manufactures which have received the last finish from British industry ? Let us see. In 1829 the declared value of woollen manufactures, exclusive of yarns, exported to Germany, was 613,812/. ; in 1837 it was 725,699/. ; in 1839 it was 817,250/. Now wool itself is a German product. The raw material is in the country ; and although, no doubt, the manufacture of it is improving and extending, the consumption and demand for what we manufacture are also extending. The home market of Ger- many is not fully supplied by her own home industry with all she consumes of an article grown at home. In cotton manufac- tures there is a greater difference, but none of important magni- tude, between the kinds and quantities exported to Germany before and after the full establishment of the German commercial league. In 1829 the number of yards of woven cotton goods exported from Britain to Germany was 41,037,377 yards; in 1837 the number was 43,171,229 yards ; in 1839 the number was 38,- 910,025 yards. In the ten years from 1829 and 1839 inclusive, the quantity of woven cotton cloths exported each year has ex- ceeded the quantity of 1829, excepting in three years, 1836, 1838, and 1839 ; and the excess has been as much as ten millions of yards, as in 1832 and 1834, while the dimiimtion of export, as in 1836,.has never been more than three and a half millions. These appear, therefore, to be the ordinary fluctuations of trade in a steadily increasing market, viewed through a series of years, for our woven cotton manufactures. For our spun but not woven cotton manufactures, our cotton twist, the demand undoubtedly 162 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. seems increased. In 1829 the number of pounds weight of yarns exported to Germany from the United Kingdom was 24,098,301 lbs.; in 1837 it was 34,277,531 lbs.; in 1839 it was 38,712,355 lbs. There appears in the ten years, 1829, 1839, a steadily in- creasing export of cotton twist which has only employed British industry in the first stage of its manufacture, viz., in the spinning, and is woven by the German manufacturer. But it is a great mistake to imagine that this British cotton twist goes altogether to the weaving factories of foreign manufacturers, who re-export it, or bring it to market in competition with British woven cotton goods. A great proportion of it is for the family weaving of the people themselves into mixed cloths and stuffs for household use; by which the peasant finds a saving of the saleable products, flax and wool, from which alone he formerly manufactured all his family clothing, sheets, and household stuffs. The British demand for fine wool and for flax from the Continent, to be re-exported in cloth or yarns, necessarily causes a vacuity in the mass of the former clothing materials of the Continent, which is filled up by cotton yarn from England. The legislators and political economists who labour under the monopolist's ague, and shake at the idea of our neighbours grow- ing rich as well as ourselves by manufacturing industry, may see, even from this statement, that the richer they grow the better for us. They do not burn or bury their wealth. They lay it out ; those who get it lay it out again. It goes round and round, aug- menting the means and industry of men, widening the markets of the world, increasing the number of producers and consumers, and the wealth of all. A flourishing industrial interest upon a stable foundation among twenty-six millions of German people, would be the most import- ant advance ever made in modern society ; and would be a bond of peace secured by the people themselves on the very theatre which their rulers have deluged with blood for eighteen centuries. It would be a singular circumstance if the sword of war should be wrested from the hands of autocratic sovereigns by this union of the continental people for their material interests. It is not anticipating too much from it to believe that irresponsible cabi- nets, governments without a constitution, monarchs without a check, military interference in private civil affairs, restraint on free agency and industry, and a want of legislative representa- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 163 tion, cannot exist by the side of sucli an interest. It is even now a mass of power in the hands of the people, which must be re- presented. The whole policy of the Prussian government is singularly at variance with the natural and obvious tendency of the German commercial league. To delay, to avoid, to refuse any representation of the people in the legislation of the country, yet to plant and foster an interest which, if it is to prosper at all, must have a voice in public affairs ; to establish a military system inconsistent with the manufacturing industry of the working class, a system of functionarism adverse to the application of the middle class to the arts of industry for their living^ a system of interfer- ence and surveillance inconsistent with the free development of the capital, enterprise, and mind of the wealthier class, are con- tradictions in policy only to be accounted for by supposing that the Prussian government did not foresee that the league was to be- come of such importance — was to be, what it now is, the union point of the German people ; and had not considered that this new state power in Germany, as it may be called, must neces- sarily extinguish the military principle of the sole irresponsible government of the monarch. The great errror, at present, of the Germans with regard to the commercial league, is that before alluded to — that they are looking too much to the results of a foreign trade, and overlooking too much the necessity of a previously formed home market and con- sumption. The branches of the national prosperity of England which naturally strike the eye of a foreigner are her ships, colo- nies, and commerce. He forgets, or does not see, that these are but the overflowings of a well of industrial wealth, which has its main springs at home. These are but the leaves and flowers of a tree which is rooted in her home social economy. The perfect freedom of circulation of industry in Britain, the consuming and producing habits of the people among themselves, the Macadam- ized roads to every village, the total absence of any restriction upon the internal communications and movements of man or goods, have, in the course of ages, raised a social economy in which every man exchanges industry for industry with his neighbours, is a producer and a consumer in a vast home market. If we look at Germany at present, even in the most advanced districts, how far behind is she in all these essential foundations of national pros- perity ! The common man cannot move from village to village 164 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. in prosecution of his trade, or in search of work, without leave and license ; cannot open a shop, or exercise a business in many- parts of the Continent, or transport himself and his goods where or how he will, cannot produce, and cannot consume, but under au- thority and leave. In the neighbourhood even of such great seats of commercial wealth as Hamburgh, Frankfort, Leipsic, the cross- country roads are scarcely passable, although leading to consider- able masses of population. You see no carriers' carts or wagons conveying goods from the producers to the consumers. In the villages, you see the people in wooden shoes, in home-made woUen, cotton, or Unen clothing : and in the small town shops, you see either the raw unwrought articles for the family consump- tion or home manufacture of the labouring class, such as coffee, sugar, tobacco, dye stuffs, yarns ; or you see gilded ornaments, prints, mirrors, and such expensive articles for the highest class. You see nothing that betokens a great consuming middle class, or a great consuming labouring class buying every article they con- sume, fully prepared for their use, and selling all the product of their own time and labour to supply themselves with all they want. In such considerable towns, even in the most fertile parts of Germany, as Gotha, Dessau, Wittenburg, you see no indication of a great consuming class, or of a great interchange of industry for industry among the mass of the people. In Frankfort and Leipsic, even out of fair-time, you see, no doubt, proofs of great commercial wealth, of many hundreds of great capitalists dwell- ing there with their equipages and attendants ; but they dwell there like the English at a watering place, altogether uninfluen- tially, except to the extent of the expenditure of their incomes, upon the industry and prosperity of the mass of the population around them. They merely transmit, they do not produce, and employ but little labour, except it may be in transport, at parti- cular seasons. This commercial prosperity, as in Holland, Venice, and in the Hans Towns, may be very great, without adding very greatly to the well-being, industry, or national wealth of the com- munity. It is to this commercial prosperity, not to industrial pros- perity, that the attention of the Germans is directed at the present moment, in their expectations from the commercial league. Thqy seem in general to have the idea that national wealth consists in the number of great capitalists in a country, and not in the productive industry of the people ; and that if by foreign trade they can facil- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 165 itate the augmentation of the number of great capitalists, they shall have attained great national prosperity. But great capital, either in the hands of a few or of many, must, in any sound state of social economy, be the effects, the products, of the productive industry of the people, and actmg as a cause as well as an effect of that industry. If it be not founded on this basis, it adds little or nothing to the real prosperity or national wealth of the coun- try. Baron Rothschild, probably in the course of a year, passes through his hands on the Exchange of Frankfort, as large an amount of capital as the town and its territory would sell for ; but this adds nothing to the national wealth or prosperity of Frank- fort. It employs no industry but the postman's. The manufac- turer, on the smallest scale, in an English town, who is every hour producing, and selling, and transporting, and every year calling into existence new habitations, new villages, new com- munications, new roads, devising new outlets, adopting new operations in his works, giving new employment to his workmen, is adding much more to the national wealth with comparatively very small capital. The Germans wish to begin building their house from the top downwards, instead of from the foundation upwards. The railroads, from which the Germans promise themselves exaggerated and imaginary advantages, belong to the objects for which Germany perhaps is not yet ripe as an industrial commu- nity. All her cross-country roads, and a great portion of her main roads between her most important cities, are in a wretched state, scarcely passable, and roads are altogether wanting through dis- tricts where roads should be. The extent of the country is itself a natural impediment to the multiplication and goodness of roads. The difficulties thrown in the way of communication from place to place by the passport system, and the town-duty system, and the monopoly by the governments in a great part of Germany of posting trade, coaching trade, parcel carrying trade, in short of all transport over the roads, reduce all internal traffic to the mini- mum amount with which society can exist. It is of little import- ance to get from Frankfort to Mayence, or from Leipsic to Dres- den, on a railroad, if all the veins and arteries which should feed this railroad are shut up, and choked with mire and sand. The want of roads, and of free traffic and competition on such roads as are, will long retard any considerable development of industry 166 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. in Germany, and the formation of that home market, that mutual exchange among men of the products of their industry, which exists from the faciUty and cheapness of transport and supply. Railroads may even do more harm than good, in the present state of Germany, to her industrial progress in general, by absorbing that capital of governments, or individuals, which would have been applied, with more advantage, to improving the old main roads, and opening up new ; to laying that foundation of trans- port and communication through every district of a country, upon which alone, commercially speaking, railroads can subsist. A railroad is like a horse, very profitable and enriching to the indi- vidual who keeps him, provided there is plenty of productive labour for the horse to do ; but very unprofitable, and impoverish- ing, if the individual has no work for his horse but to drive about on him for curiosity or pleasure. It is still an undetermined question whether railroads can be used with advantage for the conveyance generally of goods. Such valuable goods in small compass, as may be sent from Manchester to Liverpool, or from Birmingham to London, afford no rule to judge by, the cost of carriage being trifling compared to the value of the package. But can the manufacturer not seated immediately on a railroad, transport his coals, his bricks, his lime, his timber, his iron, and all his bulky machinery and raw materials, with advantage on railroads ? He is seldom in a pressing hurry for these, but sees beforehand for some time what he wants of such materials or means, so that speed in their transport is no object, but cheap- ness is ; and if the railroad cannot transport them cheaper, he will prefer the common road, because he has no reloading them to bring them to the spot where they are required. This practical question is not yet determined in England ; but evidently the railroad can only aid, and not supersede the use of good roads ; and is itself comparatively valueless to a country, unless it is fed by a system of good roads all around, and free trade and compe- tition of transport on them. The most enlightened commercial men you meet with in Germany seem not a little fanciful in talk- ing of the vast commerce, and industrial prosperity, to be founded on railroad communications. The transport of passengers on their pleasure tours in summer, and to and from the watering places, is the only business at present on the railroads; and how- ever useful and profitable to the shareholders the amount of this NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 167 transport may be— and from the nature of the country, the Ger- man railroads have cost the shareholders very little, compared to the usual expense of construction — it adds but little to the internal trade and industry of the country in general, or even of the towns it runs through. It is not, as in England with her railroads, an addition to the facilities which harbours, docks, shipping, a net- work of admirable main and cross-country roads spread over the land, and an unrestricted unquestionable freedom of movement on them for man and goods, give to industry ; but here the rail- road is to be a substitute for, instead of an addition to, all these preliminary steps to a high national state of industry and wealth. This will end in disappointment ; and the rational and attainable objects of the German commercial league, the supply of their own wants by their own industry in the first place, be defeated by straining after objects not attainable — such as a great manufac- turing for a foreign trade, without sea-ports, shipping, or secure access to the foreign markets — and not desirable, if attainable by forced efi'orts and encouragement, until they spring naturally from the overflowings of a great home market for the products of their manufacturing industry. It is by raising the condition of the people— their civil and po- litical condition, by removing all the trammels of the military and functionary system upon their personal freedom of action and industry, and by the establishment not only of roads, but of free transport and competition of individual industry on them without any kind of government interference, that the true objects of the German league must be obtained. A hundred Frankforts or Leipsics in Germany would not spread wealth and national pros- perity ; for look at the country a couple of miles from the gates of either of these cities, and you find the roads as impassable, the country people as non-consuming and non-exchanging, and in- dustry as dead, as if these cities had no existence. It is a change in the social economy of Germany that is needed, more than an increase of her class of capitalists. If they arc already driven to manufacture for the foreign consumer, before the home consumers are half supplied with what they might consume, it is clear there is something unsound in the project of beginning to build the national prosperity of Germany under the commercial league, upon a basis which is without and not within the country. Such a change in the social economy of 26 millions of people who have 168 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. but one principle at present in common — that of producing as much of what they consume individually, by their own time and labour, and buying as Kttle of it as possible, — is not to be accom- plished suddenly. It must be the gradual operation of time, of unrestricted intercourse among men, and of civil and political liberty, as it has been in England. The German commercial league, if carried on with the haste, and to the extent, and for the objects which the excited minds of even prudent people in Ger- many call for, and are eager to rush into, will prove a delusion as ruinous as the Mississippi scheme, as devoid of any solid basis, and which the first blast of war will dissolve. According to every true German, the league is to be the grand restorer of nationality to Germany, of national character, of na- tional mind, national greatness, national everything, to a new, regenerated German nation. They are to spin and weave them- selves into national spirit, patriotism, and united eifort as one great people. They are to have colonies, if a continent can be disco- vered for them to colonize— an independent flag for their commer- cial league, if the naval powers agree to recognize a nonentity as an effective neutral power on the high seas — and a navy, too, if the Rhine would breed seaman, and Cologne build ships of the line, instead of a dozen or two of river barges. These are inno- cent evaporations of a foggy atmosphere of mind often found among Germans, through which small things appear great, and ideas are taken for realities. Yet the most sensible of the news- paper editors of Germany lend their columns to such day-dreams. The stern reality amidst these childish fancies of the German patriots who ever look to the ideal future, and never to the real present, is, that at no period in modern history have the civil rights and free agency of men in their moral, religious, and in- dustrial relations been more entirely set aside in Germany — at no period have their time and labour been taken from them by go- vernments and local authorities so uselessly and unreproductively for the people, as since the conclusion of the last war. While all that forms the spirit, independent feeling, and moral existence of a nation, and all that forms the wealth and industrial pros- perity of a nation, are kept down by military organization and interference by edictal law, regulations, and functionarism, to a kind of Chinese state of society, German writers dream of na- tional independence, national spirit, national action in European NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 169 affairs, for the German population. The emancipated negro popu- lation in our West India colonies enjoy in reality more civil and political rights, more free agency, as moral beings, in their reli- gious, social, and domestic relations — have their time and labour more entirely to themselves, and at their own free disposal with- out the interference of government through its civil or military functionaries, than the great mass of the labouring class in Ger- many. The German commercial league may produce a decided alteration in this abject social state ; but it begins at the wrong end with its renovation of Germany, if it only encourages the increase of a body of commercial or manufacturing capitalists, on the one hand, supplying the foreign consumer, and a mass of help- less operatives, on the other hand, thrown into misery whenever the foreign consumer cannot or will not take the usual supplies ; and does not begin with laying a sound foundation for a home German market and home consurnpt for German production, by setting free the industry of the people, and by abolishing the mili- tary restraints on their free agency and productive powers. There are good seeds sown by this great movement. It is a powerful demonstration of the will of the people for a common object, and of the people of capital and experience — of the weightiest people of a society. It can only fail of attaining the object, of raising German industry and well-being, by aiming at such an imprac- ticable object as that of making the league an acknowledged po- litical power, and by such impracticable means as that of getting a flag, a fleet, colonies, and all the idle fancies which scholars and newspaper writers pin upon the one wise and attainable object of the league — the raising a home market for industry first, and a foreign market afterwards as a secondary outlet for the products of a manufacturing body of operatives. 12 CHAPTER VI. NOTES ON THE PRUSSIAN EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM.— ITS EFFECTS ON THE MORAL CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE. The educational system of Prussia is admirable — admirable as a machinery by which schools, schoolmasters, superintendence of them, checks, rewards both for the taught and the teachers, and in a word education — that word being taken in the meaning of the means of conveying certain very useful acquirements to every class of society, and to every capacity of individuals — are diffused over the country, and by law brought into operation upon every human being in it. The machinery for national education is un- doubtedly very perfect. The military organization of the whole population, and the habitual interference of government in all the doings and concerns of every individual — his very outgoing and incoming being, from the nature of his military service, mat- ter of leave, license, superintendence, and passport— make it as easy to establish an admirable system and regulation in every object government undertakes throughout the kingdom as in a barrack yard. But great statesmen and politicians, especially of the mihtary and nobility,. who see only one class or one side, of society, are very apt to mistake the perfection of the means for the perfection of the end. The mistake is common with our own parliamentary philosophers. An admirable machinery is constructed, which with its various and well-considered regula- tions and checks improved on perhaps by the experience and ingenuity of successive generations, is in reality a masterpiece of human wisdom and contrivance — such for example was our own excise system with its salt laws, and such is the same excise system now, in all that comes under its superintendence : and in the regu- lar working and wise adaptation of all the parts of this beautiful and perfect machinery, we forget that the object itself may not be worth all this wisdom, may be attained in a more easy, natural, and effective way, or may be even not worth attaining. The NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 171 ^visc!om and perfection of the machinery of the laws, and arrange- ments for attaining the end, are confounded with the vahie and wisdom of the end itself. The educational system of Prussia is no doubt admirable as a machinery ; but the same end is to be attained in a more natural and effective way — by raising the moral condition of the parents to free agency in their duties, or if not — if education, that is, reading, writing, and arithmetic, cannot be brought within the acquirements of the common man's children but upon the Prussian semi-coercive principle of tlie state, through its functionaries, intruding npon the parental duties of each indi- vidual, stepping in between the father and hisfiimily, and enforcing by state regulations, fines, and even imprisonment,* what should be left to the moral sense of duty and natural affection of every parent who is not in a state of pupilage from mental imbecility — then is such education not worth the demoralizing price paid for it — the interference with men as free moral agents, the substi- tution of government enactments and superintendence in the most sacred domestic affairs, for self-guidance by conscience, good prin- ciple, and common sense — the reduction, in short, of the population of a country to the social condition of a soldiery off duty roaming about their parade ground under the eye and at the call of their superiors, without free agency or a sense of moral responsibility. Moral eflccts in society can only be produced by moral influences. We may drill boys into reading and writing machines ; but this is not education. The almost mechanical operations of reading, writing, and reckoning, are unquestionably most valuable ac- quirements — who can deny or doubt it? — but they are not edu- * I asked an intelligent Prussian what could be done if a paient refused to send his chikl to school? He told me he had lately been at the police-office when a man was brought in for not sending his girl to school. She could not read, although advancing to the age to be confirmed. The man said his girl was earning her bread at a manufactory which he named, and he could not maintain her at school. He was asked why he did not send her to the even- ing schools established for such cases, and held after working hours, or to the Sunday schools. He said his wife had a large Aimily of young infants, and his girl had to keep them when she came from her work, while her mother was washing for them and doing other needful family work, which she could not do with a child in her arms. The man was told that lie would be committed to prison if he and his wife did not send their girl to school. In such a case, would the school-learning be worth that learning which the girl was receiving at home in household work, or in taking care of children? 172 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. cation ; they are the means only, not the end — the tools, not the work, in the education of man. We are too ready in Britain to consider them as tools which will work of themselves — that if the labouring man is taught to read his Bible, he becomes necessarily a moral, religious man — that to read is to think. This confounding of the means with the end is practically a great error. We see no such effects from the acquisition of much higher branches of school education, and by those far above the social position of the labouring man. Reading and writing are ac- quirements very widely diffused in Paris, in Italy, in Austria, in Prussia, in Sweden ; but the people are not moral, nor religious, nor enUghtened, nor free, because they possess the means: they are not of educated mind in any true sense. If the ultimate object of all education and knowledge be to raise man to the feeling of his own moral worth, to a sense of his responsibility to his Creator and to his conscience for every act, to the dignity of a reflecting, self-guiding, virtuous, religious member of society, then the Prus- sian educational system is a failure. It is only a training from childhood in the conventional discipline and submission of mind which the state exacts from its subjects. It is not a training or education which has raised, but which has lowered, the human character. This system of interference and intrusion into the inmost domestic relations of the people, this educational drill of every family by state means and machinery, supersedes parental tuition. It is a fact not to be denied that the Prussian population is at this day when the fruits of this educational system may be appreciated in the generation of the adults, in a remarkably demoralized con- dition in those branches of moral conduct which cannot be taught in schools, and are not taught by the parents, because parental tuition is broken in upon by governmental interference in Prussia, its efficacy and weight annulled, and the natural dependence of the child upon the words and wisdom of its parent— the delicate threads by which the infant's mind, as its body, draws nutriment from its parent — is ruptured. They know little of human nature who know not that more of moral education may be conveyed in a glance of a mother's eye, than in a whole course of reading and writing under educational sergeants in primary schools and gym- nasia. Of all the virtues, that which the domestic family education of both the sexes most obviously influences — that which marks more clearly than any other the moral condition of a society, the home NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 173 State of moral and religious principles, the efficiency of those prin- ciples in it, and the amount of that moral restraint upon passions and impulses, which it is the object of education and knowledge to attam — is undoubtedly female chastity. Will any traveller, will any Prussian, say that this index-virtue of the moral condi- tion of a people is not lower in Prussia than in almost any part of Europe ?* It is no uncommon event in the family of a respectable tradesman in Berlin to find upon his breakfast table a little baby, of which, whoever may be the father, he has no doubt at all about the maternal grandfather. Such accidents are so common in the class in which they are least common with us — the middle class removed from ignorance or indigence — that they are regarded but as accidents, as youthful indiscretions, not as digraces afrecting,as with us, the respectability and happiness of all the kith and kin for a generation. This educational drill of ail the children of the community to one system, in schools in which the parent has no control or election of what is taught, or by whom, or how, is a very suitable prelude to the education that follows it — the barrack life of all the Prussian youth during three years of the most pre- cious period of human life for forming the moral habits and cha- racter of the man as a future member of society. The unsettled military life for three years of every Prussian on his entrance into the world as a man, the idleness, want of forethought, and frivolity inseparable from his condition during this period, his half military, half civilian state, neither one nor the other, during all the rest of his life, his condition of pupilage under his military or civil func- tionaries, in every act or movement during his existence, from his primary school service (schulpflichtigkeit) to his being enrolled in old age as a landsturm man, are in realily the steps of his educa- tion. Are these the steps to any of the true objects of education; * In 1837 the number of females' in the Prussian population between tlie beginning of their 16th year and the end of their 45th year — that is, within child-bearing age, — was 2,983,146; the number of illegitimate children bom in the same year was 39,501, so that 1 in every 75 of the whole of the females of an age to bear cliildren, had been the mother of an illegitimate child. Prince Pukler Muskau states in one of his late publications (Siidostliclier Bildersaal, 3 Theil. 1841), that the character of the Prussians for honesty stands far lower than that of any other of the German populations; but ho adduces no statistical data for this opinion. As a Prussian, he would scarcely come to such a conclusion if it were not generally believed in Cennany. 174 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. to the attainment of any high feeling of individual moral worth and dignity ? This educational system is in reality, from the cradle to the grave, nothing but a deception, a delusion put upon the noblest principle of human nature — the desire for intellectual development— a deception practised for the paltry poUtical end of rearing the individual to be part and parcel of an artificial and despotic system of government, of training him to be either its instrument or its slave, according to his social station. The British government has accomplished a much wiser and more effective educational measure — the only measure, perhaps, which, without giving umbrage to some political or clerical body or other, could have been adopted for the general education of the people— by the reduction of the postage on letters. This has brought the use and advantage of education home to the common man, for it no longer costs him a day's wages to communicate with his family. This great moral improvement in the condition of the lower class extends the influences of advice, admonition, and family affection among them. The postage was, in reality, a tax upon these moral influences. The people will educate themselves in a single generation, for the sake of the advantages this great measure has bestowed on education. A state-machinery of schools and school-masters spread over the country on the Prus- sian system, would probably have cost more than the sacrifice of revenue by the reduction of postage, and, owing to the clashing of religious parties, would never have been so effective in extend- ing education. The means in fact of education — a neighbour to teach reading and writing — were not wanting, were to be found in every parish, and the want of schools was a far smaller obstacle to the diff"usion of education than the want of any desire of the people themselves for education. The labouring class saw no advantage or benefit from it. This obstacle is overcome without interference with the religious opinions of any class or sect ; and it will be found that already the business of the schoolmaster in society is providing for itself, like that of the miller or the black- smith, without any aid from church or state. The supply will follow the demand in education, as in every other human want ; and the demand will be efl'ective in producing supply, just in pro- portion to the value and use of the article in ordinary life. This measure will be the great historical distinction of the reign of Victoria I. Every mother in the kingdom who has children NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 175 earning their bread at a distance, lays her head upon her pillow at night with a feeling of gratitude for this blessing. It is the great and enviable distinction of the late liberal n:iinistry, that they carried this measure boldly into effect without cripphng its moral influence by reduction of a part only of this tax on the communi- cations of the people. Selbtsgefuhl is a superb word which the German language possesses, to describe the sense of one's own moral dignity as a man ; but the feeling or sentiment it expresses is wanting in a remarkable degree where you expect to find it strongest, — among the German youth, the nationally educated youth. Did it ever happen to a. traveller taking a walk in the neighbourhood of Ox- ford, Cambridge, Dublin, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Saint Andrews, or of any of the universities in the United States, to be accosted by a stout, able-bodied, well-enough-dressed student begging, with cap in hand, for money from the passengers on the high road ? Ten thousand to one no man alive ever witnessed such debasement of mind among the youth of those countries, educated or not educated. The lad would sell his clothes, work, enlist, starve, drown, hang, but beg he would not. In Germany, within half a mile of the University of Bonn, on a Sunday evening when all the town was abroad walking, I have seen a student in tolerably good clothes, his tobacco-pipe in his mouth, begging with his hat off" on the public road, running after passengers and carriages, soliciting charity, and looking very sulky when refused; and the young man in full health, and with clothes on his back that would sell for enough to keep him for a week. This is no uncommon occurrence on the German roads. Every traveller on the roads around Heidelberg, Bonn, and the other university towns of Germany, must have frequently and daily witnessed this debasement of mind among the youth. This want of sensibility to shame, or public opinion, or to personal moral dignity, is a defect of character produced entirely by the system of government interference in all education and all human action. It is an ex- ample of its moral working on society. It is not from moral worth, character, or conduct in their private relations, but from government, from educational, military, or civil functionaries, that the studying class have, in every stage of life, to seek advance- ment. The generous feelings, impulses, and motives of youth, 176 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. by which all means of living in any of the liberal professions, or even in the ordinary branches of industry, are to be obtained only by government license, appointment, and favour,* not by moral worth, merit, and exertion gaining the public estimation. Morally they are slaves of enslaved minds. Compulsory education, com- pulsory religion, compulsory military service, and the finger of government interfering in all action and opinion, and leaving nothing to free will and uncontrolled individual judgment, produce youths well educated, as it is called, because they can read, write, and sing, well dressed, well drilled, and able bodied ; and whose selbstgefuhl, whose moral sense has not been educated, raised, and cultivated, even to the extent of making them feel debased or degraded at running, cap in hand, begging at the side of carriages on the highway. This want of self-respect in the German character, produced by the educational and social system, and the undue importance in the German mind, of rank, office, and conventional distinction, and the undue weight of these in the social economy of Germany, are strongly marked by the profusiont of orders, stars, crosses, ribbons, and empty titles, with which the people, both of civil and military station, adorn and gratify themselves. Every third man you meet in the streets has a label in his button-hole, telling all the world, "lam a knight, look at me." No very young man among the continental military can have ever heard a bullet whistle in the field ; so that even by this class no very profound respect for the ribbon at the button-hole can be claimed, and none at all by the ordinary civil classes who trick themselves out with it en militaire. The feeling of personal worth — the pride, it may be — seems unknown to them, which leads the Bri- tish nobleman, gentleman of high station, or military officer, who * In 1834; for every 100 church or school situations to be filled up in the Prussian dominions, there were 262 candidates qualified by studies at the universities; for every 100 juridical situations, 256 candidates; for every 100 medical, 196 candidates. t The difference of national character between the English and continental people on this point is illustrated by the circumstance that in 1834 the mem- bers of a single continental order — the French order of the legion of honour — amounted to 49,620 persons, and in the same year the five British orders numbered only 906 membei-s, and of these the greater number were persons of that social distinction from birth, rank, or office, that the decoration of an order was but an adjunct of little importance. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 177 may have been honoured with a British or foreign order, to wear it only on particular parade occasions. He feels that he is some- thing without the external testimonial of it : the German takes the emblem for the thing itself The English gentleman would think it quite as inconsistent with his personal dignity to walk about on ordinary occasions, in the ordinary circles of society, with his stars, crosses, and ribbons plastered on his breast, as with the gazette of the actions in which he had won his distinc- tions plastered on his back. The German, again, ties his bit of red ribbon even to the button-hole of his dressing-gown ; the merchant goes to his counting-house, the apothecary to the bar- ber's shop to be shaved, the professor to his lecture room, in crosses and ribbons, as if they were going to the levee of the sovereign. The upper classes of society in all countries are said to be very much alike, and to show few of the peculiar distinctive differences which mark the national character in the middle and lower classes of each country. This is a mistake. The English gentleman, from the highest rank to the very lowest that assumes the appellation, is distinguished from the continental gentleman by this peculiar trait of character — his dependence on himself for his social position, his self-esteem, call it pride, or call it a high- minded feeling of his own worth. There he stands, valuing himself upon something within himself, and not upon any out- ward testimonials of it conferred by others. This feeling goes very deep into society in England. It is often objected to us by foreigners, that we pay the same, or even greater respect and deference to wealth, than they pay to the external honours conferred on merit by the sovereign : that wealth with us, as a social distinction, takes the place even of moral merits, and "what is a man worth" means how many pounds sterling he has, without any reference to his merits, real or conventional, to his birth, education, morals, manners, or other distinctions; that if he is poor, he is nothing in our society; if rich, he is everything. This too is a mistake, a wrong conclusion from right premises. Wealth has all that pre-eminence in social distinction with us, which the foreign traveller observes ; and even more than he observes, censures, and is witty over. But what is wealth? It is a proof, a token undeniable of great industry, great energy, great talent in his sphere, great social activity and utility in the possessor, or in his predecessor who acquired it. It 178 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. is the indubitable proof, generally speaking, of great and success- ful exertion of prudence, skill, mental power applied to material interests, and of extensive social action ; and what ought to be honoured and esteemed, and held in the highest estimation in an enlightened society, if not the visible proof of these social vir- tues in the owner or his predecessors? The deference paid to mere wealth honestly acquired, its pre-eminence as a social dis- tinction, stands upon far more philosophical grounds than the social distinction of mere ancestry, or of mere function, or of mere title, or of the empty honours conferred by a sovereign. Wealth is an independent social power, and is the equivalent in the mate- rial world to genius and talent in the intellectual. The Roths- childs, the Barings, and these great millionaires are in the world of pounds, shillings, and pence, what the Shakspeares, Goethes, Schillers, are in the world of ideas ; and their social action and influence, their wielding of a vast social power in the working of which the fortunes, the comfort, the bread of millions are involved, require a grasp of mind, and are entitled to a social distinction, beyond the comprehension of the mustachioed German baron, who, issuing from some petty metropolis, finds to his utter asto- nishment that mere wealth commands greater respect in this working world of realities than his sixteen ancestors, his Ueuten- ant's commission, his chamberlain's key embroidered on his coat flap, and his half a dozen orders at his button holes. The com- mon sense of all countries gives this social distinction to wealth, above any other distinction that is not purely moral or intellectual. The principle is as clearly felt in Russia as in America; and where public opinion is in free action, as in England, it super- sedes the principle of mere conventional distinctions so far, that the latter without the former — nobility, titles, functions, orders, without wealth — are of no social weight. This common, almost instinctive judgment of all men under all varieties of government, according this pre-eminence of social distinction to mere wealth, proves that this judgment is right, that it is founded on some natural, just, and useful social principle, which cannot be philo- sophized away ; that wealth, mere wealth, is a more natural and just ground of social distinction, than any conventional ground from mere birth, mere court favour, mere title, or mere rank. It arises from the people, and is conferred by the people ; and all other conventional distinctions arise from, and are conferred by NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 179 the will of the court or sovereign. The encroachment of the former upon the latter is a barometer showing the real progress of a community towards a just estimation of social worth and action, and towards a higher moral condition. Where every third man is lounging about as in Prussia, and generally o;i the Conti- nent, with his orders of merit of some kind or other— and many whose general merits would apparently be nothing the worse of the addition of a little industry to earn a new coat to stick their honours upon — the people, be their forms of government what they may, are but in a low social and industrial condition— are ages behind us in their social economy, and in their true social education as free agents and members of the community. CHAPTER VII. NOTES ON THE EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM OF PRUSSIA CONTINUED.— ON ITS EFFECTS ON THE RELIGIOUS CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE.— ON THE PRUSSIAN CHURCH. The educational system of Prussia has been raised to such an influence on the arrangements of other governments for the edu- cation of the people, and from the writings of Cousins, and other distinguished poUtical philosophers, has been viewed in every country with such favour by men of all varieties of opinion in religion and politics, that it will be necessary to consider fully its operation on the moral and physical condition of the Prussian subjects, on their religious and social state. The state of religion under this educational system claims the first place. The great proof of the deteriorating working of the Prussian educational system upon the public mind is, that the public mind lay torpid and unmoved when the religious establishments of the Protestant church, the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches, were abolished by royal edict, and a third thing — a new Prussian church neither Lutheran nor Calvinistic — was set up, and im- posed by the edict of civil power upon the Protestant population. The abolition of the religious observances and modes of public worship in which they had been bred, was quietly submitted to by an educated population of eight millions of Protestants, as a matter of police, not of conscience, as a matter quite as much within the legitimate right and power of their government, as a change in their custom-house laws — so low has this educational system reduced the religious and moral sense in Prussia, and the feeling of individual right to freedom of conviction — and except from a few villages in Silesia which refused to abandon the Lu- theran liturgy and observances, scarcely a murmur was heard from this educated population at a measure not only destructive to the Protestant religion, but the most arbitrary, and insulting to freedom of mind and conscience that has occurred in modern NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. l8l history. If eight millions of people, people with arms in their hands, are brought by this educational system to regard with indifference the interference of government with all that free men deem sacred in life, with family education, religion, conscience, free agency, and opinion in religious belief— to be the passive slaves of a government in which they are not represented — to be nothing but machines to be managed by the hands of a host of public functionaries— then let us educate our own families in our own way in Britain, or not educate them at all, rather than adopt a system of national education for teaching reading and writing, so deteriorating to the higher objects of education — the cultivation of moral and religious sentiment, and independence of mind among the people. The history of the new Prussian church, will be one of the most important chapters to posterity, and is now the most im- portant to the Protestant interest in the history of this age. The subject is but little known among us ; and, although it is too grave and important for its place, cannot be passed over here without giving at some length the facts and observations regarding it which the traveller has gathered. To some these will be dull reading ; to others, to not a few in the present religiously excited state of the public mind in Britain, they will be of deep interest. The Prussian population, in 1S37, consisted, according to the official report of Von Hoffman, director of the statistical bureau, of 14,098,125 souls, of whom 8,604,748 were of the United Evangelical or new Prussian Church. 5,294,003 were of the Roman Catholic Church. 1,300 were of the Greek Church. 14,495 were Mennonites or Moravians. 183,579 were Jews, of whom 102.917 had civil rights as Prussian sub- jects. 14,098,12.5 Of the eight and a half millions of the former Protestant, now Evangelical Prussian church, the proportions of those who were Luthern and Calvinistic are not known, as, after the amalgama- tion of the two, in IS 1 7, into one church by royal edict, the dis- tinction was considered as abolished in all official acts. It appears from the proclamation of his late majesty, of Sep- tember 27, 1817, addressed to these eight and a half millions of his Protestant subjects, that the amalgamation of the Lutheran 182 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and Calvinistic churches into one Prussian church had been a favourite idea of the royal family for some generations. The political object, probably, was to raise Prussia to the same posi- tion with regard to Protestant Germany in which Austria stands with regard to Catholic Germany — to make the Prussian house the civil head and protector of Protestantism. This proclamation or announcement of the royal will to unite the two branches of the Protestant church into one is of date September 27, 1817, and in words as follows : — " My illustrious ancestors, the Elector John Sigismund, the Elector George William, the great Elector and King Frederic I., and King Frederic William IL, laboured with anxious and pious care, as the history of their lives and govern- ment shows, to unite the two divided Protestant churches, the Lutheran and the Reformed (Calvinistic), into one evangelic Christian church in their land. Honouring their memory and salutary intentions, I willingly join in this purpose, and pray that a work pleasing to God, which in their days, met with insur- mountable obstacles from an unhappy sectarian spirit, may, under the influence of a better spirit which sets aside the non-essential, and holds fast by the essential in Christianity in which both con- fessions of faith agree, be accomplished in my states, to the honour of God and the welfare of the Christian church, at the approaching centenary commemoration of the Reformation. Such a truly reli- gious union of the two Protestant churches, separated as they are only by external differences, accords with the great end of Chris- tianity, fulfils the first intentions of the reformers, is in the spirit of Protestantism, promotes the public worship, is advantageous to domestic piety, and will be the spring of many useful improve- ments in schools and churches, which are now prevented by dif ferences of faith. To this wholesome, long-wished-for, and often vainly attempted union, in which the Reformed (Calvinistic) church will not have to go over to the Lutheran, nor the Lutheran to the Reformed, but both will form one new-created, evangelical Chris- tian church in the spirit of their holy Founder, no obstacle now exists in the nature of things, provided both these parties earn- esdy, and in true Christian spirit, desire it ; and on the approach- ing occasion of returning thanks to Divine Providence for the unspeakable blessing of the Reformation, show that they truly honour the memory of its great founder by carrying on his im- mortal work. But much as I wish that the Reformed and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 183 Lutheran churches in my dominions may partake with me in these well-considered views, I respect their rights and liberty, and am far from pressing them, on this occasion, to adopt and estab- lish it. This union can only be of real value if neither persua- sion nor indifference induce its acceptance, but a real and free conviction ; and if its roots and existence be not planted in the inward heart, and not merely in outward forms. As 1 myself intend in this spirit to commemorate the centenary fast day in celebration of the Reformation, in a union of the two congrega- tions (hitherto called the Reformed and the Lutheran congrega- tions of the garrison and court attendants at Potsdam) into one evangelical Christian congregation, and to partake with it of the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper, so I trust this my own example will operate beneficially on all the Protestant congrega- tions in my dominions, and will be generally followed in spirit and in truth. I leave it to the wisdom of the consistories, and the pious zeal of the clergy and their synods, to determine the outward concurring forms of this union, convinced that the con- gregations will in true Christian spirit willingly follow them, and that wheresoever the view is directed to what is the essential, and to the great holy subject itself, the forms will be easily adjusted, and the externals will of themselves proceed from the internals, simple, dignified, and true. May the promised period arrive when all shall form one flock under one shepherd, with one spirit, one love, one hope !" The previous attempts at an union of the two churches alluded to in this proclamation were, probably, the following. In 1615, John Sigismund, Elector of Brandenburgh, who had left the Lutheran for the Reformed Church, held a religious conference between the two churches to accommodate their differences. But these were " the good old times," which our Puseyites and high church party would wish to bring back. The Lutheran clergy were too intolerant to listen to the sister church. " Catholic rather than Calvinist," was then, as no^, the field-cry ; and it was the common fashion to give dogs the name of Calvin. In 1631, Sigismund's successor, George' William, sent theologians to a religious conference between the churches held at Lcipsic, with the same intentions and the same success. His son, Frederic William, also brought together a conference which, in 16(i2-63, sat for several months, and produced nothing. His son, King 184 NOTES OP A TRAVELLER. Frederic II., in 1703 and 1707, attempted it also in vain. In 1736, his son Frederic William took it up zealously, and proposed to drop the Calvinistic doctrine of predestination, which is the great stumbling-block to the genuine Lutheran, if the Lutheran church Avould give up those ceremonials of the Popish church offensive to Calvinistic eyes and ears, — the altar, the wafer at the sacra- ment, the high mass robes, the chanting the collect, &c. Many Lutheran congregations were not averse to such an union ; but in the two following reigns other objects and interests occupied the attention of government ; and the congregations of each church adhered to the usages and principles, now hallowed by time, of their respective branches of Protestantism. It cannot be doubted that under Frederic the Great, indiffer- ence about rehgion of any form spread widely in Prussia. Infi- delity was the fashion of the times in literature. Germany had no literature of her own at that period, and even the German language was held in such contempt that in noblemen's families in Germany, not sixty years ago, the children were not allowed to hear German, for fear of spoiUng their French idiom. Every thing was French, or an attempt at it ; and with Voltaire and Frederic himself at the head of all that was literary and intellec- tual, the tendency was certainly not towards religion. It is a natural effect of great calamities on nations, as on individuals, that they either make the mind grossly irreligious, or grossly supersti- tious. War, the greatest of all calamities, always leaves behind one or the other of these'extremes. The seven year' war, followed by a period of dissipation and irreligion in all the little Frenchi- fied German courts, produced, in general, irreligious action even very deep down in society. The progress of the French Revo- lution had no tendency, from first to last, to religionize the minds of the German population ; and when the third centenary com- memoration, in 1817, of the reformation approached, the Prussian people were in a state of stolid indifference, apparently, on reli- gious matters. The religious feelings of the congregations of both churches were cooled down to zero, or at least to the amal- gamation-point. The monarch himself, it appears from this pro- clamation, did not consider his court attendants and garrison at Potsdam entitled to have any religious scruple, or freedom of will, about taking the sacrament in any way the king pleased. These congregations were commanded. On the 31st of October, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 185 1817, the sacrament was administered to them, and to his majesty, according to the new union-ritual. A king's wishes are com- ni'ands, and strong commands, when his own example is laid down as the rule to be followed. Out of about S950 congrega- tions of the Protestant faith in Prussia, 7750 were reported to have joined the union, and adopted the new ritual. The public mind was in reality quite prepared for the step, if government thought the step worth the taking. Accustomed to obey without murmur or remonstrance, ignorant even of the intentions of their own government until they appear as fixed edictal laws like mili- tary orders, the people have no opportunity of thinking, much less of petitioning, or reclaiming, or making public opinion known upon any proposed public measures, A people in this state is ready for any step, in external ceremonial observance at least, that may be commanded. On the 30th June, 1817, an order from the minister of home affairs abolished the names of Lutheran and Reformed (Calvin- istic) churches, and also the historically significant and distinctive name of Protestant church, and enjoined and commanded the general use of the name Evangelical church only. Being fitted with a church, and their church with a name, the few who cared for such things began to consider wherein consists the difference between this new Prussian church and the churches of Luther and Calvin. These two are not merely separated, as the royal proclamation says, by external differences from each other, but by doctrinal and essential difl'erences. Calvinism, as it exists in Scotland, or in Switzerland, is far more widely separated both in doctrine and church observances, from Lutheranism, as it exists in Denmark or other purely Lutheran countries, than Lutheran- ism itself is from the Roman Catholic church. In what does this new Prussian church differ, or in what does it agree with either of those two main branches of the Protestant religion ? It was soon discovered that the Berlin synod, who, abolishing Lutheranism, Calvinism, and Protestantism, even to the very names, had framed this third thing to pleasure the royal will, had proceeded upon no doctrinal principles whatsoever, but upon a mere difference in the external observances of public worship ; and by an unworthy equivoque, unworthy of Christian ministers, or of men sitting upon public affairs of religious import, liad framed those external observances so that, with a safe conscience, 13 186 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. — that is, as religious conscience goes in countries without mental freedom, — any man, Lutheran or Caivinist, might partake of the sacrament of the Lord's snpper in this new Prussian evangehcal church, without being less a Lutheran or less a Calvinist than he was before. This may be very clever, but is scarcely honest. The following explanation will show the nature of this church trick. The difference between the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches consists essentially in their different doctrines on the sacrament of the Lord's supper, and on predestination. These are the two main points, with regard to which the one church cannot go over to the other. The old orthodox Lutheranism teaches, relative to the sacrament, " there is a real substantial presence, participation, and enjoyment of the body and blood of Christ in the sacrament, which, by means of an incomprehensible, so called, sacramental union with bread and wine, is so connected with it that the partaker, while he receives the elements, partakes also of the real body of Christ ivith and under bread and wine, wliich, however, is not an impanation ; that is to say, is not so to be understood as if the body of Christ was locally enclosed in the bread, or was connected with it out of the sacramental participation. The participation of the body and blood of Christ takes place not merely in a spiritual manner by faith, but by the mouth ; but also not in a gross way, as if the body of Jesus was crushed by the teeth, and digested like other food ; but it is a true, although supernatural sacramental eating of the body of Christ, which cannot be explained and com- prehended, but is to be taken up merely by faith, and subjection of reason under obedience to Christ." This is the original Luthe- ran doctrine, as laid down in the Concordia Formularis of instruc- tion on the sacrament. The Puseyite of the English church may perhaps understand it : the Calvinist can only wish him joy of his intellect, and honestly confess that it is to him unintelligible. The Lutheran church, however, had practically abandoned the extreme of doctrine on this subject. Some of the greatest of her orthodox theologians, as Zacharias and Storr, had long ago repudiated the gross idea of a manducatio carnis, and had gone over from this doctrine which borders on sheer nonsense, to Calvin's theory of a presentia operativa, and held it to be, practically, a matter of in- difference as to the working of the Lord's supper on the human mind, whether it was received as a fleshly, or a spiritual presence NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 187 of Christ through a mysterious working of the H0I7 Ghost in the sacramental elements ; and it was generally admitted that, as to practical effect or meaning, Zwingli's milder view of the Lord's supper as commemorative only of the original scriptural event, was preferable to any other theory. The whole Lutheran church had thus, in modern times, a tendency to some modification or other of Calvinistic doctrine on this subject. The great Calvinistic dogma, on the other hand, of predestination, and election from all eternity of those to be saved, was practically receded from by the German Calvinist, and the position of the two churches with regard to this doctrine was reversed. Here the Calvinistic church had openly abandoned this doctrine in the extremx^ extent which went to deny man's free will, and the efficacy of his own moral and religious efforts or merits. The Formula consensus Helvetica, and the Resolutions of the Synod of Dort, are the only symbolical writings of the Calvinistic church on the Continent which retain the doctrine of predestination in all its Calvinistic rigidity. The other German confessions of faith softened and modified it from time to time : and, at last the Heidelburg Catechism omitted it altogether, and the Anhalt Confession directly contradicts it. In this actual state of the public mind in the two great branches of the Protestant church, — with difficulties on each side practically receded from, the Berlin synod had really a clear field for the amalgamation of the two churches, had they set about it honestly. The doctrine of predestination was not pressing, being connected with no religious act or observance of the churches in which it was originally maintained or denied : that of the Lord's supper, again, was pressing, because the sovereign had announced his intention of taking that sacrament on the 31st of October, in com- memoration of the third centenary of the Reformation, in a new way that was to unite the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches into one new church, form, and doctrine.* Instead of meeting the * II is curious in history to find, sometimes, extremes meeting; to find ar- bitrary autocracy in Prussia, and democratic government in the French repub- lic, adopting the same measure for the same object, and by the same means ; viz., amalgamation of the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches, for the concen- tration of civil authority over the congregations through tlieir religion, and by means of a consistory of the clergy of both churches. Under tlie date 2] Ven- tose. An. 10 de la Republique, citoyen Vanricura, sous-prefet of the Arrondisse- ment of Simmern, in the department of the Rhine and Moselle, makes a report 188 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. difficulty obviously arising from the two distinct doctrines honestly and boldly, the synod opened a Jesuitical side-door through which the slender consciences at least, if not the robust, of both Lutherans and Calvinists, could slip in and go to the table, and slip out, and each take the sacrament, and please His Majesty, without offence to his own church doctrines. The synod amalgamated the forms, and left the substance, the doctrine, to shift for itself. In the con- secration of the elements in the Lutheran, and in the Calvinistic church, it is distinctly announced to the communicant in what sense it is presented to him — in the one, it is as the body and blood — in the other it is as the symbols of the body and blood. The synod of Berlin evaded the dilemma, by not consecrating the elements at all, either in the one or the other sense, but presenting them to the communicant with the historical averment, " Christ said, This is my body," &c. " Christ said, This is my blood," &c. Now that Christ said so is not doubted ; but the question is, in what sense did Christ say so ? in the Lutheran or in the Calvin- istic sense ? By a quirk, unworthy of the importance of the act, the Lutheran or the Calvinist might receive the sacrament in this new church, and each give the meaning he pleases, or that which is taught in his own church, to it. Nay, the Jew, or the Maho- metan, might very safely take the elements as here presented, without compromising his own faith, for they are only presented historically, and require no religious belief, no belief but in the historical fact, that on a certain occasion Christ said. This is my body — This is my blood;— a fact,;?er se, not doubtful, nor ques- tioned. This was no union of the Calvinistic and Lutheran to the prefet upon the union of the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches; and a consistory of ministers of both churches recommends the adoption of a com- mon ritual and an union, using almost the same phrases as the Prussian monarch; viz., that they differ only in the accessories and not in the essential. The German editor of this document (to be found in Number 5 of Denk- schriften und Brefe zur Characteristic der Welt und Literatur, Berlin, 1841) slyly observes, " that the principal difference between this attempt and those made in later times to unite the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches is, that the union was left.by the French government to be effected entirely by the clergy themselves, without the slightest influence to be used with the congregations to adopt it uirless by their own desire." The report of the sous-prefet, in re- commending the measure, proposes that it should be left entirely to time, and the free will of the people ; and considers the Protestants of both churches not ripe for such an amalgamation generally. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 189 churches, bat a hocus pocus* trick played at the altar, by wliicli eacli might do the same religious act with totally difl'erent mean- ings. The difference between the two may practically and in religious effect on the human mind be of no importance, and the question itself be unintelligible on the Lutheran side ; but this is a knavish way of getting rid of the difficulty, and the union is but a deception as to doctrine or meaning. It is only a union of a form which both churches may use, the form having no reference at all to their distinctive doctrines, or to any doctrine of its own. There was religious sentiment enough in some corners of Prussia to object to this fiction ; but the new church with its no meaning would have been generally adopted as a very good cloak under wliich a man might wear what religious opinions he pleased, and still be clad like his neighbours— and in this view it was considered both a clever and useful church trick — if the unfortunate rage of the Prussian government to make all things uniform, to centralize, and, for the facility of command, to uniformize all things, had not pushed matters too rapidly. A new church Agenda, which should give perfect uniformity to the service of the new Prussian church, was composed, by order of his majesty, in 1822, by the former Lutheran and Calvinistic divines, under the auspices of Dr. Eylert and Dr. Neander. When this new form of worship, however, came to be introduced, it met with unexpected and universal op- position from the congregations. In many districts of a kingdom made up of patches from other countries, it was alleged that the rights of the Protestant faith confirmed by the laws of the land, allowed the Protestant congregations themselves to form and settle the external forms of their worship, and it is probable that they really had such rights reserved, when turned over, as in Germany was not unfrequently the case, from a Lutheran to a Calvinistic, or to a Catholic master, from political objects. Another great party, the liberal, began to think that however liberal the new Prussian church appeared in its doctrine, or want of doctrine, the Agenda prescribing forms of prayer to be adopted, and alone tolerated, was an attempt to impose new shackles on the human mind, (o turn religion into a support of despotism, and to train the Prussian mind, as the Russian mind is trained, into a religious * Hocus Pocus is said to be derived from llie mockery of the common people, at the Reformation, of the Catliolic words of consecration of the .sacra- mental elements — hoc est corpus — tnmsubstautiatiun allending the words. 190 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. \''eneration for, and almost worship of, the supreme autocratic head of the state.* The monarch was impatient of opposition and delay, and forgetting that by his proclamation of 1817 he wants the union to be brought about " neither by persuasion, nor indifference, but by inward conviction," the new form of service v/as introduced with armed force, all objections to it were crushed as treasonable, and on some poor villages in Silesia which obsti- nately refused to exchange the old Lutheran service for the new, troops were quartered on the people to be supported at their ex- pense — that is to live in free quarters as if they were enemies in the land, until the people conformed. The people were ruined, and a few of these poor martyrs, about six hundred in number, calling themselves old Lutherans, found their way by Hamburgh and Hull to America — the last of the religious martyrs, it is to be hoped, whom the persecution of a despot will drive to her forests. Ten years after the establishment of the new Prussian church, Bishop Eylert of Potsdam published a defence and explanation of its principle and working—Ueber den Werth, und die Wirkung des evangelische Kirche in den Koniglich Prussischen Staaten bestimmten Liturgie und Agenda, Potsdam, 1830. According to the reverend author's view, the merits of this new liturgy (he was one of the composers of it) consists mainly in this merely historical presentation of the sacramental elements of the Lord's supper ; that is, in its being so presented that each denomination of Chris- tians may take it, and apply his own meaning to it — page 37, 38. The reverend bishop forgets that, so taken, it is no sacrament at all; it is only a reference to an historical fact, not to any religious signification of that fact, such as Catholics, Lutherans, and Cal- vinists attached to it, however widely they may differ from each * The following passage from a tract published in 1835, in Berlin, '■'• Send- schreiben wieder die falschen Propheten," and consequently published with the approbation of the censorship, as religious doctrine receiving its z»jpnma/w?-, gives countenance to the supposition that it was a state object to convert reli- gion into a political support of the monarchical principle. " Do ye believe in God? then must ye believe in Christ.' Do ye beheve in Christ? then must ye believe in the king. He is our head on earth, and rules by the order of God. The king has appeared in the flesh in our native land." The censorship has clearly approved of this idea of the incarnation of the divinity in the royal person as suitable religious doctrine for the people ; for no work or passage can be offered to the public without the approbation of the college of censor- ship, g NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 191 Other as to what that signification is, or ought to be. On his prin- ciple, Jew, Gentile, or Mahometan, miglit receive the sacrament from him, and remain Jew, Gentile, or Mahometan : for it is only- presented to him as figuring an historical fact — not at all doubted, and not at all connected with any peculiar doctrine attached to that fact. This courtly divinity may suit the meridian of Potsdam, but is not Christian divinity. The bishop's defence of, or rather his apology for, his new liturgy, and Agenda, rests upon the following twelve grounds, stated in the work above referred to : — 1. It is purely biblical in its contents. 2. Consistent with the instruction of our evangelical church (which must mean consistent with itself, it being the liturgy of what is called the evangelical church, viz., the united Lutheran and Calvinistic churches). 3. Binding, but not contracting on the mind. 4. Old church-like in its language and forms. 5. Awakens and nourishes piety. 6. Preserves the meaning of the church (viz., of the Protestant church). 7. Is the operative means of union of the two churches (Lu- theran and Calvinistic). 8. Is the means of a farther and more sure progress to improve- ment. 9. Is suited to the times. 10. Is the firm bond of a church union, and as such the best foundation of a church constitution. 11. It is purely national. 12. Is edifying in its origin (viz., from the royal pleasure). Of these twelve grounds adduced, and argued upon by the reverend bishop for the adoption and defence of his new liturgy, not one can be called an honestly religious ground. The last six are purely political, not Christian grounds. The first six are theo- logico-political, not doctrinal or scriptural grounds. The expedi- ency for church or state, the adaptation of scriptural phraseology or sentiments to aid that expediency, form no doctrinal or religious grounds for introducing, and imposing by state enactments, a new form of church service, a new mode of public worship, without the consent of the public. Giving even to Bishop Eylert more than he is perhaps willing to take— giving him the admission that the Lutheran doctrine on the sacrament is inconsistent with common 192 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. sense, and the Calvinistic doctrine on predestination equally so — it was incumbent on him to prove that he had discovered in scrip- ture a doctrine which reconciled both, not merely a quirk that avoided both : and that he had found in scripture, or in the doc- trinal writings of the two great founders of the two branches of the Protestant church, a right given to a king and synod, or to a state and church, or to a government of any kind, to intermeddle with the religious belief, observances, doctrines, or even errors of Christian Protestants at all — to impose upon them by state or church power any doctrines, forms, or observances, however good, not assented to by them, not agreeable to their religious convictions. The Lutheran and Calvinistic doctrines, and forms of public wor- ship or church services, such as they are, rational or not rational, liave become types, fixed landmarks in Protestantism, by which Protestant Christians in every land direct their course. Before new landmarks are set up, it is incumbent to prove not only that they are scripturally better, but that those who set them up are en- titled to do so, and entitled to enforce the assent of the Protestant community to them by the aid of the secular arm. In the con- troversy which this new liturgy, thus enforced on the Calvinistic and Lutheran congregations in Prussia, gave rise to. Bishops Eylert and Neander, the ecclesiastical sponsors of this bantling of a Prussian church, are on the horns of a dilemma. If, as Bishop Eylert says, the difference is not essential between his liturgy and the liturgies used in the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches, why frame it, why enforce it by the hand of the civil power ? Why tear asunder the bands of peace and harmony in which Protestant Christians were living ? Why impoverish, by quartering troops on them, the recusant villagers of Silesia who in their gross and honest ignorance clung to the religious forms and observances of their forefathers? Why drive them to the wilds of America, pil- grims of the nineteenth century seeking a refuge from religious persecution in her forests ? And from whence ? from the most educated land in Europe, from Prussia ! Why put down and prohibit the exercise of religious worship except within churches, by enactment of 9th March, 1S34— the most anti-christian and tyrannical law ever passed in modern times in any country laying claims to civilization, religion, and the blessings of education. But if the difference between the new and the old churches be essential, why do Bishops Eylert and Neander assume that they NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 193 are the Luther and Calvin of the age, and are even invested with greater power than tlie original reformers ; as without communi- cations or conferences, which the first reformers had, with other Protestant ecclesiastics, or councils of both churches in other lands, they assume the power of cramming their own nostrums down the throat of the whole Protestant church ? Do the reverend bishops declare that it is only for Prussia they promulgate their liturgy ? Their opponents ask if the Protestant church was esta- blished for Prussia only ? If Luther and Calvin preached their doctrines only for Prussia? If Prussia be not a branch, and a principal one, of the general European Protestant church, which these two courtly divines have severed by the hand of the civil power, and on political, not doctrinal grounds, from the parent stem of which it formed a part ? Do these bishops maintain that the Prussian government is entitled to prescribe what religious observances and doctrines it pleases to its own subjects? Then, say their opponents, freedom of religious belief, upon which the Protestant church is founded, is gone. Christianity is safer, and freedom of opinion better protected from the arbitrary hand of the civil power, by having its basis, its point cfappui, out of the reach and beyond the territory of an irresponsible government supreme both in civil and religious affairs — safer, in a word, at Rome than at Potsdam. In an answer and declaration of the magistrates of the city of Berlin, dated 13th July, 1S24, to an official letter of the minister for home affairs, requiring them, as patrons of the city churches, to introduce the new liturgy— a very remarkable document for its independent and well-expressed arguments against the power assumed by the state to impose a liturgy on the subjects — it is observed, " If, notwithstanding the silence of positive law or usage, this liturgical right of the sove- reign is to be held one of the inherent rights of sovereignty, the sovereign must be entitled to the same right of imposing a li- turgy or other church observances on all his subjects equally — on the Catholics as well as on the Protestants. But this is decid- edly not the case with the Catholic population, and the Protestants will be induced rather to go over to the Culfwlic faith, than to be exposed to a constant inquietude of religious conscience by the ever-changing forms of religious worship, imposed according to the pleasure and personal views of each succeeding sovereign. The same liturgical right must be inherent also in Catholic as well as in Protestant sovereigns. How is the Protestant religion to 194 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. subsist at all in Catholic countries in which there are very many Protestant congregations, if the Catholic sovereign has this inher- ent right over tlieir religious observances?" The principle that the civil government, or state, or church and state united, of a country is entitled to regulate its religious belief, has more of intellectual thraldom in it than the power of the popish church ever exercised in the darkest ages; for it had no civil power joined to its rehgious power. It only worked through the agency of the civil power of each country. The church of Rome was an independent, distinct, and often an opposing power in every country to the civil power, a circumstance in the social economy of the middle ages, to which, perhaps, Europe is in- debted for her civilization and freedom — for not being in the state of barbarism and slavery of the East, and of every country, ancient and modern, in which the religious and civil power have been united in one government. Civil liberty is closely connected with religious liberty — with the church being independent of the state, although not exactly in the way the Scotch clergy claim for the church, a church power independent of the civil power. The question being agitated on the Continent as well as at home, deserves consideration. In Germany the seven Catholic sovereigns have 12,074,700 Catholic subjects, and 2,541,000 Protestant subjects. The twenty- nine Protestant sovereigns, including the four free cities, have 12,113,000 Protestant subjects, and 4,966,000 Catholic. Of these populations in Germany those which have their point of spiritual government without their states and independent of them, — as the Catholics have at Rome, — enjoy certainly more spiritual in- dependence, are less exposed to the intermeddling of the hand of civil power with their religious concerns, than the Protestant populations, which, since the Reformation, have had church and state united in one government, and in which each autocratic sovereign is de facto a home-pope. The church affairs of Prus- sia in this half century, those of Saxony, Bavaria, and of the smaller principalities such as Anhalt Cothen, in all of which the state has assumed and exercised power inconsistently with the principles, doctrines, observances, or privileges of the Protestant religion, clearly show that the Protestant church on the Continent, as a power, has become merely an administrative body of clerical functionaries acting under the orders of the civil power or state. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 195 The many able and pious men of the laity as well as clergy in Scotland, who contend that this subserviency of the church to the state is not a sound and safe position for the Christian Protest- ant rehgion, are in the right practically as well as theoretically. The power of a state over the religious concerns of its subjects is proved by all history, ancient and modern, to be so adverse to the development of civil liberty, that it may be called the right arm of despotism. It is this power which enslaves the Russian and the Mahometan populations. It is adverse to the Protestant religion, not merely from the freaks or schemes of autocratic monarchs endeavouring, as in Prussia, to convert religion into a state machine, an evil which a constitutional government may prevent, but by an evil which no form of government can pre- vent—by reducing the moral weight of the clergy of a country to that of state-paid functionaries. If the traveller fairly exam- ines the religious and moral influence of the established clergy in Protestant countries, in Sweden, Denmark, England and Scot- land, Prussia, Sv/itzerland, he will find it diminished exactly in proportion to the power of the state over the religious concerns of the people, and at its minimum in those despotic states, such as Denmark and Prussia, in which the clergy act merely as func- tionaries put in by the state to perform certain duties according to certain forms. The union of church and state in the way in which it has settled itself in all Protestant countries, — viz., that of the civil power being supreme, and the church power merely adminis- trative, or at the utmost, deliberative, but not at all legislative and executive in church affairs — appears not to have been the inten- tion of the first reformers. A church power in Protestant coun- tries independent of the state or civil magistrate in all ecclesiastical afl'airs, as the Catholic church is by its subjection to the Roman pontiff only, was undoubtedly the prevailing idea in the Reformed church in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries ; and this inde- pendence of the church power was not ideal only, but, as every kirk session or parish record in Protestant countries shows, was exerted in the seventeenth century over acts in private life, which if illegal belonged only to the cognizance of the civil magistrate. Time, however, has proved that, under every form of govern- ment — in Holland, in Switzerland, in the Hans-towns with their various modifications of democracy, in Prussia, Denmark, Sweden, with monarchy or aristocracy as the ruling clement in their social 196 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. economy, in Britain with a mixed constitution — no such state within a state, as a church power independent of the civil power, can exist witliout a derangement of all the movements of society. The independent action of an ecclesiastical power over spiritual affairs which cannot be distinctly divided from temporal inter- ests by any definition, as they run into each other imperceptibly, is abandoned, even in theory, in all Protestant countries except Scotland : and those who support the theory in Scotland are puz- zled when called upon to apply it to practice, and to distinguish what is purely spiritual in any given case, that does not also touch those civil rights and temporal interests which are avowedly out of church jurisdiction. They are nevertheless in the right who maintain this theory. The supremacy of the civil power over the religious concerns of the people is clearly inconsistent with a sound and pure administration of the Christian religion in Pro- testant countries. Now, there is but one remedy for this over- whelming evil which has been growing to a head since the Re- formation. It is to vest the church power in Protestant countries neither in the civil power or government of the country, nor in an ecclesiastical power independent of the civil power or govern- ment, which would be a state within the state incompatible with social movement, but in the source of all social power — in the people. It is in the voluntary system, in which neither state power or church power can interfere with the religious convic- tions of men, that Protestant Christianity must ultimately find its true and permanent asylum. It will not escape the reader that all these church questions abroad are modifications of the same non-intrusion question which agitates Scotland, and of the church extension and high church power questions which begin to agitate England : all are modifi- cations of the same unsettled question, whether the state or church, singly or jointly, should or should not have a power over the religious doctrines and observances ofthe individuals composing the social body. The church assumes now, as it did in the darkest ages, that such a power over the religious conscience should be lodged somewhere, and the only question it permits is, whether this power should be lodged in a body called the church, or in a body called the state. That this power should be lodged in a body called the people, that is, should be abolished altogether as an establishment in society vested with power — and no Christian NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 197 doctrine, observance, or ceremony, have any exclusive rights, powers, or privileges in society more than any other Christian doctrine, observance, or ceremony, the preference being one which should rest on individual Christian conviction alone, not upon positive laws of a church, or state and church government — is a truth which is only beginning to dawn upon Europe from across the Atlantic. In this clerical epidemic, this cholera sncerdolalis which has spread over the European churches, it is a singular historical coincidence, that at the very same moment, the Catholic, the Calvinistic, and the English clergy are agitating for a church power independent of the civil power, and arguing the point (which is still more singular) upon precisely the same grounds. " The headship of Christ in his church," as propounded by the many able Scotch ministers who claim an independent power for the Scotch Kirk from the authority of the civil power, is stated in almost the same words and arguments by Dr. Von Schutz, Uche7' Kirchen Slants rechl in der P^^eussischen Rhein Provinz, Wurz- burg, 1841, and by a host of other Catholic polemical pamphlet writers, who claim the same independence of the civil power for the Roman Catholic establishment in Prussia. It would be a task bordering on the ludicrous, yet suggestive of just ideas of the nature of church power, to bring together the exactly similar reasoning, the identical scriptural references and expressions used by popish priests and presbyterian ministers, for proving the inde- pendence of the power of the church of the civil power, or state, for their respective church establishments. An apostolic succes- sion to power, derived from the headship of our Saviour over his church, is equally the foundation upon which the Papist, the Puseyite, and the Presbyterian builds at the present day the church's independence of the civil power. The popisli priests seem to have a stronger position in their argument than the En- glish or Scotch clergy, because the apostolic succession in the person of each pope is. a received dogma in their faith, from which there is no dissent among them; and the spiritual power of the pope, and the matters over which it extends — the jus majestaticum circa sacra — are settled and acknowledged points in the laws of all Catholic countries. The popish clergy also in Germany stand upon the liberal and popular groimds, that when the territorial possession of a district is, from political considera- 198 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. tions, made over from one potentate to another, — from a Catholic to a Protestant, or vice versd, which was the case with the pro- vinces of the Rhine, Belgium, &c., — it is a monstrous proposition that the religion, laws, habits, and whole social existence of the people thus transferred, must be changed and accommodated forthwith to those of the new masters put upon them ; that from Protestants they must become Catholics, or the reverse — from the code Napoleon, must adopt the feudal law. The popish priests stand upon the defence of acknowledged spiritual rights, which, if taken away by a royal edict without any concurrence of the people to it through a constitutional representation, and a law or act to which the people are parties, would lay open all rights, as well as those claimed by the clergy, to the arbitrary interference of the civil power. Independent altogether of superstition or church influence, the Catholic clergy have here a support from this connection between their cause and the cause of liberal con- stitutional government, as opposed to a government of arbitrary edicts and irresponsible functionaries. It is the popular side, and the government will either have to give way, or to submit its propositions to a constitutional legislature. Between submission to the pope in all the questions with the Catholic church, and a representative constitution sanctioning by the voice of the people themselves the supremacy of the state in those questions, no third way is open for the Prussian government. It seems a decree of fate in social economy, that representative government, parlia- ments, shall spring up in every age from collisions between the civil and ecclesiastical powers. In their struggle for a supremacy of authority in regulating the human mind in its religious con- victions, the power drops from both, and is restored to its proper owner — the people themselves. The church questions in Prussia were of the late monarch's own raising. He wilfully lighted a candle to burn his own fingers. The different churches are sup- ported by the people, because their cause is opposed to an arbi- trary irresponsible government regulating by its edicts the most sacred interests of men. The Scotch and English churches stand upon no such popular grounds, for their claim is, that society should take a retrograde step, and re-establish a church power over the religious concerns of men which, from the advance of society in good government and intelligence, is already half abolished in constitutional governments, by being brought under NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 199 the legislative power of the state, and must finally be abrogated altogether for the sake of religion itself, by the adoption of the voluntary church system, and the abandonment both by church and state of all power over the religious concerns of men, as a power which is merely a remnant of dark and barbarous times. The stones are too hot on which Wishart, Servetus, and Latimer were burnt at the stake, for Papist, Puseyite, or Calvinist to build a modern church power upon. The untravelled reader may not understand fully this question of the liturgy, without some explanation respecting the liturgies of the Lutheran church on the Continent. The Lutheran church never had one unchangeable liturgy, ritual, or form of public Avorship, like that of the English church. Luther himself, al- though he favoured set forms of prayers " to aid the weaker shepherds in their pastoral duties," was so far from giving them the importance given to such forms by the Church of England, that in his Order or Regulation of Public Worship of the year 1526, he says in his powerful but simple language, — as a writer and thinker, Lutlier was the Cobbett or O'Connell of his age — « Will any congregation not willingly follow others in these out- ward things ? what need is there to burthen their consciences by- orders of councils which soon come to be laid down as law, and ensnare either their consciences or their souls ? If the one church follow the other from free will, or if each follow its own custom and usage, it matters not, so that an unity of spirit in belief and in word be preserved. The diversity in earthly and external things does no harm." Luther always maintained this Christian and evangelical freedom. It was the basis of his own Reforma- tion. Again, he says, in his explanation and preaching on the Gospel of Saint John, — " Wordly powers, princes, lords, and la!wyers, may make laws, give out rights and orders respecting houses and yards, villages and corn fields, wine, and land, and people, and all that is upon the earth that is subject to man ; but in matters of belief, in what belongs to the soul, to deal as with outward bodily things, such as our oxen, and houses, and yards — no! that is not to be suffered." Again he says, "I tell you again, neither pope, nor bishop, nor any man, has a right to put a single syllable upon a Christian man, unless it be done with his own free consent; and what is otherwise done, is done in the spirit of tyranny." The Lutheran church on the Continent has 200 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. always adhered to the spirit and letter of Luther's doctrine on this subject. Every province, and almost every congregation, has always had some peculiarity of its own in the forms of prayer and church observances — that is to say, in its liturgy and agenda — but all keeping strictly within the Lutheran doctrine and spirit. Between 1523 and 1555, there were no fewer than 132 liturgies, church services, or agenda in the Lutheran church, all approved of, and sanctioned by the civil authorities of the land, and all strictly Lutheran, although differing in the- order, forms, obser- vances, or words. The Calvinistic church from the days of Calvin himself, had also its set forms as well as its extemporary prayer. The practical, eflect in the Lutheran church was that the sermon and the preacher's prayer at opening, and again at closing it, were always considered, as in the Calvinistic church, the main part of the service, and the liturgy rather as a prepara- tory solemnizing of the mind for it. This view seems also to be retained by the English Independents who follow the forms of the Church of England service. Now a memorial of twelve ministers of Berlin,* (October 25th, 1825,) against the force put upon their religious convictions by the new liturgy, states as their objections to it and to the agenda promulgated with it, that this freedom of religious action within the bounds of the doctrine and spirit of Lutheranism, as established by Luther himself, is abro- gated. They are bound, they say, like the priests of the Romish or Anglican church, to a literal delivery of certain forms of prayer, not suited to many of their congregations — in short, to a mass. They say, that independently of the errors or discrepancies with Lutheran doctrine that may be found in the new liturgy, it is erected into a new independent service, which the liturgy never was before in the Lutheran church, distinct and separated alto- gether from the sermon. This mass is made the sum and sub- stance, and the sermon following it only an adjunct. This import- ance given to the mere ceremonial, they say, tends to catholicize the' minds of the people, to make the mere attendance on ceremo- nial form the most important religious duty in their minds. The ministers of the new church are prohibited in the agenda from occupying more than one hour in the whole service, and the * Bedenken von zwolf evangelischen Predigern in Berlin', so wie vom Ber- liner Magistrat als Patron verschiedener Kirchen-gemeinden, iiber die Ein- fuehrung der neuen Kirclien Agende. Leipsig, 1826. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 201 liturgy is to occupy one-half hour. The sermon consequently can scarcely have more than twenty or twenty-five minutes, which is totally insufficient, they assert, for conveying Christian instruction. They are also prohibited by the new agenda from using any introductory or concluding prayer to the sermon — the most im- portant and effective parts of the old service, both' in the Lutheran and Calvinistic church. The new service is, in short, two dis- tinct services — orie a formal mass, the other a sermon without the aid of prayer allowed to the preacher. They complain also that in this liturgy no part is allotted to the congregation. It con- tains about fourteen responses to be made by the choristers, who sing from a seat behind or near the altar, but the congregation has no more part in the new service than in a Roman Catholic high mass. The following is the order of the service in the new Prussian church. There is an altar railed in, and covered with an altar cloth. Two 'lighted wax candles and a crucifix stand upon the altar, and behind and around it are pictures of saints, and holy subjects, as in a Roman Catholic church. The only difference observable is, that the priest at the altar is in a plain black gown, instead of the embroidered robes in which the Catholic priest offi- ciates. He reads the new liturgy standing with his back against the altar, and facing the people. The amen to each prayer is finely quavered out by the choristers behind the altar, and the - « Halleluia," the " Holy, holy, holy," the " Glory to God in the highest," &c., are delivered with great musical effect, as might be expected in so musical a land. But, as justly objected to by the twelve ministers in their protest against this new service, the con- gregation have no part in all this, — are not made partakers, as in the former and in the English liturgies, in the act of' public wor- ship. They are but passive listeners, as to an opera. So little has it been intended that the congregation should take a part in this new service, that no books of the liturgy equivalent to the English Common Prayer-book are in their hands. The liturgy is for the clergymen only, and is not even to be got at the booksellers' shops. The only book of public worship in the hands of the congregation is the Gesang buch. This is a sort of Hynni- book in doggerel verse, which supersedes the Psalms of David and the paraphrases of portions of Scripture used in our church services. It is printed as prose, but each clause of a sentence is a 14 202 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. line rhyming to another clause. It is divided into sections and sentences, which are numbered; and the numbers being stuck up in conspicuous parts of the church, the congregation on entering sees what is to be sung without the minister or clerk giving out the place and verse. The whole part that the congregation has to take in the public worship by the new service is to sing or chaunt a portion of this Gesang buch with the accompaniment of the organ, before the minister comes to the altar to read the liturgy, and again in the interval between the liturgy and the sermon. This Gesang buch is not a collection of versions or paraphrases of any particular passages of the Old or New Testament,nor have its hymns the slightest reference to Scripture or any biblical allusion or phrase- ology. It is no doubt distilled from the Scriptures, but it carefully avoids giving any flavour of its origin. A Prussian congregation has as litde to do with the Bible as with the Koran, in the new church service, except that in the course of the liturgy a lesson of the day, as in the English service, is read from the New Testament: But as the whole liturgy, lesson and all, occupies but half an hour, and the congregation have neither Prayer-books nor Bibles in their hands, and have nothing but this Gesang buch, expressing no doubt religious sentiment, but with no reference to Scripture, it is evident that the intent has been to constitute this new service into some- thing like the Roman Catholic ceremonial mass, and to discourage the use of the Bible among the common people. The people have nothing but this Gesang buch as necessary in their public worship, and a meagre, childish composition it is — altogether unworthy of being the manual of devotion and of the public worship of edu- cated Christians. It is not to be denied that our Scotch version of the Psalms of David in metre is, if considered as poetical or metrical composition, but poor and rude ; yet it has, from anti- quity, use, and its close adherence to its original, a merit which a finer or more poetical version would probably want — it is better adapted to the ear and to the intelligence of the common man. It is often also worthy of its text, and, with all its poverty and quaint simplicity of metre, the poetry and feeling of the original psalm often shine through. But in this substitute for the Psalms of David in the new Prussian church, there is no scriptural basis whatsoever : it is a maudlin collection of sentiments, — pious, no doubt, but nowise scriptural ; and suitable rather for an infant school than for a congregation of grown-up Christians. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 203 Tlie German language is now so generally studied, that a spe- cimen of the Gesang buch will enable most readers to judge for themselves of this Prussian substitute for the Psalms of David. By giving its exact English synonyme below eacli German word, the English reader even may be able to form some idea of its style and merits: — XXXIV. 1. Jesus wir erscheinen hier* deine Sussigkeit zu schmecken I^ Jesus we appear here Ihy sweetness to taste ! deine Gnad erflehen wir'^ Herz und Ohren zu erwecken :'' dass wir deine thy grace solicit ' we heart and ears to awaken : that we thy Himmelslehren^' uns zum Trost mit Freuden horen.^^ heaven-teaching us to comfort with joy may hear. 2. Oehie deines Dieners Mund, gieb ihm d6ines Geistes Gaben, dass er Open thy servant's mouth, give him thy Spirit's gifts, that he mag aus Herzens-grund, mit des Wortes Kraft uns laben, und dass uns may out of heart-ground, with the word's power us refresh, and that us die Himmels-speise stark auf unser Pilger-reise. the lieaven-food may strengthen on our pilgrim-journey. 3. Dir dem Vater und dem Geist soil das Herz geheiligt werden, hilf To thee the Father and the Spirit shall the heart dedicated be, help nur dass wir allermeist uns erheben von der Erden, um mit innigen only that we most especially us raise from the earth, for with inward Verlangen deine Gaben zu empfangen. desire thy gifts to receive. Although printed in the original as prose, the words 4 and 12, 8 and 17, 21 and 27, in the first verse, rhyme together ; and in the same way in the other two verses of this hymn, each clause is a metrical line. Here is another taken by chance as a specimen : — CCVII. 1. Wir danken dir Herr Jesu Christ^ das du fur uns gestorbeu We thank thee Lord Jesus Christ that thou for us died bist'2 und unserer Sunden schwerer Last"' am Kreuz auf dich genommen hast, and of our sins the heavy load, on the cross upon thyself taken hast.23 Last. 2. Sohn Gottes und des Menschen Sohn, verherrliched nun nacli Son of God and of man son, glorified now after Schniach und Hohn, erlijs uns von dem ewigen Tod, und trost uns in contempt and scorn, deliver us from the eternal death, and comfort us in den letsten Noth. the last necessity. 3. reich uns deine starke Hand in unserem Kreuz und Prufungs- O reach to us thy strong hand, in our cross and trial situa- sland, damit anch wir geduldig seyn; uns trosten deine Kreuzens- tion, that thereby also we patient be; us comfort thy sufl'erings on pein. the cross. 204 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 4. Zu dir stelit unsre Zuversiclit du werdest uns veiiassen nicht, mit To thee stands our confidence, thou wilt us leave not, with deiner Gnade bei uns stehen bis wir zu deinem Reich eingehen. ■ thy grace by us stand until we to thy kingdom go in. In this, the words 6 and 12, and 17 and 23, in tlie first ver^e, end metrical lines, and make a sort of doggerel rhyme, and the same takes place in the other three verses. The first of these two hytnns, or whatever they may be called, stands mider the rubric — '' Of Christian worship of God ;" the second, number 207, under that of — "Of the sufferings and death of Jesus:" and of 49 such hymns, or sections of rhyming prose, under this head in the Gesang buch, not one makes any nearer allusion to, or gives any more knowledge of" the sufferings and death of Jesus'' than this specimen. The sentiments of this composition are no doubt un- objectionable ; but such nursery hymns or rhymes are infinitely below the intellectual pitch of our uneducated common people, and appear at once lamentable and ludicrous, when we consider that such is the only manual of public worship in the hands of the most highly and generally educated people in Europe — this the equivalent in their public worship for the Book of Common Prayer of the English people, and the Bible and Psalms of David of the Scotch. The new Prussian church service approaches certainly in its forms much nearer to the Lutheran than to the Calvinistic church ; and even the twelve Lutheran ministers of Berlin who protest against its tendency seem to have found no very great discrep- ancy with the old liturgy. The Calvinistic church is much more hardly dealt with by its subjection to a religious service of mere form. The greatest opposition, however, to the new church has arisen from the Lutherans. This is inherent in all religious dis- sentions — the slighter the difference the greater the discordance and acrimony. It is inherent in human nature. Where differ- ences are really inconsiderable, the violence done to our free moral agency by enforcing a conformity is the more revolting to the human mind. The will that controls our freedom is not disguised under any plea of importance in the object to be attained. The recourse to armed force, to the dismissal of functionaries suspected of favouring the old ritual, to all the usual modes of compulsion in arbitrary governments to enforce conformity, had the usual consequences of religious persecution — the calling forth NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 205 new and unexpected zeal and opposition, A new sect of Old Lutherans, as they called themselves, sprang up ; that is to say, the Lutherans who were at first in a state of great indifference about the new church, were roused by the persecution for en- forcing a conformity in trifling observances, and fell back with new-born zeal upon the old original doctrines and church ob- servances of Lutheranism. Their congregations, which had been reckoned by the court-clergy as belonging to and embodied with the new Prussian church without asking their consent, repndiated such a junction. There was a considerable teaction towards "the good old times" of narrow, almost papistical observance of forms and usages as all-important in religion. The Puseyite was abroad in Prussia, as in England; and with the advantage in Prussia, that he had persecution aiding his cause, while our go- vernment, unluckily for zealots, lets them sleep themselves out in peace and neglect. The Prussian government might have been pleased with this retrograde step to the spirit of the 16th century; for in bringing forward its new church, the avowed object was to raise a bul- wark against the modern spirit of religious freedom, and to re- store "the good old times." But this revival could not be tole- rated, because it was an independent step of these Old Lutherans, and here government must originate every movement of the peo- ple. The government was consequently in the false position of acting in the spirit of this very party she was persecuting. In estimating the state of religion in Protestant Prussia, the practical tendency of the new service pointed out by the twelve ministers and by the magistracy of Berlin in their memorials against it, must be examined. The new service, as stated by them, cer- tainly does consist of two distinct, and in principle totally differ- ent and conflicting services. The one is a mass requiring a passive acceptance of the formal ceremonial prayer of the priest, without any mental effort of the congregation, and with as little devotional exercise or participation on their part as in the popish church; the other service is a sermon addressed altogether to the mind of the congregation, standing consequently upon a principle at variance altogether with that on which the other part of the service is founded. In the afternoon there is no service at the altar, no liturgical prayers as in the Church of England ; but there is a section of the Gcsang buch sung, the Lord's Prayer, a sermon, 206 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the Lord's Prayer again, and the blessing, and another portion of the Gesang buch sung, which constitute the evening service. This radical division in the church service appears to have formed a similar division in the religious state of the people. You see some going to church to hear the liturgy, and going out when it is finished as having gone through all that is essential in religious duties : others again are going in when the liturgy is over, or go to the evening service only, as the sermon, and not the ceremonial, is to them the essential. The junction of the two distinct prin- ciples in one service is as incongruous as it would be to bind the New Testament and Dr. Strauss's Life of Jesus in one volume. Rationalism is very generally preached after a church service requiring passive inertness of mind, and repose upon ceremonial forms of prayer as much as in the Church of Rome. The forced amalgamation of the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches into this third thing, neither Lutheran nor Calvinistic, and the abolition of the very name of the Protestant church in Prussia, is undoubtedly the most gratuitous, unhappy, and sense- less act of irresponsible despotism ever exercised over and sub- mitted to by a Christian people in civilized times. There is much in a name. With the abolition of the name of the Protestant religion, this government has effected what emperors and popes could not do — has nearly destroyed the Protestant religion itself in Germany, and with it almost all religion. The ancient liturgy of the Lutheran, the freely out-poured prayer of the Calvinist, being both silenced in the land, the mind of the great mass of the people had nothing Christian to hold by, nothing in religion ve- nerated as doctrines or practices of worship from former times, from respected associations with the sufferings or deeds of their forefathers. Infidelity, Deism, Straussism, and all the other forms and shapes which unbelief in Christianity can assume in the spe- culative, dreaming German mind, have had free play. Protest- antism as a church, and even as a name, being abolished in Prus- sia, Christianity was left for its defences to the antiquated bulwark of the Roman Catholic faith. The middle ground between gross superstition and gross infidelity, on which the two Protestant churches were planted, was seized for state purposes to build this new Prussian church upon. The spread in the same age, of Catholicism on one liand, and of infidelity on the other — the Catholic priest making converts on one side of the street, and Dr. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 207 Strauss on the other — shows a religious condition of the German people, which the traveller finds as unaccountable as it is unde- niable, until he traces it as a natural consequence of this act of his late Prussian majesty, which cast loose at once all the ties which had held the public mind fast for three centuries to one or other of the two Protestant churches. In the two distinct services tacked together in this new Prussian church, that which addresses itself to the mind of the congrega- tion, the sermon, is by no means left in free action. It is not only shorn of its introductory and concluding prayers appropriate to the subject preached, and which the twelve ministers consider the most valuable privilege of their former Lutheran church from its beneficial effect on their congregations, and it is not only confined in time, by church rule given out by the state, to half an hour, but the text on which alone the ministers throughout all the kingdom are allowed to preach, is appointed on all fast days, or particular church days, by government — that is to say, it is given out to the ministers by the consistory of each province, of which consistory the head and president is the high president of the province, the equivalent functionary to the prefet com- manding in civil, military and ecclesiastical affairs, according to his orders from the general government. The consistory, synod, superintendents, and other ecclesiastical powers are administrative only on the Continent ; not deliberative, far less co-ordinate with the civil power in their functions. They only have in Prussia to give out, and distribute on such occasions, the Text ordered by the government. On ordinary Sundays the text is taken generally from the lesson of the day, or portion of Scripture read in the course of the liturgy — at least I always found it so, both in the morning and evening sermon. If it be a church rule, however, or only the consideration of the preacher that his congregation in general have no IJibles with them to refer to, and this portion being the last they have heard may be fresh in their memories, is uncertain. I ascribed it to the discretion of the preachers. As to the doctrines preached, the new Prussian church is un- derstood to be divided — as its servicers — into two distinct parties ; those who preach in the spirit of rationalism, and those who preach in the spirit of pietism. The Germans enrich their rich language by terms which express every modification of intellectual action. Pietism is not piety. It rather expresses mysticism, — the re- 208 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ceiving of the incomprehensible, as the popish and old Lutheran churches do, as matter of religious belief. Our Puseyites would be pietists in the German classification. Rationalism, again, is by no means infidelity, or free-thinking. This is only the extreme; as gross superstition and idolatry are the extreme of pietism. Rationalism in the pulpit seems applied to those who reject the value, importance, and efficacy of mere external ceremonies of reli- gious worship, and address themselves to the understanding, not to the blind feeling, or imagination. Our Scotch clergy would be all reckoned rationalists. The new Prussian church is founded on pietist principle,— on blind submission of the mind to forms of worship, and observances of ceremonials, prescribed by the state through its clerical functionaries ; and the new service is a mass, as far as regards the mind. The late king, the present, it is said, and, of course, all officers and functionaries about the court, are ' pietists. The public mind in general seems to have taken an opposite direction, and to have a tendency to rationalism in its extreme— that is, not merely to understanding what it is required to believe, and to undervaluing mere ceremonial religion, but to treating all religion with levity, indifference, or disbelief. Infi- delity and superstition are not incompatible. There is evidently a strong disposition to mysticism, to superstitious veneration of forms and ceremonies,, along with a great disregard of religious conduct, knowledge, or sentiment, in the Prussian people of the new Prussian church. The dispute of the Prussian government with the Roman Ca- tholic church arises from, and is a corollary of, the unwise inter- ference of the late king with the Protestant churches. The dis- pute is not understood in England. Of a population of fourteen millions in the Prussian dominions, five millions and a quarter, or about three-eighths of the whole, are Catholics. In mixed marriages formerly, in Prussia, the Catholic clergy interfered no more with the question, in what religion the parents should bring up the children, than they do now in Britain, America, or Swit- zerland, The matter was regulated by the discretion of the parents, and practically the male children usually followed the church of the father, and females that of the mother. MiXed marriages, also, in the middle or lower ranks of life were less common when Protestantism, in one or other of its branches, hedged in families, as it were, from familiar intercourse with those NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 209 not of their own religion; but when the Protestant rehgion was formally aboUshed in Prussia, and mixed marriages became fre- quent, the Popish clergy were not so much in the wrong in say- ing if these children are not brought up Catholics, they will be of no religion or form of Christian faith whatever ; and the state of religion among that part of the German population which had been Protestant, the rapid increase of Deism, Straussism, infi- delity, indifference, fully justified this apprehension. The Catho- lic population, as might be expected, espouse warmly the side of their clergy; and a great proportion of the rest of the people, be- come indifferent to religion, look upon the claim of the Catholic church in mixed marriages with favour. It is not a question of the right of parents to bring up and educate their children accord- ing to their own judgment. The feeling of all individual right and civil independence is weakened, and that parental right in particular is infringed upon, and all parents are more of less de- prived of it by the Prussian educational system. It is a question, in reality, between a despotic government and the Catholic church, which shall have the mastery and control in bringing up the children of mixed marriages ; and the Catholics, the parents, and the liberal party very generally espouse the side of the Popish church, as less of an interference with people as moral beings and free agents, irf their private family arrangements, than the con- trol of the Prussian state. It is one thing, they say, to have the clergyman stepping into your house to advise, exhort, entreat, force you by every moral influence, to educate your children ac- cording to his views of what is right; it is another to have the public functionary intruding into your family management, fining you for your child's absence from school, if the educational func- tionaries think he should have been there, and judging of your conduct, motives, and arrangements, as head of your own family. This natural feeling of opposition to the most arbitrary moral despotism ever imposed on a civilized people, the interference of the educational system of Prussia with paternal judgment and free-agency in family management,— an interference far more demoralizing to the human mind than the ignorance of the arts of reading and writing, — strengthens the side of the Catholic clergy with a portion of the liberal interest. Catholicism is, in fact, the only barrier at present in Prussia against a general and debasing despotism of the state over mind and action. 210 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. The Catholic population of Prussia has, besides, its separate grievances to complain of. The primary or other low schools may have Catholic schoolmasters where the majority of the in- habitants are Catholic ; but where they are mixed, and less than a majority, although very numerous, and the Catholic population is much mixed in that way in some districts, they must send their children to be taught by schoolmasters of a different faith ; and for higher education, they complain that no proportionable or suitable provision is made. Two universities, Bonn and Breslau, are mixed universities, in which Catholic professors and students are on an equal footing with Protestants. But this is considered no adequate provision for the higher education of the upper classes of five millions of people, of whom 1,750,000 inhabiting the Rhenish provinces are the most industrious, enterprising, and wealthy of the subjects of Prussia, They complain, too, that Catholicsr are not impartially dealt with in advancement to the higher functions under government; that scarcely a Catholic colonel of a regiment can be found in the military establishment of the country, or as the chief of a department or bureau in the civil. This seems no unreasonable complaint, considering that the Catliolic population of Prussia exceeds the whole population of some Protestant kingdoms, — of Scotland, Sweden, Denmark, Hanover, Saxony, or Wirtemburg ; but this very Sxclusion from office, if true, is perhaps the cause, in a great measure, of the superior industry and advance in trade and manufacture of the Rhenish provinces. A more justly felt, and to Catholic feelings more revolting grievance, is, that the youth studying for the priesthood in the Ca- tholic church are subject,iike other young men, to serve for three years (commutable by special favour to one year) in a regiment of the line ; and the only exemption in their favour is, that they may be allowed to postpone the commencing their military ser- vice until their twenty-fifth year; and then, if they have actually become members of the priesthood, and have taken sub-deacon's orders, they are exempt altogether : but all depending upon the good finding of a commission of Protestant military functionaries. The clerical student in our Protestant church follows a course of study, and of life, which fits him for every social duty, as much as or more than other men ; and if military or other social duty is required by the state, no good reason can be shown why he NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 211 should be exempt more than other citizens, if he have no clerical, duties, or status in the church. But the Catholic priest must be bred from infancy to his vocation, like a little girl to the duties of her sex, — must be bred like a female to abstinence, chastity, purity, self-denial of all appetites and indulgences, and kept, like the well-brought-up female, in ignorance of the vice and mental contamination familiar to men. To put a man so bred into the ranks of a regiment, and to live in barracks and guard-rooms for three years, or one year, or even one day, is demoralizing the individual, and tainting the purity of mind required for his pecu- liar social position as a popish priest devoted to a life of celibacy; and whether that position be right or wrong on religious, social, or moral grounds, it is tyranny in a government to disregard what its subjects do regard. These are but trifles ; but that such trifles are complained of by more than a third of the whole popu- lation of the country, shows that Prussia carries a Catholic Ireland in her bosom. It shows, too, that governments which seek to extend their powers beyond the legitimate objects for which government is established in human society,— the protection of person and property, and the regulation of the material interests of men for the general good, — and to embrace within their autho- rity the religious, moral, and intellectual action of the human mind . by state establishments, and state interference in religious educa. tion and free agency, stand upon dangerous ground, and exist only by the patience of the people. CHAPTER VIII. NOTES ON THE PRUSSIAN EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM CONTINUED.— ITS ^ EFFECTS ON THE SOCIAL AND MORAL CONDITION AND CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. The voice of history in praise or reproach of kings is not heard amidst the whispers of courtiers, or the hurra of armies. Her note comes to the ear of posterity from the cottage and the foot- path of tlie common man. The upper and educated classes in Prussia live upon the industry of the people entirely, by the ap- pointments under the government, either as military officers, civil functionaries, clerical or educational officials ; or if they derive their living direct from the people, and not from the hand of government, still they derive the privilege to exercise this means of living, be it in the law, in riiedicine, in trade, or any branch of industry, from the constituted authorities. These classes are loud enough in their adulation of the government of the late monarch, and of the social economy of Prussia, — of its military system, its educational system, its functionary system, and of all that emanates from the higher powers. No wonder. They are strangers to individual free agency in society, and they hold their appointments and means of living, and look for their bread, or that of their children, from the hand of government. Their voice alone is heard in the literary world on Prussian education, religion, social economy and affairs : and their voice is one shout of praise. But the future historian of this age, judging from purer sources, from facts and principles, will regard the Prussian social economy estab- lished by the late monarch as an attempt, now that the power of the sword and of brute force in civilized communities is gone, to raise up an equally despotic, irresponsible power of government, by enslaving the habits, mind, and moral agency of the people through an educational, military, and religious training, and a system of perpetual surveillance of functionaries over every indi- vidual from his cradle to his grave. The attempt will probably fail, because it involves inconsistencies. It is a struggle of contra- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 213 dictions. A rigid censorship of tlie press, and a general education of the people ; a religious population, and an interference of go- vernment with, and a subversion by its edicts of, the religious observances, forms, and prayers of a church for which their fore- fathers had shed their blood in the battle-field ; a moral people, and an intermeddling of the hand of government in the free action of man as a moral agent, in the sanctity of family duty and manage- ment, and during the most precious period of human life for forming the moral habits and character, — a barrack-room education for all classes; a wealthy and happy people, and a ruinous yearly demand upon that time and labour out of which alone national wealth and well-being can grow, for the sake of an idle and unfounded display at reviews and parades of a military strength not efficient, in reality, from the nature of its materials, for military purposes; — these are incompatibilities which even Prussian discipline cannot make to march together. The reign of the late monarch will be re- garded as an attempt to hold fast by autocratic irresponsible power; but to shift the ground which supported it from sheer military force to a power founded somewhat like the Chinese, the Mahometan, or the Russian, upon the education, habits, and religion of the people, — all of which were to be Prussian, under the guidance of government, and subservient to its support. He will be judged of by posterity as a well-meaning, but weak man, tenacious of what he deemed power (as all weak men are), and which (as is often the case) was in reality not power ; who forfeited his word to his people to give them a constitution, and who had a people as abject as he was autocratic. He came out of severe trial and adversity untaught by it, forgetful of the struggle made for him by his subjects upon his promise of giving them a representative constitution ; and he has bequeathed to his successors a social economy of his own construction, full of inconsistencies and false principles. There are men even in England, and they abound on the Continent, who deem it a social, almost a moral duty, to see nothing wrong in the doings of kings, to laud every act and every character clothed in royal authority. Our middle classes do not partake in this indiscriminating love for the purple. The distance of social position, like the distance of time, enables them — and they constitute the great body of our intelligent thinking public — to form an historical judgment of the men and events of their own times. They'judge now, as posterity will judge hereafter. They will 214 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. judge that the late Prussian monarch, — the lauded, the almost worshipped by our aristocracy and clergy, as the best, the wisest, the most conservative, the most anti-revolutionary monarch of our age, — has overturned the Protestant religion, and shaken Chris- tianity itself, by his ultra-conservative zeal to establish the basis of his autocracy on the religion of the people. What would those lords, and squires, and clergy say, if a king and irresponsible cabinet among us were to put down the Churches of England and Scotland, and to impose on the people by royal edict a selection of Mrs. Barbauld's prayers and hymns, instead of the time- honoured liturgy of the former church, and the spirit-awakening effusions of the latter ? This is precisely what has been done in Prussia. Mrs, Barbauld's nursery prayers and hymns are, as devotional compositions, quite as near to the excellence of the admirable old liturgy, or to the Psalms of David, as the compo- sitions of Dr. Eylert and Dr. Neander, although aided, it is said, by the royal pen itself in some of the prayers, and of the doggerel ditties of the Gesang-buch. The Kurie Eleaison, and other operatic quaverings in the new service, are, it is said, borrowed from the Greek church, the late king having, when on a visit to Russia, been much pleased with those parts of the Greek service. The one point for political philosophy is, that this act is the act of the pattern king of the Continental governments, whose reign is held up by all the conservative interests on the Continent as a signal and undeniable proof that irresponsible autocratic power vested in the monarch, and all legislation emanating from the royal authority alone, without any constitutional representation of the people in the legislature, are compatible with the utmost good government, the utmost physical, moral, and religious well-being of society. The other great point is, that this is the people whose educa- tional system, spirit, and institutions are held up as a model by the liberal, the pious, the benevolent of other countries, who are anxious for the diffusion of education ; but who mistake the means for the end, the almost mechanical arts of reading and writing for the moral elevation of character which education should produce. The page of history does not supply another example so striking as this of the deteriorating influence of arbitrary, irresponsible power, both on the ruler and the ruled. It cannot be doubted that the late monarch was an amiable, well-meaning NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 215 by all who approached him. The more the historian gives on this side, the more he must take on the other. The mere possession in modern society of this irresponsible, unchecked, autocratic power in legislation, brings this good and popular sovereign into the luien- viable historical fame of having overturned religion in Germany, and of having established a social, moral, and religious vassalage over his people. History will have her day of judgment, and will judge public men by their public acts. She will hear the cry of the victims, said to have been 2966 individuals, suffering for their religions or political opinions, and pardoned on the death of this good and amiable sovereign by an act of amnesty of his suc- cessor. History will ask, what where the crimes of these persons (whatever their numbers may have really been, a secret probably only known to government)? What rebellions, what treasons, what tumults occurred in this reign ? Or were they the victims of their free expression of opinions, — torn from their families and homes, imprisoned, condemned, banished, because they presumed to, remind their sovereign of the natural and constitutional rights of the people, and of the royal promise to restore those natural rights to a representation in the legislature; a promise given in the hour of need, and broken in the hour of prosperity ? Or was it their crime that they conscientiously opposed an arbitrary and un- necessary change in the Protestant religion as handed down to them by their forefathers? History will have her day of judgment; nor will her judgment of the sovereign be biassed by the private virtues or amiable qualities of the man ; nor by the adulation of a people trained to crouch before their master, and lick the hand that smites. The abject submission of mind to all authority, the suspension of judgment on public acts, and the adulation of all royal personages, are natural effects on the ruled of the unmixed, irresponsible, autocratic power in the ruler. The popularity of the ruler in such a condition of society is founded on his private personal character, not on his public acts; and the fine terms of beloved, adored, patriotic, beneficent, applied to the monarch, are words of form by which the judgment of history will not be swayed. But, in stating the evil of this reign, the good should not be overlooked. It broke the oppressive feudal vassalage of the peasantry under the nobles, and has raised their condition physic- ally and morally. If a heavy military burden be laid upon the 216 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. people, — if they have, in effect, only changed masters, and their time, labour, and free action in industry be now as much absorbed by the state and its functionaries as formerly by their local feudal lords, still the yoke is easy which all bear the weight of equally. Let it not be forgotten, too, that the freedom of mind in intellectual, political, and even religious action, and the freedom of person and property in industrial action, are not felt as essential wants in a state of society in which the people have no intellectual or industrial activity. A few of the upper and cultivated glasses only are in a social condition to feel restrictions, such, for instance, as those on the press, which all men, in our social condition, would fly from or rise against, as insupportable oppression. The good of the late king's reign,— the emancipation of the peasantry, — the promise, at least, of a representative constitution, — the removal of many old restrictions on trade, — and the introducing of many useful establishments, belong undoubtedly to the monarch himself — to the good-hearted, benevolent, well-meaning king. The evil of his reign, — the perpetual drain on the time and labour of the people for military service,— the attempt to make education, reli- gion, and all social movement subservient to the support of a go- vernment system, — the centralization in the hands of functiona- ries of all affairs of society, — and the interference of government with matters which are beyond the legitimate objects of govern- ment in any free enlightened state of society, may be ascribed to the influence of men around the throne, disinterested, perhaps, and sincere, but not en4ightened, or advancing with the age ; bred in function, and seeing the interests of the people through a false medium. With enlightened men, as Stein and Hardenberg, for his ministers, the late king was an enlightened ruler ; with bigots about him, he was a bigot ; with functionaries, a functionarist. There is no inconsistency between the first part of his reign and the last: he was evidently a good, well-meaning, weak man, led this way and that by each successive band of functionaries he employed. The whole shows impressively the working of irre- sponsible power on the minds of the ruler and the ruled. The intermeddling with the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches, and the unhappy attempt — unhappy for the Protestant religion in every country — to set up a third intermediate church, may be traced to the love of concentrated power over all things inherent in the functionarism which guides the Prussian state, combined NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, 217 with the system adopted in all the governments of the Continent, — of governing on juste milieu principle, of avoiding any decided mode of action, and of always taking some third conrse between two. Ancillon, who had been private tutor to the late king, and who died prime minister in 1S35, published a work in 1S2S, upon Vermittelung der Extreme — Mediation between Extremes. In a number»of essays on moral, political, and literary subjects, he lays down the extreme opinions upon each side — as, for instance, on the classical and romantic schools of literature ; and deduces from the absurdity of each extreme the truth of the old saying — "in medio tutissimus ibis." There is a saying, however, quite as old, and much more generally true — " there are but two waj'-s of doing a thing, the right and the wrong." It is the policy, or reasoning of weak minds that seeks a middle way between. In religion, in morals, in politics, as in mathematics, n. juste 7nilieic is a nonentity. Morally, and intellectually, there is no middle point between true and false, right and wrong; and practically, no attainment between hit and miss. There is no neutral ground in religion, none in morals, and none in sound politics. When governments attempt to extend their power beyond the legitimate object for which government is established in society, and would embrace the intellectual, moral, and religious concerns, as well as the material interests of their subjects, they are obliged to adopt a middle course between the extreme of power they would usurp, and the innate principle in the human mind of resistance to power over intellectual action. This middle course, founded on no principle but the evasion of applying principle to action, has been the line of policy of Continental statesmen during this half century. We have seen the principle applied at home, and sig- nally fail in the hands of able men, and in a popular cause — in the whole management and results of the Parliamentary Reform Bill in the hands of the late Whig ministry. The common ^ense of the people would accept of no trimming between right and wrong in a great measure. If the measure and its principle were right, they ought to have been followed out, and not sacrificed to any secondary or partial interests. The concession to Tory party power, — the attempt to find a middle point between right and wrong, to settle the constitution ui)on a fog bank, neither land nor water,— the attempt at a juste miliet(, in short, between 15 218 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. reform and no reform, disgusted the nation, ruined tiie liberal ministry, and for a moment has injured the cause itself. In Prussia we see the same results from governing on juste milieu principle in an opposite direction of policy ; in attempting to govern in matters beyond the legitimate limits of government — in the religion of the people. That government exists in so- ciety for the people, not the people for the government, is ad- mitted in our social economy, but not in the social economy of the Continent. It is practically the reverse in Prussia ; yet here the juste milieu principle, applied to uniting the two Protestant churches into one for governmental support, has failed when applied to the human mind; it has upset the Protestant religion in Germany — has opened the door to popery and to infidelity, as the only two asylums from arbitrary interference with independ- ent religious opinion, and has at last run up those who still adhere to the Protestant faith to a state of excitement and fanaticism — to the extravagant doctrines and feelings of the age of the first reformers. It is said the new sovereign sees this false position, ai^d intends to try back, and to abolish this mongrel Prussian church. But this is but conjecture, for in this highly educated land the people are only made acquainted with the intentions of their own govern- ment through foreign newspapers. In consequence of some para- graph in the Augsburg Algemeine Zeitung — a Bavarian news- paper, in which the intentions of the Prussian government are sometimes made known — a change in the present church is sup- posed to be in ' contemplation ; and pamphlets on both sides, by Prussian subjects, are printed abroad, at Hamburg, or Leipsic, and smuggled in for the information of the comitry.* This is the state of instruction upon their own religious aifairs, and this the means of information and discussion on their own most important interests, among a people boasting of being the most generally and highly educated in Europe, — whose educa- tional institutions, indeed, we are told by our divines, philosophers, and politicians, are a model for all other civilized countries, and the most efficient ever devised for the intellectual development, and the religious and moral advancement of society. Owing to the censorship of the press, and the consequent want * For instance, Die in Preussen beabsichtigte Aufhebung der Kirchligen Union. &c., von einem alt Preussen. Printed at Hamburg, 1841. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 219 of interest in, as well as of information upon, the affairs of the country, the people in Prussia seldom talk home news or politics, and arc as ignorant as in Turkey of what is doing by their own government. Foreign newspapers — those of Leipsic, Hamburg, Frankfort, or Augsburg— give them the first intelligence on their own affairs. The persecution of the poor villagers in Silesia who adhered to the Lutheran church, was, of course, not a matter to be hinted at in Prussian newspapers ; and the circumstances would perhaps never have been known beyond the immediate neighbour- hood of the sufferers, if the Prussian government could have im- posed silence on others, as well as on its own subjects. As the latest, if not the last, of religious persecutions in Europe in civilized times, some minuteness in thedetailof the circumstances of it may be satisfactory, or will, at least, show how, in highly educated countries, persecution is carried on. The amalgamation of the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches, and the introduction of the new liturgy and church service, or agenda, met with a passive resistance everywhere. In vain royal edicts assured the people that no change in their religious belief, and no restraint on the freedom of conscience, were involved in the new service. The ministers in Silesia considered the attempt itself to assimilate the Lutheran and Calvinistic churches danger- ous to the pure Lutheran doctrine, and openly declared that no earthly power had a right to interfere with freedom of religion and conscience. The parish of Hermannsdorf, under its minister the pastor Berger, and the parish of Hoenigern, consisting of ten villages, under its pastor Kellner, refused obedience to the order of the consistory to introduce the new service, and continued to use the old liturgy and service, and to receive the sacrament ac- cording to the old Lutheran formulary — it is the body and blood of Christ. The people flocked from far and near to these genuine old Lutheran preachers. The consistory of Breslau ordered pastor Bergerto administer the sacrament alternately according to the new and the old service. He refused any such compromise of con- science, any such juste milieu in his religious persuasion and duty, and was consequently suspended. In the great parish of Hoenigern, pastor Kellner adopted measures for a more powerful opposition. Before the arrival of the commissioners of the con- sistory, he surrendered the church keys, and church property, into the hands of 40 elders chosen from the congregation, who received 220 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the commission with their minister at their head, singing psahns, and who gave a decided No to the question if they would receive the new Uturgy and agenda. The commissioners were not ad- mitted into the church ; and when they pronounced a sentence of suspension against Kellner, he protested against their authority as not representing the true Lutheran church by law established in the land. Kellner and his elders were arrested and imprisoned at Breslau ; but when the minister appointed as his successor came to perform the church service according to the new agenda, he found the church doors nailed, and a crowd of people obstructing the entrance. On the 20th December, 1834, a body of 400 in- fantry, 50 hussars, and 50 cuirassiers, marched from Breslau to this recusant parish of Hoenigern. The civil and clerical authori- ties again tried in vain to induce the people to accept the new ser- vice. Their elders and pastor had been twelve weeks in prison, but they continued obstinate ; and, at last, on Christmas eve, the military took possession of the church, forced open the door by a petard, and dispersed the people by a charge of cavalry, in which some twenty persons were wounded. The interim minister was thus intruded into the church, and the new service was performed on Christmas day, but it was to a congregation of soldiers only; for not one parishioner was to be seen in the church. It was necessary to resort to other measures to obtain a real congregation for the new service and the stormed parish church. The military were stationed in the villages of the parish, and each recusant house-holder was punished by having ten or twelve soldiers quar- tered on him. The soldiers themselves were to exhort their land- lords to go to the church, that they might be relieved from the ruinous quartering of men upon them, and those who would not conform were exposed to gross ill-usage. These are the peasants, who, ruined by this persecution, sought a refuge in America. The diffusion of education may be great in Prussia ; but its influences have certainly not yet reached the governing class in the community : for these are scenes, persecutions, and principles of royal power, more like the history of the religious persecutions in Scotland and England under the Stewart family two hundred years ago, than events not four years old, among the most edu- cated people in Europe, and in which their government itself took the initiative and the gratuitous perpetration. If such be the state of intelligence of the educating governing NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 221 class in Prussia upon the simple point of religious toleration, one looks with curiosity to the state of intelligence upon religion, of this governed, educated people. Among all the aberrations from true religion, and often from common sense, of the countless sects our uneducated people are divided into, (including even Johanna Southcote's followers, the Mormorites, Socialists, and the thousand others which appear and disappear amidst our freedom of all religious opinions,) no aberration from the laws of morality, decency, or admitted social virtue, has ever been able to exist. All will be good and religious in their way ; and it is only in their way and ideas of being reli- gious, not in their way and ideas of being good, that they ditler. Left to act and think for themselves, the people may take differ- ent speculative doctrines in religion ; but in the practical doctrines which have a reference to real life, the public mind with us is well-educated, and takes invariably the one moral doctrine appli- cable to social affairs. In Prussia, the people, not accustomed to act or think for themselves, are like children escaping from school, and rush into speculations in religion, politics and morals, altogether absurd in the estimation of the more highly-educated public mind of this country, accustomed to apply principle to action as free agents in all social movement. In this way one must account for the singular fact, that the only positively immo- ral religious sect of the present times in the Christian world, arose, and has spread itself in the most educated part of the most edu- cated country in Europe— in and about Konigsberg, the capital of the province of Old Prussia. The Muckers are a sect who combine lewdness with religion. The name. Mucker, is said to be derived from a local or sporting term, indicating the rutting season of hares. The conventicles of this sect are frequented by men and women in a state of nudity ; and to excite the animal passion but to restrain its indulgence, is said to constitute their religious exercise. Many of the highest ngbility of the province, and two of the established clergy of the city, besides citizens, artificers, and ladies, old and young, belong to this sect ; and two young ladies are stated to have died from the consequences ot excessive libidinous excitement. It is no secret association ol profligacy shunning the light. It is a sect, according to the decla- rations of Von Tippelskirch, and of several persons of conside- ration in Konigsberg who had been followers of it themselves, 222 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. existing very extensively under the leadership of the established ministers of the Gospel, Ebel and Diestel, of a Count Von Kaniz, of a lady Von S , and of other noble persons, and of several of the citizen class ; and it appears that a great part of the nobility of the province belong to it. The notice of the government was first attracted to its existence by a complaint to the consistory, of a Count Von Fink, who had been a zealous member of the sect, that the minister Ebel, one of the pastors of the city, and who is one of its leaders, had attempted to seduce his wife under the pretext of procreating a Messias. The consistory appointed two commissioners to examine, and report to government upon this business. The system and theory of this dreadful combina- tion of vice with religion are of course very properly suppressed. All that can be gathered from the AUgemeinen Kirchenzeitung of 1836, and the historical writings of that year, is that this horri- ble sect was spread so widely that the official people were them- selves slow in the investigation of the matter, and that the count- ess who had disclosed the practices of the sect was in danger from their fury, and had to be protected by the police — that a very strict hierarchy existed in the sect, that it was divided in three classes, and that the apprenticeship in the first class must be accom- plished before the reception into the second class : and that the strictest trials were required for being admitted into the third class, of which the members were called by a name of honour — that the doctrine and practice of the Muckers were a mixture of mysticism and gnosticism, of fanaticism and lust; and that the heroes and heroines who had sustained the trials of their conti- nence, or power over the flesh, were rewarded with the seraphim k^s, with which the most abominable excesses were connected. The government wisely suppressed the examinations and pro- ceedings, although copies of some of the first official reports and depositions had got into circulation among the curious, and the case was transferred from the local courts of the province to Ber- lin for further consideration in 1837, but nothing since has been made known to the public on the subject. The sect itself appears by Dr. Bretschneider's account of it, to have been so generally diffused, that he says, "It cannot be believed that the public functionaries were in ignorance of its existence, but that they were afraid to do their duty from the influence of the many prin- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 223 cipal people who were involved in it."* In his honest indigna- tion he proposes as the only means of extirpating it, that all reli- gious meetings, all conventicles, missionary societies, religious tract societies, and in short all pious doings of the public among them- selves, should be put down by the state. This remedy is a little too Prussian, dreadful as the enormity is, in a civilized country, of such a sect having existed in this age. It is only in the history of Otaheite that its parallel can be found. A great deal of delusion on the subject of national education has arisen from confounding the means with the end — the admira- ble means for diffusing reading, writing, and such acquirements, first adopted on the great scale by the Prussian government, with the end and object of education — the raising the religious, moral, and social character of men as intellectual free agents. It is only by free institutions in society that the moral, religious, and intel- lectual endowments of the human^mind are exercised and edu- cated. The mere operations of reading and writing, nay, the acquisition of knowledge itself, are but the means, not the end. and, if carried even to the utmost perfection, do not necessarily exercise and educate the moral powers of the human mind — the judgment, the self-restraint, the self-government, the application of principle to action and of action to principle in our social rela- tions. We see every day in individuals that the mental powers and the moral and religious principle are in a very low, unculti- vated state, although education, in its ordinary sense, has done its utmost, and reading, writing, languages, accomplishments, and knowledge have been extensively acquired. There is, in reality. a social education of the hmnan mind, more important than its scholastic education, and not at all necessarily coiniected with it. This, the only true national or general education of a people, can only be given where man is a free agent living under social insti- tutions in which he acts for himself, politically and morally, and applies by himself, and not by the order and under guidance of the state or its functionaries, the principles of justice, law, morality, religion, which should guide his conduct as a member of society. This exercise, or education of the human mind, is wanting in the * See Dr. Karl Venturini's Neue Historische Schriften, Brunswick, 1839; also Algemeiiie Kirclien/eitun;L', Jahr, 1836, No. 50 ; also Pragmatische Ges- chichte unserer Zeit, das Jahr, 1835: Leipsic, 1837; for what is known to the public respecting the Muckers. x 224 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. social economy of Prussia, in wiiich men are in a state of pupil- age as members of society, and not of free agency. No amount of scholastic education, of reading, writing or information, can make up for this want of moral self-education by the free exer- cise of the individual's judgment in all the social relations of life. It is thus that the existence of this sect of the Muckers among the most highly educated, that is, scholastically educated people in Europe, must be accounted for. Their school acquirements have had no influence on their moral state — or rather have had a pernicious influence on it, as being a part of a social system in which the human mind is dormant, is trained to act without think- ing, and under orders, instead of exerting its own judgment and exercising free -agency and reflection in its own moral, religious, and social affairs. In true moral social education, the Prussian people, from the nature of their government and social economy, necessarily stand lower than the lowest of our own unlettered population. In the importance attached to the Prussian arrangements or means for diffusing scholastic education, there is also much delu- sion. Reading, writing, arithmetic, and all other scholastic ac- quirements follow evidently the same law as all other human wants — the demand will produce the supply. Create a demand for such acquirements, for knowledge, for educated labour of any kind, and people will educate themselves up to that demand. The reduction of the postage in Britain has created this demand with us, has given to such acquirements a value almost entirely want- ing before, in the position of the labouring man ; and this mea- sure is bringing out the schoolmaster without the machinery of national arrangements for education. The social value or import- ance of the Prussian , arrangements for diffusing national scho- lastic education has been eviden|;ly overrated ; for now that the whole system has been in the fullest operation in society upon a whole generation, we see morals and religion in a more unsatis- factory state in this very country than in almost any other in the north of Europe ; we see no where a people in a more abject political and civil condition, or with less free agency, in their social economy, A national education which gives a nation neither religion, nor morality, nor civil liberty, nor political liberty, is an education not worth having. Truly, much humbug has been played off by literary men — NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 225 unwittingly, no doubt, for they themselves were sincere dupes — upon the pious and benevolent feelings of the European public, with regard to the excellence of the Prussian educational system. They have only looked at the obvious, almost mechanical, means of diffusing instruction, viz., schools for teaching the people to read and write, and have, in their estimate and recommendation of the means, altogether overlooked the all-important circumstan- ces that, if these means are not in free action, they will not pro- duce the end— the moral and religious improvement of the people — and that the almost mechanical arts of reading and writing may be acquired with as little moral, religious, or even intellect- ual improvement of the human mind, as the mamial and platoon exercise. In their admiration of the wheels and machinery, these literary men have forgotten to look under the table, and see what kind of web all this was producing. Who could suppose, Avhile reading pamphlets, reviews, and literary articles out of num- ber on national education, and on the beautiful system, means, and arrangements adopted by Prussia for educating the people, and while lost in admiration in the educational labyrinth -of country schools and town schools— common schools and high schools— real schools — and classical schools —gymnasia — progymnasia— normal schools — seminariums — universities — who could suppose that with all this education no use of education is allowed — that while reading and writing are enforced upon all, thinking and the com- munication of thoughts are prevented by an arbitrary censorship of the press, sometimes strict, sometimes lax ? Who could sup pose that tiie only visible use to the people of Prussia of all this national education is, in reality, to write out official, civil, or military reports from inferiors to superiors — that it enters in no other way into their social affairs? Who could suppose, at the very period Victor Cousins, the Edinburgh Reviewers, and so many other eminent literary men of all countries were extolling tlic national education and general acquirement of reading in Prussia, and kindling around them a holy and truly virtuous enthusiasm among the moral and religious — for the diffusion of knowledge in all countries— that the exercise of worship any- where but in a church was pro]iibited and made criminal in Prus- sia by an edictal law dated the 9th March, 1834 ; and that many persons suffering imprisonment, civil disabilities, or other punish- ments for this Prussian crime of worshipping God in their own 226 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. houses, were only liberated and pardoned by the amnesty of August, 1840 ? Who could suppose that while the praises of the educational system of the Prussian government were resounding in our senate and our pulpits, this educating government was driving by religious persecution from her educated land upwards of 600 Christians, who went from Silesia to the wilds of America simply to enjoy the privileges of religious freedom, and of communicating at the altar according to the forms and doctrines of Luther or Cal- vin, rather than of his late Majesty ? Who could suppose that while literary men were extolling the high educational state of Prussia, her moral state stood so low that such a sect as the* Muckers could not only exist in the most educated of her pro- vinces, but could flourish openly, and number among its mem- bers, clergy, nobility, and educated and influential people ? These writers had evidently been deceiving themselves and the public; had looked no further than to the means of education ; and had hastily concluded that these means must necessarily be producing the end. If to read, write, cipher, and sing, be education, they are quite right— the Prussian subject is an educated man. If to reason, judge, and act as an independent free agent, in the reli- gious, moral, and social relations of man to his Creator, and to his fellow-men, be that exercise of the mental powers which alone deserves the name of education, then is the Prussian subject a mere drum-boy in education, in the cultivation and use of all that regards the moral and intellectual endowments of man, compared to one of the unlettered popiflation of a free country. The dor- mant state of the public mind on all affairs of public interest, the acquiescence in a total want of political influence or existence, the intellectual dependence upon the government or its function- ary in all the affairs of the community, the abject submission to the want of freedom or free agency in thoughts, words, or acts, the religious thraldom of the people to forms which they despise, the want of influence of religious and social principle in society, justify the conclusion that the moral, religious, and social con- dition of the people was never looked at or estimated by those writers who were so enthusiastic in their praises of the national education of Prussia. The French writers took up the song from the band of Prussian pensioned literati of Berlin, and the English from the French writers ; and so the song has gone round Europe without any one taking the trouble to inquire what this educa- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 227 tional system was producing ; whether it had elevated, as it should have done if genuine, the moral, religious, and social position and character of the Prussian people as members of civilized society, having religious, moral, civil, and political rights and duties to enjoy and to perform. It is to us in England, with our free institutions and individual free-agency in all things, an inconsistency scarcely conceivable, that a government should give the means, nay, enforce the ac- quirement of the means, yet punish and suppress the use and exercise of the means it gives— should enforce education, yet deny the use and exercise of education in the duties of men, as social, moral, religious, thinking, self-acting beings. But this is the consistency of arbitrary, uncontrolled rule, and of the juste milieu principle of government by which it seeks to continue its power. This is the government of functionarism and despotism united, endeavouring to perpetuate itself by turning the education of the people and the means of living of a great body of civil functionaries placed over them, into a machinery for its own sup» port. CHAPTER IX. DISJOINTED STATE OF PRUSSIA AS ONE NATIONAL BODY.— DIFFERENT LAWS AND ADMINISTRATIONS.— FUNCTIONARISM.— ARISTOCRACY AND FUNCTIONARISM COMPARED. The military system of the Prussian government not only im- poverishes and demoralizes the people without creating that kind of military force which from its offensive capability gives a state real political weight in European affairs, but it counteracts its own object, and actually weakens the moral element of the de- fence of the country, in proportion to the perfection to which it carries the physical element — the military organization. As under this system each individual is necessarily confined very much to his own military locality, the free circulation of the mass of the population through the country is impeded, and family ties, ties of acquaintanceship, of petty business, of trades, oT common interests and objects, and a common spirit, can scarcely spread over adjacent provinces, much less over such a widely outstretched land. This military system with its pendant, the civil system, is the only thing common to all. The people of distant provinces have no common interests or objects amalgamating them into one whole — no liberties, laws, constitutional rights common to all, to rally upon. " What is it to me if the French are on the Rhine ?" would be the reasonable feeling of every man north of the Oder, when called out for actual service in the field — " if they come to us we will defend ourselves, but what have we to do with those coun- tries ?" The different provinces of the Prussian kingdom are, in fact, not amalgamated by mutual trade and communications, not united by their material interests. They are connected together only in a common bureau at Berlin, but are distinct existences in all that binds men together. The people can scarcely be called one nation. They are centralized but not nationalized. But is loyalty, is the devoted attachment of the subject to the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 229 adored and beneficent monarch, to go for nothing in this cold- hearted estimate of the connection between a country and its government, and of the impulses which lead a gallant people to fly to arms, and defend with their lives and fortunes the rights of their beloved sovereign? Let him who asks turn up a file of old newspapers, and he will there find his answer. He will there find the same effiisions of enthusiastic loyalty and devotedness from the same towns, provinces, and people— to King Jerom of Westphalia, that are now addressed to his majesty Frederick William IV of Prussia— to King Louis of Holland, that are now addressed to King William of Orange. Change names and dates, and the one would do for the other. It is within the verge of possi- bility that the same pen and the same scribe copied, and the same burgomasters or other official personages presented the same, the identical addresses to both monarchs, containing the same assur- ances of the inviolable attachment, the devoted zeal to the royal house and the beloved sovereign, of the most loyal and faithful of subjects. The age of loyalty expired amidst the laughter of the world, when the Buonaparte brood of kings and princes ex- changed their straw stools in Ajaccio for thrones, and were, treated in their Baratarias with all the honour, adulation, and devoted loyalty, that the "lives and fortunes men" of the day, in Holland and Germany, could muster. There was a moment in this half century, when royalty and aristocracy might have restored them- selves to their ancient social position by an act of great moral justice to society — by reducing to their original nothingness the swarms of counts, princes, dukes, marshals, who had been ele- vated to social distinction by no social, intellectual, or moral worth or merit, but merely by chance, favouritism, or dexterity in unprincipled military achievement, and by restoring to the countries, cities, communities, and individuals, the riches expressed from them by these personages in the shape of contributions, dons, taxes, and which, in reality, were unmilitary booty and illegal rapine. The allied powers overlooked or disdained, in the pride of victory, the opportunity of uniting the monarchical and aris- tocratical principle which they wished to re-establish, with the principle of moral justice. They themselves, by thus contaminat- ing the conventional reverence for the monarchical and aristo- cratic elements of society which they wished to revive, reduced 230 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. that of their material interests. The constitutional states have endeavoured to strengthen this tie by giving the people a voice in the management of their own affairs, a representation in the legislature. Prussia endeavours to manage the material interests of the people without the people, without a constitution; and as loyalty and aristocratical influence in the social body are unde- niably effete as principles of national movement, her govern- ment is connected with her people only by two ties— that of the military army with its officers, and that of the civil army with its functionaries. Compared with Britain or France, the kingdom of Prussia is in a very disjointed state, owing to this entire reliance upon the civil and military power, without any connection be- tween the government and the people in the management of their material interests. The material interests of the people, even among themselves, those of the different provinces of Prussia, are not amalgamated. There are no common interests, common laws, common religion, common voice in the legislation of their common country, uniting all. In that most important perhaps of all the elements of social union in a country — the law and its administration— differences and confusion prevail. The different shreds torn from other countries, of which the kingdom is com- posed, retain, in some degree, each its own laws, forms of judica- ture, religion, and rights, inalienable even by despotic power, un- less with the will and concurrence of the people themselves. The power which alone could, with safety to the government, touch and change these, the power of the people in legislative assembly, will not be conceded by the autocratic government, so that the country remains in a chaotic state, governed as one but not united. In the country west of the Rhine, and also in those provinces east of that river, of which Cologne, Dusseldorf, Elberfeld, Len- ney, Solingen, Coblenz, are the chief towns, the French law and its administration, the Code Napoleon, Code de Commerce, Code de Procedure Civile, Code Crimi7iel, the Justice de Paix, Tri- buneaux de premilre Instance, Sf-c, are all retained, and are so firmly rooted in the affections of the people, that no government could venture to alter them unless by a constitutional act of a representative assembly of the people themselves. On this point these provinces have given manifestations of their sentiments not to be mistaken, when the government has proposed assimilations in the laws or tribunals to those of Prussia. This population NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 231 living under French law is the very kernel of the Prussian king- dom — a concentrated population of from three to four millions, the most wealthy, commercial, and manufacturing, and the most enlightened upon their rights and wants of any perhaps in Ger- many. In the Province of Posen, again, at the otlier extremity of the kingdom, the French administration by justices de paix^ and by open courts of justice, and open examinations of witnesses, prevails over the general Prussian administration. In the provinces which were mediatized, and even in the pro- vinces which had long been under the Prussian sceptre, baronial courts were a species of private property which could not be taken away from the estate of the prince or baron. Government always had the needful superintendence over the patron in his appointing judges from legally qualified persons bred at the universities— as in the appointment of a clergyman by a patron — and also over the judge, in superintending, revising, or revers- ing his judicial proceedings; but such courts have the inhabitants of certain districts thirled to them, in cases civil or criminal, in the first instance ; and forms, expenses, conveniences to suitors, and confidence in justice, are, necessarily, very different in a multi- plicity of diflerent local courts established at different periods, and originally with different usages. Deducting the population of the provinces standing altogether under the Code Napoleon, of the remaining 10,000,000 of people under the Prussian sceptre, 3,700,000, or above one-third of the whole population of Prussia, are under private jurisdiction, and 6,300,000 only under the royal governmental courts. Of the royal governmental courts, not including the higher courts of appeal, there are 7,018, and of private courts, 6,134, of which 128 are of the patrimony of princes, standesherrn or high nobility, and of provincial nobility, and 6,006 are common baronial courts of patrimony. The judges in these patrimonial local courts appear to be paid either by fees, or by dues from all the* peasantry within the circle of the jurisdiction, or by land mortified in old times for the support of the judge; but appear to be so ill paid, that, like curates of old in Kent, one judge officiates in eight, or even twelve, of these local courts. The total number of judges in the 6,134 private courts is but 523. The greatest number of inhabitants subject to these local patri- monial courts, is in Silesia, where, out of 2,500,000 people, 1,500,- 000 are under barony courts. The smallestinumber is in West- 232 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. phalia, where, in a population of 1,300,000 people, only about 80,000 are under these patrimonial jurisdictions, the system hav- ing been abolished almost entirely when Westphalia was erected into a distinct kingdom for Jerome Buonaparte. Of royal or regular governmental courts the number in Prussia appears to be 7,018, and of judges paid by government 2,325, of whom 1,593 are judges in the inferior local courts. The total number of all functionaries living by the administration of law, and appointed by government, appears to be 11,401 persons. It is the first law of functionarism to take care of itself. To reduce to uniformity the administration of law, and the law courts, among a people, appears one of the most needful steps towards an amalgamation of the whole into one nation, and, if strong measures were agoing, one of the most important to which a strong measure could be applied, especially as these patrimonial courts are founded on no principle of advantage or convenience to the people, or of just right of the baronial proprietor. But it would have been a cur- tailment of the living to be gained in function, a reform not to be expected from a government of functionaries. Until this, how- ever, be done, the people of Prussia can scarcely be called one nation. The state wants unity. In the provinces, also, clipped out of ancient Poland, which are not inconsiderable, the province of Posen alone, containing nearly one million and a half of inhabitants, a strong anti- Prussian spirit, and not a passive spirit, prevails among all ranks. Since the accession of the present king, the nobility there have refused to accept the constitution of a provincial assembly of the Standes- herrn, or nobles of a certain class, to deliberate upon such provin- cial affairs as the king may order to be laid before them — which is the kind of representative constitution proposed to be substituted in Prussia for that constitutional representation of the people in the legislature promised by the late king— and avowedly upon the principle that they do not choose to be amalgamated with Prussia, and placed upon the same footing as the other provinces of the Prussian dominions. They will stand by their Polish nationality. It is this spirit, and not fanaticism alone, that is at work in this part of the kingdom in supporting the Bishop of Posen and the Catholic clergy in resisting the church measures of government. Independently of the influence of the clergy, the Polish nationality ia increasing to such alarming intensity in this NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 233 quarter, that obscure state paragraphs have been inserted in the foreign newspapers adn-iitted into Prussia — those of Augsburg, Frankfort, or Leipsic — to prepare the pubhc mind in Prussia for some strong measure to put it down — some attempt similar to the Russian, to abolish by law the Polish language, customs, and national distinctions. It is a curious trait in the working of a censorship of the press, and of pubhc opinion on public affairs, that an autocratic irresponsible government must condescend to cheat its own establishments, and avail itself of the free press of a foreign town to sound the public opinion of its own subjects upon its own intentions. Can such a state of things be permanent? Is sucli a principle of government as this autocratic principle, suitable to the advanced condition of the subjects of Prussia ? Are the relations between the governing and the governed what they ought to be ? The Prussian government wants to nationalize its subjects, and yet puts down the means of obtaining its own object. It wants to rouse a national spirit, yet would have the public mind passive, calm, and unagitated by political discussions of the press, or of public meetings, or by free communications on public affairs. It wants to sail with a fair gale of wind, yet to keep the sea smooth and unruffled by the agitation which unavoidably attends the gale. Wc hear much of the dangers and calamities of popular tumults, political agitations, and mobs : but we should consider that these are the outbursts, the vents of the very same spirit that is national spirit on national emergencies. They are the small evils insepa- rable from a great good. A mob is an assemblage of people actuated by a common spirit. It may be a spirit of mischief, of breaking windows, of throwing dead dogs and cats, of hurraing demagogues — still it is the identical spirit which if kindled through a whole nation on great occasions is the national spirit roused for national honour or national defence. Germany has no mobs. Italy has none. Mobs are peculiar to those countries of which the people are nationalized, free, and capable of acting together with a common spirit. A crowd of people gathered together arc not a mob, unless actuated by a common spirit for a common object. Half a dozen schoolboys going out to beat half a dozen boys of another school, are a mob: and the same spirit on a grander occasion, and grander scale, would be public spirit, patriotism, all that Prussia wants to inspire into her inert population. This 16 234 ' NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. _ susceptibility of being kindled into a common spirit for a common object is wanting in the character of the German people : tliey are trained and educated out of it. It is the policy of their govern- ments to repress it, rather than to keep it alive: the consequence will probably be, on a rupture with France, that a second edition of the first campaigns of the last war will be given again to the world; and with better troops, abler officers, superior machinery of war, and at least equal courage and vigour of the soldiers, Germany will yield to the invincible national spirit of the French. The moral principle will again beat the mechanical in warfare. The false policy of the Prussian government represses the growth of that nationality which would be its surest defence, because it re- quires the sacrifice of an obsolete principle of autocratic govern- ment unsuitable to the times, and to the social state of Prussia itself. The traveller inimical to hereditary aristocracy as a privileged state power in a community — not from prejudice, or party feel- ing, but on principle, as an institution adverse to a liberal social economy — will find much to shake his opinions, when he sits down here on the Continent to consider deliberately the power which has succeeded to aristocracy in France, Prussia, and gene- rally in the modern social economy of Europe. Aristocracy, it is evident, had worked itself out, and is effete in every country, even in those in which it has not been formally abolished or under- mined by law. Where it still stands with all its ancient supports, it is evidently going to decay, and has lost its roots in modern society. But the power which has sprung up in its place — the power of functionarism— is by no means satisfactory. It is aris- tocracy without the advantages of aristocracy. The highest func- tionary is not an independent man. He has been bred in a school of implicit, almost military submission of his own opinion to au- thority — has attained power through the path of subjection of his own principles and judgment to those of others above him. He has no independence of mind. Such public men in the higher offices of government as our hereditary aristocracy and gentry on all sides of politics produce— men not to be swayed from- what they hold to be right, and who renounce office rather than con- sistency and independent judgment — are not to be heard of in the functionarism of the Continent. The noble, generally speaking, is an educated man from his social position, and not edticated NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 235 merely for functionary duties, with the contracted views of office. He is also, generally speaking, independent iu position and cir- cumstances, and the public opinion and judgment of his political conduct is an influence more powerful with him than with the office-bred functionary. He is working for a reward, and under a check from public opinion, which neither the supreme power of the state, nor its subordinate powers above him, or beside him, can give or take away, or compensate for, if it be lost by the course of his political conduct in public aff'airs. The functionary is not only independent of public opinion, but is bred up in a so- cial system which has no reference to it, in which it is set at naught, and in which it can give him no support or reward for the sacrifice of office to principle, or of his own individual mate- rial interests to his political opinions. As a state power, or social body, functionarism compared to aristocracy is much more de- tached from the cause of the people. It is also, as a state power, much more dangerous to the monarch. It is a mistake to con- sider functionarism, as it now exists on the Continent, a machine in the hands of despotic, autocratic sovereigns. It is a machine which governs the government. The history of France, from the hour that the military support of Buonaparte was broken at Mos- cow, shows that the crown itself is altogether in the gift of this new state power. The history of Belgium, of Spain, of Russia, tells the same fact. It is considered by many that here in Prussia, it is functionarism, not royalty, that rules. The body of function- aries are like the body of clergy in the middle ages. The men are of one mind, bred in one school, with one spirit. The mo- narch has but a small number to choose from of men around the throne, qualified to conduct or advise public measures. These are all men bred in the same way — men of the same ideas, mind, and spirit. It is but a change of persons and faces about him, not of principles or system, that the monarch attains by a change of ministers. He is in a position very similar to that of his pre- decessors in the middle ages, when churchmen held all state af- fairs in their hands. Since the decay of hereditary aristocracy, a power remarkably similar to that exercised by the priesthood in the middle ages — a body similarly constituted to the clerical, and in the same relative position to the sovereign and the people — is establishing a thraldom over both. The sovereign and the people have no free political action, or mutual working upon each other, 236 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. through this wall of functionarism that divides them. In the hereditary aristocracy, the monarch had a selection of men bred in all varieties of social position — not as the functionary, or the priest, in only one contracted sphere of action and thinking — and of all varieties of mental power, and, although connected by their material interests as a body with the welfare of the people, united to the personality of the crown by their individual honours, pri- vileges, and social distinctions. The functionaries are only united to each other, and, like the clergy, are a body distinct both from the sovereign and the people, in interests and social relations. The habit of interfering, regulating, commanding in the concerns of the people, gives both to them and the people a feeling of op- posed interests and objects, not of confidence. The functionary in Germany, even in the lowest station, is always treated, and his wife also, with the full ceremonial of his title of office, which shows that his relation to the people is not one of mutual confi- dence. The evil effect on the industry and independence of mind of a people, by such a mass of government employment with social influence and easy living, being offered to the higher, mid- dle, and small capitalist classes, has been already stated ; and also that this is the main obstacle to the development of national in- dustry and wealth, and to that progress in trade and manufacture which the German people are at present dreaming of Free social institutions also, the only foundation of national prosperity, moral free-agency, civil and political liberty, never can grow up under the pressure of this state power drawn from the upper and middle classes, influenced by one spirit, and interested as a body in main- taining the importance, means of Uving and patronage, derived from a multitude of functions established for restraining or entirely superseding free social institutions, free-agency, and civil or poli- tical liberty. Functionarism is perhaps more adverse than aris- tocracy to civil liberty. Will the great social movement of the German people now in progress for their material interests and industrial prosperity be able to shake off this incubus, to break up the systefn of interference, superintendence, and military ar- rangement on the part of government in all social action, upon which functionarism is founded, and by which it lives ? Will the continental sovereigns, acting in the spirit of the German com- mercial league, and in reaUty for their own independence and power, abandon the military system of interference in all things,, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 237 and of governing by functionaries instead of by the people ? Will they fall back now, as some day they will be obliged to do, for support against the power of functionarism upon the power of the people in a representative constitution ? Or will they attempt to stick up again the dead branches of hereditary aristocracy around the throne ? The future state of society on the Continent turns on the solution which time and circumstances may give to these questions. TTie spirit raised by the German commercial league is hastening on their solution rapidly. One is already solved — the restoration of an hereditary privileged aristocracy in Prussia. The Prussian government has, of late years, been aware of the false position in which it stands — admitting no principle but the purely monarchical autocratic principle exercised by its functiona- ries ; and yet encouraging the growth of a state of society, wealth, industry, and national spirit, directly opposed to that principle, and which can only exist where the people partake in their own- government and legislation. The policy of late has evidently been to retrace its steps. The dissolution of the Prussian church, and the return to the old forms and spirit of the two branches of Protestantism, especially to the pietism of the old Lutheran church, is talked of as the wish and tendency of the court ; and it is even whispered, that the abolition of the leiheigenschaft, or feudal servitude of the peasantry, and of the privileges and exclusive rights of the corporate bodies in towns, is talked of in high places as having been a hasty measure. And undoubtedly so it was, if the monarchical autocratic principle was to be retained. At the coronation of his present majesty in August last, in Konigsberg, an attempt was made to begin the restoration of an hereditary class of nobles. It was proposed to elevate some of the wealthi- est of the present nobility to the rimk of princes, and to make the new dignity hereditary in the eldest sons, instead of descending aS the present titles do, to all the children ; and the new nobles were to be bound to entail a certain proportion of their estates upon the successors to their titles. The proposal, however, met with no acceptance. With almost all, the estates were so burdened that it could not be done without injury to their creditors. Others considered it would be an injustice to their other children. Some declined the proffered honours point blank. The diet or provin- cial assembly of the standeshcrrn of Konigsberg for deliberating 238 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. on the provincial affairs laid before them— which is the substitute given for a constitutional government — although assembled for the coronation, and to whose members this offer was made, re- jected it, and even adopted a petition for a representative consti- tution of the people, as promised to them by the late king under date of the 25th May, 1815, to which they referred. The city of Breslau, the third in importance in the kingdom, standing next to Berlin and Konigsberg, adopted a similar petition and reference. Cologne also made a similar move. These are strong indications of the rising spirit of the times — of the split between things as they are and the sentiments of the influential classes of the coun- try. A retrograde movement is evidently impossible ; and it is equally impossible to stand still, with the whole material interests of the people, and their opinions and feelings for political exist- ence in the legislation excited by the spirit of the German com- mercial league, and pushing on the government in a path which •the government is pledged to take, in which its steps are watched by the people, and which necessarily and unavoidably leads to free institutions, a representative constitution, and the abolition of the present sole monarchical, autocratic principle. CHAPTER X. BERLIN.— MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR IN BERLIN.— DETAILS CONCERN- ING THE MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR. Berlin has the air of the metropoUs of a kingdom of yester- day. No Gothic churches, narrow streets, fantastic gable ends, no historical stone and lime, no remnants of the picturesque ages, recall the olden time. Voltaire in satin breeches and powdered peruke, Frederic the Great in jackboots and pigtail, and the French classical age of Louis XIV, are the men and times Berlin calls up to the imagination of the traveller. A fine city, however, Berlin is, — very like the age she represents — very fine and very nasty. Berlin is a city of palaces, that is, of huge barrack-like edifices with pillars, statues, and all the regular frippery of the tawdry school of classical French architecture — all in stucco, and frequently out at elbows, discovering the naked brick under the tattered yellow faded covering of plaster. The fixtures which strike the eye in the streets of Berlin are vast fronts of buildings, clurtisy ornaments, clumsy statues, clumsy inscriptions, a profu- sion of gilding, guard-houses, sentry-boxes ; the movables are sentries presenting arms every minute, officers with feathers and orders passing unceasingly, hackney droskies rattling about, and numbers of well-dressed people. The streets are spacious and straight, with broad margins on each side for foot passengers ; and a band of plain flag-stones on these margins makes them much more walkabic than the streets of most continental towns. But these margins are divided from the spacious carriage-way in the middle, by open kennels telling the nose unutterable things. These open kennels are boarded over only at the gateways of the palaces to let the carriages cross them, and must be particularly convenient to the inhabitants, for they are not at all particularly agreeable. Use reconciles people to nuisances which might be easily removed. A sluggish but considerable river, the Spree, 240 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Stagnates through the town, and the money laid out in stucco work and outside decoration of the houses would go far towards covering over their drains, raising the water by engines, and send- ing it in a purifying stream through every street and sewer. If bronze and marble could smell, Bkicher and Bulow, Schwerin and Zeithen, and duck-winged angels, and two-headed eagles in- numerable, would be found on their pedestals holding their noses instead of grasping their swords. It is a curious illustration of the difference between the civilization of the fine arts and that of the useful arts, in their influences on social well-being, that this city, as populous as Glasgow or Manchester, has an Italian opera, two or three theatres, a vast picture gallery, and statue gallery, and museums of all kinds, a musical academy, schools of all de- scriptions, an university with 142 professors, the most distinguished men of science who can be collected in Germany, and is undoubt- edly the capital, the central point of taste in the fine arts, and of mind and intelligence in literature, for a vast proportion of the enlightened and refined of the European population — and yet has not advanced so far in the enjoyments and comforts of life, in the civilization of the useful arts, as to have water conveyed ^n pipes into their city and into their houses. Three hundred thousand people have taste enough to be in die-away ecstasies at the sing- ing of Madame Pasta, or the dancing of Taglioni, and have not taste enough to appreciate or feel the want of a supply of water in their kitchens, sculleries, drains, sewers, water-closets. The civilization of an English village is, after all, more real civiliza- tion than that of Paris or Berlin. Berlin, however, has one noble pre-eminence over every city of great population in Europe, perhaps, and certainly over every city in Britain, in the management and care of her poor, and in the efficient arrangements for the relief of the distressed, and the sup- pression of mendicity, carried on by the gratuitous services of the middle class of her citizens. This covers a multitude of nuisances. Berlin with a population* of nearly 300,000 souls has no poor- * The population returns of Prussia, although made up with much apparent care by her functionaries, are not quite to be depended upon; for it appears that even in the capital, in 1841, a mistake has crept in by the householders including only their own families, but not their casual lodgers, in their returns of the members of their households; and it is said that forty thousand people at least, some say sixty or eighty thousand, have been omitted, who really NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 241 rates, no beggars, and no visible obtrusive policemen at every twenty paces, as in our great cities, to prevent mendicity. It is the first feature in the social economy of this city that strikes the traveller, and the first subject that claims his inquiries ; for Berlin has very little trade or manufacturing employment for its labouring class ; the land around is a sandy, barren soil unsuitable for any quick rotation of crops, and therefore affording comparatively little employment to labour ; and consequently the destitution and misery must be as great and clamant in Berlin as in Edinburgh or Glasgow ; yet it is not seen. No town is so free from beggary, or the appearances of extreme want and privation. How is this managed ? The inquiry may be useful, and may suggest some- thing applicable to the management of the poor in some of our great towns. Edinburgh, for instance, with about two-thirds of the population, is very similar in its means and resources of living to Berlin. Both cities exist not by any great trade or manufac- tures seated in them, but by the concentration of the business of the country, by the courts of law and head-establishments, and by resident families of fortune. Both cities, too, are the head-quarters of the poor and of those verging towards poverty, from all other parts of the country. Berlin is even more exposed to pauperism not properly her own than Edinburgh or Glasgow, because her garrison is 10,000 men; that of Potsdam, at an hour's distance by railway, is 7,000 ; that of Spandau, at three or four leagues' dis- tance, is very considerable ; and one-third of these men are dis- charged every year. Some of these have no home to return to, and no trade to live by, and no disposition to work and less to re-enlist, and they hang about the capital as servants, helpers, and small-job men, and have acquired, by residence, a claim to sup- port, and, at last, they with their families fall into utter destitution. Yet Edinburgh is overrun with beggars — want and misery are, day and night, abroad in her streets— and her householders com- plain loudly of their poor-rates. Berlin, with as great an amount of poverty, and as great a burden upon her householders to relieve that poverty, contrives, at least, to make the means fCiIfil the end far better than Edinburgh, contrives to avoid the direct imposition of a poor-tax or rate with all its evils, although no doubt the dwell in Berlin. — ^This mistake is stated in the newspapers of August, 1841, to have been just discovered in the population returns of Berlin. 242 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. public bears the burden of supporting or succouring those who would perish without that aid, but does so under another name, and contrives to relieve effectually all real distress, and to suppress entirely mendicity. This subject is worth inquiring into. The management of the poor in great towns in Prussia was in the hands of government commissioners until 1S21, when it was given over to the municipalities; and these were required to appoint poor directors, each direction to consist of the burgomaster as president, the members of the magistracy, members of the assembly of the town deputies, or town council, and members chosen by each parish. The magistrates and town deputies are changeable each year, being ex officio members, and in Berlin at least they amount to twelve; the others, amounting to twelve also, are permanently elected. The members of the poor direction re- ceive no pay or emolument. The clergy, and the medical men of the city, may be joined to the direction by the directors ; and the chief of the pohce, in cities in which the police is not managed by the magistracy, is ex officio a member. The duty of the poor directors is the general care of the poor in Berlin, and of the poor schools, the orphan house, the workhouse, the infirmary, the hospital for old people, and three smaller hospitals ; and the charge, direction, and superintendence of all the funds and ex- penditure and management of the poor. When the poor direct- ors entered on their office, great confusion in accounts, great want of system, and great mismanagement in relieving the poor, existed. They began with taking one of the police districts in which there was little pauperism, and placing it experimentally under a poor commission. The plan was found to work so well, that between 1821 and 1825 they had divided the whole city into fifty-six dis- tricts, each under its poor commission, the commissioners being more or less numerous according to the number of poor usually in their districts, but in general being from five to nine, and each commission having within its own district, if possible, its own physician, surgeon, oculist, and apothecary, whose services are paid, and are not received gratuitously.* The poor commissioners * The services of the medical men are paid for monthly, and the medicines also, because the residence of a medical man and an apothecary within each poor district was thought necessary. By accepting grutuitous services, the poor commissioner might have to send his sick poor all over the town for medical assistance, and the poor might be put off with the attendance of a NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 243 receive no pay or emolument ; but are benevolent persons, and the most respectable in tlieir districts, who, without regard to their religious persuasion, or to their civil occupations, are chosen out of a list presented to them by the poor commissioners of the dis- trict as vacancies happen to occur, by the poor directors, and re- quested to accept the office. Each poor commissioner has a distinct section of his district put under his charge and SLiperintcndence, and the district is so divided that in general each poor commis- sioner has not more than ten or twelve paupers receiving relief to look after. In 183S the number of the poor commissioners was 607 in all, and of all classes of citizens. I find a butcher and a master chimney-sweeper among them, and landed proprietors, silk manufacturers, merchants, bakers, distillers, but neither a clergyman nor a lawyer in the whole list. They are considered less suitable for the distribution impartially and economically. At the end of each month, the poor commissioners of each district meet together in a conference, to make a monthly report of all the proceedings in their respective subdivisions, and to settle the business of the month. As the whole efficiency of the system turns upon the poor commissioners, both as to the relief of the distressed, and the just economy to the public, it is necessary to go into a detail of the routine of their duties. If a pauper desires relief, he must apply to the president of the poor Commission of the district in which he resides, who receives the application, inquires into the grounds of it, into the situation, family connections, and other circumstances of the applicant; and if it be not so utterly groundless as to be summarily dismissed, refers it to the poor commissioner in whose section of the district the pauper is living. He sends another poor commissioner from another section of the district, to make inquiry also in the neigh- medical apprentice or student, instead of commanding the best assistance. Tlie regular monthly payment, also, makes it an object for medical men be- ginning business to live in the poor districts of the town, which otherwise would be left without medical assistance near. So great is the attention to Uie sick poor, that steam baths, sulphuretted baths, and other artificial baths are administered; and they are even sent to drink mineral waters, and to sea bathing at Swinemunde. The German medical men at present, and their patients, seem to have great faith in the etlicacy of baths prepared artificially, and in sea baths, mineral waters, and such remedies, which perhaps our me- dical men regard as a mere consolatio animi — as medical science itself is defined to be by Scaliger. 244 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. bourhood, and at the last place of residence in the city. These commissioners inquire of the landlord, the neighbours, the last employer ; and in the monthly meeting of the whole commis- sioners of the district, a report of the result of the inquiry is made, and the case decided. In urgent cases, any one of the poor commissioners of the district may, with consent of tlie presi- dent, grant an immediate relief, but this must be reported at the first monthly meeting of the whole. If the pauper has ap- plied for relief, and the president of the poor commission finds that, provided the pauper's statements be correct, it should be granted, he takes an examination book with him in which there are twenty-five printed questions, which the applicant is bound to answer, concerning his age, state of health, capability of work, former trade or occupation, causes of its not supporting him now, number, age, and capability of work of the members of the family, situation of the relations who by law are obliged to sup- port him (in Prussia people are legally obliged to support, if able, their nearest blood relations— the if makes it an inquisitorial and objectionable law), and if there be any children in the family, whether they have been vaccinated, confirmed, sent to school, &c. This examination book is handed to the two commissioners appointed to examine into the case, who have also their printed questions in it, to be replied to by the result of their inquiries concerning the applicant ; and if sickness, or physical inability is stated by the pauper, the physician of the commission writes his testimony also in the book ; and lastly the determination of the district poor commission upon the case, as to granting or denying relief of a permanent kind, is written in this examination book, and carried into effect by the commissioners. This examination book is the groundwork of a standing personal document, or cer- tificate of the case of each individual pauper, or alms-receiver, by which every circumstance relative to his pauperism is known. If he changes his abode, and applies to the president of the new district poor commission for relief, as being a pauper from another district, the examination book is sent for, but the president pro- ceeds entirely as if it were a new case, and only takes the former as subsidiary to the inquiries instituted by their own commis- sioners ; and, as each commission sees with its own eyes, it may happen that the decision of the new district commission may differ from the former. The examination book follows the pan- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 245 per wherever he goes as pauper, and his case, after repeated ex- aminations, can scarcely be one not entitled to relief. In cases of medical assistance being required, the applicant, to save delay, gets a note from the poor commissioner of the sec- tion in which he lives, and takes or sends it to the president to be countersigned, whicli is done after a summary inquiry into the poverty of the sick pauper, and it is a sufficient order to the medical officers of the district for attendance and the necessary medicines. The distribution of orders for wood or turf, or money for the purchase of firing, given, 'very often, not to'the single pauper himself, but to his landlord to keep the house regularly warm, is another part of the duty of the poor commission of each district. The school attendance of the children of the paupers is a mat- ter also under their special superintendence. Every month the members of the district poor commission meet, decisions on the claims are made, the acts of the individual commissioners and president, in ordering, each in his own divi- sion or ward of the district, relief, medicine, free school teaching, &c., are reported, and a protocol is drawn up by the president, accompanied by all the documents, the current account of the disbursements of the month, and the estimate of what is wanted, for the succeedmg month, and handed to the poor directors. The protocol is retained, and the current account returned discharged, to the poor commission, it being ruled and printed in twelve divisions, or columns, so as to be the account of a whole year. To save trouble as much as possible to the poor commissioners, who give their time gratuitously, every thing is printed in forms, and only one account of their disbursements — this monthly ac- count as made up at their monthly meetings — is required. As messengers to the poor commissioners, there are twenty-three town sergeants who receive pay, and who, with twelve poor wards, are specially charged with the arrest of beggars, and taking them to the workhouse ; and as they know the actual paupers, and are daily among them, moving about, and doing the messages of the poor commissioners in each division and district, to and from the poor,4his certainty of being known prevents the pauper from beg- ging. In the actual distribution of relief to paupers, this is the only expense. Medical attendance, medicines, bandages for rup- 246 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. tures, spectacles for old people, are disbursements of the fund itself, not of the administration of it. The expenditure in one year, 1838, appears to have been — Prussian Thalers. £ For support of 4,927 persons and families - - - 99,136 = 14,723 For medical attendance, medicine, food, bandages, and sick expenses, including burials. 25,646 cases of sick poor appear to have been treated, out of which 1,373 persons died 41,488= 6,161 Extraordinary or occasional assistance with money - 32,679 =: 4,853 Fire-wood, turf, &c., distributed . - - . 10,502 = 1,559 Support of poor belonging to Berlin in other places - 1,022= 151 Education of depraved or morally neglected infants in a par- ticular school established for that purpose - - 1,240 = 184 186,067 = 27,631 The House of Correction or Workhouse, Orphan Hospital, and several hospitals for decayed poor, and having funds in part for their support, and also the infirmary - - 180,464 = 26,801 In all 366,531 = 54,432 Of this sum applied to the support of the poor, part comes from permanent funds left for the endowment of the hospitals, or from legacies left to the poor, part from government for the house of correction and police, and also as occasional gifts from the king, part from voluntary contributions of the inhabitants and from gifts of benevolent persons, but the greater part of it, in 1838, about 239,000 thalers, or 35,495/. sterling, out of the general chest of the city taxes.* These municipal taxes are extremely heavy. They are levied on the value of the house, and the supposed value or income of the trade carried on by the householder, as estimated by the commissioners for charging it. One householder, in good but not first-rate business as an innkeeper, reckoned his direct taxes at 400 thalers, of which the government taxes on his house and trade would be about 100 thalers ; the rest was all town taxes. This is no doubt a poor-rate in reality, but mixed up and joined with other municipal taxes ; but they consider in Berlin that the moral effect on the poor is very different, and that it is the true way in which a poor-tax should be levied. It comes to the poor * 11,223Z. appears to be the sum assessed or estimated, in 1841, for the support of the indoor or workhouse poor in the city of Edinburgh. Berlin, with about one-third more of population, pays above twice as much money for the support of its indoor or woi'khouse poor as Edinburgh, viz., 26,801/. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 247 as a relief, gift, or donation, not as part of a fund on which they have a just claim as being specially raised for their use, and to which they have a right. The exact numbers of poor cannot be made out from the reports of the poor directors hitherto published, because, as in this for the year 1838, the number receiving continu- ous monthly relief in this one year — 4,927 persons — comprehends heads of families as well as single paupers; and the time of the poor commissioners being altogether gratuitously given, it would be an unreasonable burden upon them to require any returns, such as of numbers in each family, that can be avoided. The accounts which the passing traveller can give of the man- agement of the poor in Berlin are calculated and intended rather to excite than to gratify curiosity and inquiry. The subject is necessarily connected with details which would swell into volumes. It is of general interest, however, to give such a sketch of the whole system, as may be a groundwork for those who will direct their inquiries specially to this subject with a view of introducing some of its arrangements that may be suitable into our own social state and pauper management. To the actual etiiciency of the system in the two great points of relieving fully, humanely, and economically, all real distress — and in the suppression of all street begging, and much vice and idleness — the most hasty traveller who inquires at all into the state of the poor, or who even contents himself with his personal observation as a stranger walking about the town, must bear the fullest testimony. The following detached information and hints will assist those interested, in forming an idea of some of the parts of the machinery. The whole, according to the sketch given above, consists of a board of poor directors, and of local boards of poor commissioners : the former having the general control, superintendence, and finance under its charge — the latter being in the immediate contact with the poor, dispensing relief, each board in its own circle or division of the city, and each commissioner in his own section or sub- division of that circle only, and under the checks in each case of relief, first, of the president of the local board ; secondly, of the monthly conference of the members of the local board, taking each case into consideration ; and, thirdly, of regular sifting exa- mination, by means of the examination books, into each case, leaving nothing to the vague opinion, or vague inquiry, or indi- vidual feelings of compassion of any one commissioner, however 248 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. correct his personal knowledge may be, but placing every item regarding the pauper's case upon record. It was necessary, how- ever, to the proper working of this machinery to know not merely what relief was afforded to each distressed person by the poor commissioners of his locality, which the monthly account and vouchers handed in from each monthly meeting of the poor com- missioners to the board of directors, and discharged each month as far as regards the disbursements of the commissioners, suffi- ciently show; but it was necessary to have a check upon the parties relieved, that they should not be receiving relief secretly at the same time from other local boards, or from other charitable establishments. The board of directors, therefore, took powers from government, obliging all public charitable institutions, kirk sessions, hospitals, and others to furnish lists of the persons, and amounts of relief upon their fund. They also invited all private charitable societies, and charitable persons or families who have regular poor pensioners upon their bounty, to furnish .similar lists. Out of these, and the examination books, and monthly account and vouchers of each board of local poor commissioners, the board of directors formed a regular head book or ledger, in which each individual pauper has his account for himself, as in a bank- er's books, and from which it can at once be seen whether the poor commissioners of any district are bestowing too much on any individual, or if he is drawing aid from any other charity ; and the president of the local poor commissioners can at once see if a claimant in his district is or has been in receipt of aid from other charities. The charitably disposed also can refer to it, to know if the poor they take an interest in are in real distress, and to what amount they should be relieved. This ledger contains the accounts of the poor of thirty-two different poor boxes, such as church poor-money raised by donations at the church doors, charitable legacies, unions for the poor of particular corporations, &c., as well as of the poor under the poor commissioners of the fifty-six poor divisions of the city. The receipt and disbursement of their own funds remain with these institutions as before, and under their own direction, only they must furnish such lists of the appropriation of it to the poor directors, that the individuals they support, wholly or in part, shall not come upon the public for the whole of their support There seems no jealousy, now that the whole system is in work, between the two. On the contrary, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 249 many poor, especially aged and infirm persons, arc supported by the charitable institutions as far as their funds go, and the balance made up by the poor directors ; and where there are houses, fuel or other conveniences on a larger scale than required for the number of paupers whom the private funds of the institution can support, it is a saving to the public. Where such aid is given, the economy of the institution, as to salaries, is under the poor directors. An establishment of some considerable expense in clerks is unavoidable in such a system of book-keeping in which, in one year (1838) nearly five thousand heads of accounts (4,927) were kept in the single division of persons receiving continuous monthly support. In the same year 25,6-16 cases of sick poor (of whom 1373 died, and were interred principally by the public) were treated by the medical men at the public expense-. It appears that the heads of accounts in all, open in one year, amounted to 17,267, and of course considerable expense in the administration of such a mass of pen and ink business is unavoidable. But the expense is, next to the efficiency, the great point. The efficiency of the Berlin system is undeniable ; but what is the expense of the administration of it? In a given year (1828), the first I be- lieve in which the whole system being in full play, the details of the expense of the standing establishment were given to the pub- lic in a report by the poor directors (and which not being stated in any of their subsequent reports appear not to have been since essentially altered), the following was the permanent salaried es- tablishment: Tliulers. £ Tlie chief inspector, and secretary of the board. Salary - 950= 142 Assistant secretary, who also in the forenoon keeps the protocol of all applications made at the application office, of all petitions which do not enter into the journal, but are referred to the poor commissioners, and also keeps the ledger of the disbursements to the poor out of extra- ordinary funds not entering into the regular receipts or • disbursements— such as presents of fuel, clothing, money for special objects - - - - - 550 = S3 An accountant, receiving also some remuneration from the boxes of the institution he keeps the accounts of Cash keeper and a comptroller, 2; receiving in all Register, and journal keepers, 5 - Clerks, 7 17 300 = 45 1,400 = 208 1,670 = 248 1,290 = 187 Thalers. £ 6,160 = 913 816 = 124 120 = 17 4,347 = 645 790 = 112 250 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Brought forward Office servants, 3 - [These are messengers between the different mem- bers and branches of the poor direction. One also is the housekeeper, and one files the vouchers and docu- ments.] A revising commissioner ----- 400 = 59 A paid poor commissioner-assistant for two suburbs of the city inhabited almost wholly by paupers, and whom on account of their numbers, the ordinary poor commissioners could not attend to without assistance Town sergeants, 12 persons . - - District messengers, 6 persons . - . [These are messengers between the poor commis- sioners in the different districts, and the individual pau- pers, and are paid days' wages. They are not exactly poor officers on salaries, but are persons taken from among the poor, v/ho, at any rate, would require aid for their families.] A master poor-watchman or poor-ward - - . 272 = 40 Poor-wards under him, 12 persons - - - 1.312 = 194 [These belong properly to the police, as miich as to the poor establishment. They have a uniform, and their duty is to arrest beggars, and bring them, as distressed persons, to the poor commission of the district, the poor director's room, or to the workhouse.] The total administration cost yearly, in 1828 - - 14,221 = 2,112 The poor directors keep an application-room open to the public, at which the assistant secretary attends, and in which a day-book is kept of all applications of the poor for relief, and of appeals from the decisions of any of the district poor commissions, if the pauper thinks he ought to get relief and has been refused ; and at which any petitions or claims they may have to make are drawn out, and any advicte they require given without expense ; and it is also a kind of house of call for work and workmen, if any labourers are wanted for such work as the poor can do. The poor commissioners find here the information they require respect- ing applicants for relief in their districts ; and the benevolent can learn if the objects they are relieving are really necessitous, and to what extent their charity is required.* Among the charitable * The following reports of the poor directors are interesting on this subject. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 251 establishments under charge of the poor directors one seems very interesting— the school for neglected and morally depraved chil- dren. These children are first placed in a lazarette for fourteen days, in one wing of the hospital, to be sure that they are free from infectious disease ; the sick are on the other side, and the children are only admitted to mix with the others when perfectly clean and well ; and their moral defects also in some degree as- certained. Useful trades and women's work are tanght the boys and girls in these institntions. It is generally complained of in the Prussian towns, that the abolition of the old corporation system bj' which liberty to set up in any trade or handicraft was restricted by apprenticeships, journeymanships, and freedom of the corporated body of each trade, has filled them with pauperism. The freedom of the city or town as burgess, which in Berlin costs thirty thaJers, is all that is now required to entitle any one to carry on any trade or handi- craft in it ; and young men, as soon as they have completed their three years of military service, set up as masters in the trade they were bred to, marry, and in a few years their families come upon the public for support. It is evidently not the freedom of trade that produces this evil, but the attempt to unite freedom of trade with the Prussian military system. The young men have lost, if they had ever acquired, the expertness and readiness at their work, and the habits of steadiness and industry necessary in every handicraft, by their military service ; and are arrived at the age, after three years' service in the army, when they must settle in life. The two systems cannot work together in society. The Prussian military system also gives no such outlet as our army does to the unsteady class of half-bred tradesmen who want prudence, forethought, or skill, to thrive in their handicrafts. Our land and sea service, colonies, and emigration, relieve the country of a considerable proportion of this class who in Prussia marry, and become, in effect, an increasing fund of pauperism in the community. The Prussian military system is thus work- ing out pauperism in two ways — by impoverishing, and preparing Die oofrcntlicho Arinpnpnpa;c in t^cilia dar^psiclll von dor Anncn Dircotioii. ]5eilin, 1828 ; also, Uel)er.sichtclerbei don Armen-Commissionen der Residenz Berlin bestehenden Geschaefts Fuehrunjr, Berlin, 1836; and Jahres Bericht iieber die Armen-Verwaltiing in Berlin pro 1838. 252 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. for pauperism, the working class — and by not absorbing those whose habits, temperament, and conduct tend to bring them to pauperism, and who with us, but for the military service, would be paupers, or engendering pauperism. If England, notwith- standing all her employments and outlets for pauperism, is over- whelmed with it, what will Germany become as a manufactur- ing country, breeding paupers in the same ratio as England, yet without any outlets for them in colonies, standing armies, fleets, or commercial shipping ? The manufacture of pauperism must increase faster than all her other manufactures. CHAPTER XI. LEIPSIC— BOOK TRADE— ITS EFFECTS ON THE LITERATURE— ON THE CHARACTER— ON THE SOCIAL ECONOMY OF THE GERMANS.- THE GER- MAN THEATRE— ITS INFLUENCE.— THE EDUCATIONAL INFLUENCES IN SOCIETY.— THE SCOTCH AND THE GERMANS COMPARED. Leipsic, remarkably in contrast with Berlin, is a city of the middle ages — balconies projecting into the streets, old forms and. fashions about the people and their dwellings, — nothing of the Parisian air, nothing of the Frenchified German air about them. Everything is downright German, and plain unsophisticated Ger- man burgess style. This is the capital of the middle class of Ger- many — of the class which has nothing to do with nobility, or with military, or civil service as a way of living, which has not its great money merchants, bankers, contractors of loans, million- aires, like Frankfort; but has its very substantial, and some very wealthy, quiet-living burgesses. The traveller who could get into the domestic society of this town — which even native Ger- mans cannot easily do — would sec, it is said, more of old Ger- many, more of the houses, habits, and modes of living of two centuries ago, than in any other place. A very respectable peo- ple these Leipsicers are, and precisely because they affect to be nothing more. Their book trade is of such importance, that the booksellers, of whom there are reckoned at the fairs about 560, and many of them settled in Leipsic, have a large exchange of their own to transact their business in. It is not, however, the printing and publishing in Leipsic itself, that is the basis of these book fairs, but the barter of publications between booksellers meeting there from different points. The bookseller, pnrhaps. from Kiel on the Baltic, meets and exchanges publications with the bookseller, perhaps, from Zurich, gives so many copies of his publication — a dull sermon possibly — for so many of the other's — an entertaining novel. Each gets an assortment of goods by this traffic, such as he knows will suit his customers, out of a 254 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. publication of which he could not, perhaps, sell a score of copies within his own circle ; but a score sold in every bookselling circle in Germany gets rid of an edition. Suppose the work out and out stupid and unsaleable, still it has its value ; it is exchangeable, should it be only at the value of wrapping-paper, for works less unsaleable, and puts the publisher in possession of a saleable stock and of a variety of works. His profit also not depending altogether upon the merit of the one work he publishes, but upon the assortment for sale he can make out of it by barter, he can afford to publish works of a much lower class as to merit, or sale- able properties, than English publishers. The risk is divided, and also the loss, and not merely divided among all the booksellers who take a part of an edition in exchange for part of their own publications ; but in effect is divided among the publications. The standard work, or the new publication of an author of celebrity, pays the risk or loss of the publisher of the bad, unsaleable work, as by it he is put in possession of the former, of the more saleable goods. The loss, also, compared to that of an English publisher, is trifling, because, although the German press can deliver mag- nificent books, yet the general taste of the public for neat, fine, well-finished productions in printing as in all the useful arts, is not by any means so fully developed as with us, and is satisfied with very inferior paper made of much cheaper materials. The publisher also is saved the very important expense of stitching, boarding, or binding all he publishes, by his own capital, the private buyer generally taking his books in sheets. The bound or made-up books in booksellers' shops are but few, and generally only those of periodical or light literature. The advantage to ' literature of this system into which the book trade has settled is, that hundreds of works see the light, which with us would never get to the printing-house at all. The disadvantage is, that it en- courages a prolixity of style, both in thinking and expression ; two or three ideas are spun out into a volume, and literature is actually overwhelmed and buried under its own fertility and fruits. No human powers could wade through the flood of pub- lication poured out every half year upon every conceivable sub- ject. Selection even, in such an overwhelming mass, is out of the question, unless the catalogue-selection of judging from the repu- tation of the author, that the book may be worth reading. In our small book-world, periodical criticism — our quarterlies and lite- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 255 rary newspapers — keeps the ordinary reader up to the current stream of literary production ; but who could get through the pile of periodicals published in Germany, and find time to eat, drink, and sleep ? It is as at their table d'hote — the guest tastes this thing, and tastes that, and rises without having made so whole- some and substantial a meal as he would have done from one or two dishes. This superabundance, and the excess of employ- ment to the mind about otlier people's ideas, influences the gene- ral literature of Germany. Men whose talents entitle them to be original in literary production, are but imitative. Their great original authors, Goethe, Schiller, or Richter, or our great authors, Shakspeare, Scott, Byron, give the tunes which the crowd of German writers are whistling through the streets. This imitative turn, and the excess of literary production, influence even the material interests and character of the German people. In poli- tics, in social economy, in religion, and perhaps even in morals and the regulation of conduct, principles and opinions seem to have no time to take root, and to influence the actual doings of men— conviction is bnt loosely connected with action. The lat- ter by no means follows the former, even when not drawn aside by prejudice, passion, or self-interest. All is speculation, not reality. 'Every German seems to have two worlds for himself — a world of idea, and a world of reality; and the former appears to have as little connection with the latter, as the evening of the monarch on the stage with the morning of the actor in his lodg- ings. This division of life into two distinct existences, this living in a world of reveries, this wide separation between ideas and reali- ties, between thoughts and actions, common perhaps to all men of intellectual cultivation, is so widely difl'used in Germany that it sensibly influences its social economy. All evaporates in spe- culation. Books, and theories, atid principles are published and read, and there the matter rests. A new set of books, theories, and principles are published, and overwhelm the first, but all this never goes beyond the world of idea in which half their existence is passed. Improvement, reform, movement of any kind in social business or real life, either for the better or the worse, stand still, because real life is but half their existence. Leave them the other half, their ideal world, to expatiate in — and that cannot be circumscribed by any kind of government — and they quietly put up with restrictions and burdens in real life which in our social 256 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. economy would not be endured. Energy of mind and vigour of action in the real affairs of ordinary life are diluted and weakened by this life of dreamy spec^ulation. We sometimes see individuals among ourselves, novel-reading, romantic youths, forming a little world for themselves from the shelves of the circulating library, and dreaming away life in it. The literature, scholarship, and wide diffusion of the culture of the imaginative faculty in Ger- many, are in this view actually detrimental to the social develop- ment of the German people, to their industry, material interests, and activity in ordinary affairs of a mechanical kind, and to their energy and interestin claiming and exercising civil liberty or free- agency in real life. This double existence of the Germans accounts for some pecu- liarities in German literature. German authors, both the philo- sophic and the poetic, address themselves to a public far more intellectual, and more highly cultivated than our reading public. They address themselves, in fact, in their philosophical works, like the ancient Greek philosophers, to schools or bodies of dis- ciples, who must have attained a peculiar and considerable culti- vation of mind to understand them. The philosophy of Kant occupied Schiller, v/e are told in his biography, for three years of intense and exclusive study. In our literature, the most obscure and abstruse of metaphysical or philosophical writers take the public mind in a far lower state, simply cognizant of the meaning of language, and possessed of the ordinary reasoning powers. Locke, Dugald Stewart, Reid, Smith, Hume, require nothing more. Shakspeare, Scott, Byron require nothing more. German literature, even of the imaginative class, requires a highly culti- vated imaginative faculty from the readers.- Goethe's Faust, his Wilhelm Meister, many of Schiller's tragedies, all of Jean Paul Richter's productions, require readers trained, like the readers of Kant or Fichte, in a certain school, and to a certain considerable intellectual culture. Their philosophers and poets do not, hke ours, address themselves to the meanest capacity. The social influence of German literature is, consequently, confined within a narrower circle. It has no influence on the miiid of the lower, or even of the middle classes in active life, who have not the op- portunity or leisure to screw their faculties up to Ihe pitch-note of their great writers. The reading public must devote much time to acquire the knowledge, tone of feeling, and of imagination NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 257 necessary to follow the writing public. The social economist finds accordingly in Germany'the most extraordinary dullness, inertness of mind, and ignorance, below a certain level, with the most extraordinary intellectual development, learning, and genius at or above it — the most extraordinary intellectual contrast be- tween the professional reading classes and the lower or even middle non-reading classes engaged in the ordinary affairs of life. Another peculiarity in German literature arising from the social economy of the country is, that the class of literary composition to which the works of Shakspeare, Cervantes, Scott, Le Sage, Fielding, Goldsmith, belong as pictures of natural action and character, is poorly filled up. Situation and plot, not deUneations of characters and incidents " true to nature," are the points on which the highest efforts of dramatic and poetic genius in German literature are the most happy. It is in the ideal world that the German mind is developed. The action of man upon man, the development of character and individual peculiarity by free social movement, are so restricted and tied down to uniformity by the social economy of Germany, that the author in this class of com- position finds no type of reality around him for the imagination to work upon. It would be difficult to point out any character, speech or passage from the German drama that has become popular literature— understood, felt, brought home to himself by the common man in Germany, in the same way that characters, expressions, verses, sentiments from Shakspeare, Burns, De Foe, Scott, are familiar to all of the slightest education in the same classes in Scotland or England. German literature is perhaps of a far higher cast, but it is not so widely diflused through the mass of the social body as our literature, although the class of people addicting themselves to it as a means of living are more nume- rous than the literary class in Britain ; and German literature is certainly less influential than ours on the public mind and social economy. The theatre in Germany, and in all countries which have no civil liberty, no freedom of action independent of government, and no free discussion of public affairs, occupies an important position in its social economy, is reckoned a great educational and social influence, a power not to be entrusted out of the hands of the state. The fictitious incidents of the drama supersede the real incidents and interests of life. In reading: of the organization 258 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of the Prussian government, the simple English reader stares at finding among the ministers of state for home affairs, for military- affairs, for ecclesiastical affairs, a minister of state for theatrical affairs. He can understand that from considerations of police, the theatre may be, as with us, under a censorship, and its super- intendence attached to some office about the court; but that theatres are of such importance as to be held a subject for distinct administration, and one on which considerable suras of the public revenues are regularly expended, appears extraordinary to one coming from our social state, in which dramatic representation is of no social influence whatsoever — in which it is held to be of no moral or educational value — in which theatrical performers of high talent cannot get bread in cities as populous and wealthy as Berlin. The social economist hastens to visit the German theatres, to satisfy himself that there is no mistake about this supposed social influence of the stage — to see the working of this court- machine for education on the public mind — to see the number and quality of the usual kind of audiences, as much as to see the play. Germany is reckoned to have 65 theatres, employing about 2,147 actors and actresses, about 1,229 singers, male and female, about 448 dancers, and about 1,273 fiddlers and other musicians. About 5,000 people in all are on the theatrical establishments of Germany as the personale, without including tradesmen or others not on the boards. The Hof-theaier, or court theatre, is a neces- sary appendage to every little residence or capital ; and it is un- derstood that the deficit in the expense of a well-appointed theatre in a small population is made up by the state. In Berlin, even with a great and pleasure-seeking population, it is said the theatres cost the country about 15,000/. a year, besides the receipts. At Berlin there are three theatres in constant work, Sunday evenings notexcepted,and an Italian and a French troupe are also in activity part of the year. The houses are of moderate size, elegant, and in scenery, dresses, and especially in the orchestral department, very perfect. The prices of admission are extremely low. In Berlin, for instance, you pay 15 groshen at the German theatre, or 20 at the Italian opera, viz., 1*. 6d. or 2^, for a seat in the par- quet, or front division of the pit of our theatres, with the advan- tage that each sitting is numbered, and the seat folded back, and your ticket bears the number of your seat, so that be the house NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 259 ever so fall, you get to it without squeezing or crowding :— great inducements these to go to the play. The time and patience of the public, also, as well as their money, are respected by these state players. Owing, no doubt, to their superior discipline, a long five act tragedy — such, for instance, as Schiller's Marie Sleio- art or Cabale und Z/eZ>e,— which with us would keep the audi- ence gaping till half-past eleven, or perhaps till midnight, is per- formed between six and half-past nine. The play-bill tells when the performance ends, as well as when it begins, and even when three pieces are given, half-past nine is the latest hour. These are imquestionably great inducements to a good theatrical attend- ance of the public. But governments cannot force the intellectual movement of a people. They may establish schools, theatres, and churches as educational means, but the using these means must be the impulse of the people themselves. You look in vain for the public in a German theatre. The public is more scarce in it than in our own. You see the travelling strangers, and the young people of the middle class, such as clerks, tradesmen, or students, when any celebrated actor or play appears ; and on opera nights the upper classes: but the people, the real people, the German equivalent, if there be any, to John Bull, you never see. If this lower class ever come to the theatres at all, they sit as quiet as mice in the little hole allotted them. A German theatre is a true picture of the Social state of Germany — princes and functionaries occupying the front boxes — the educated and mid- dle classes looking up to them from the pit below, in breathless awe and admiration, and the people out of sight and hearing of these two masses of the audience. As a social influence acting on the public mind, the German stage is of as little real importance as our own. It has to rear for itself the kind of public to whom it is of any importance. A theatrical corps and expenditure no doubt does raise a public for itself in the towns, and to them the theatre becomes important, perhaps a great deal too important, and too influential in educating the mind of that class to a sort of dreamy, imaginative, inactive life, to an undue value for appear- ance, show, and dress, and to an inaptness to encounter the rough realities of their social position. The social influence of the drama is in this class — and this is the only class it efl'ectually works upon — a positive evil, not a good. What are the social institutions which educate a people, which 260 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. form their moral, intellectual, and national character ? In this land of schools and theatres, here where every individual is drilled into reading, writing, and the catechism, and the church, the play- house, and the press, are all under the special management of the governments as influential means for the improvement of the people, in what state is the mind of the people in Germany morally and intellectually? To come to any satisfactory conclusion on these questions, we must define what is meant by the people. The continental man generally means by the people the lower ranks of the middle class — the artisans, journeymen, servants, and tradesmen about towns, living more or less by educated labour, and having some degree of taste, leisure, and refinement. We mean by the people the labouring class of a nation, living principally by agricultural work, and in every country constituting the mass of the popula- tion. We milst compare this lower class in Germany Avith the same class among ourselves, and endeavour to find out the differ- ence, and the causes of the difference, in the physical and intel- lectual condition in each country of this lowest class of all in the community. It is a peculiar feature in the social condition of our lowest labouring class in Scotland, that none, perhaps, in Europe of the same class have so few physical, and so many intellectual wants and gratifications. Luxury or even comfort in diet, or lodging, is unknown. Oatmeal, milk, potatoes, kail, herrings, and rarely salt meat, are the chief food; a wretched, dark, damp, mud-floored hovel, the usual kind of dwelling ; dirt, disorder, sluttishness, and not too much good temper at the fireside, the ordinary habits of living; yet with these wants and discomforts in their physical condition, which is far below that of the same class abroad, we never miss a book, perhaps a periodical, a sitting in the kirk, a good suit of clothes for Sunday wear, and an argument every day amounting to controversy, almost to quarrel, with some equally argumentacious neighbour upon subjects far above the reach of mind of the common man in other countries, and often carried on with an acuteness, intelligence, and play of mental power, especially in the discussion of abstract philosophical or religious subjects, which the educated classes in other countries scarcely attain, and which are strangely in contrast with the wants in their physical condition. The labouring man's subscriptions in NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 261 Scotland to his book-club, his newspaper turn, his Bible society, his missionary society, his kirk and minister if he be a seceder, and his neighbourly aid of the distressed, are expenditure upon intellectual and moral gratifications of a higher cast than music- scraping, singing, dancing, play-going, novel-reading, or other diversions of a much higher class of people in Germany. Tiie Scotch labouring man gives yearly considerable contributions to spread civilization and Christianity among people much better off, far more daintily fed, lodged, and clothed, in more physical com- fort, and much farther removed from the wants and hardships of an uncivilized condition, than he is iiimself. This may be foolish, ' but it is noble and ennobling in the character of the lowest class of a people. The half-yearly shilling given in all sincerity of purpose by the cottar-tenant of a turf-built hovel on a barren Scotch muir-land, to aid the missions for converting the South Sea Islanders or the Hindoos, is the noblest-paid money, as far as regards the giver, in the queen's dominions. There is also in the mind of the common man of Scotland an imaginative thread interwoven somehow, and often very queerly, with his hard, dry, precise way of thinking and acting in ordinary affairs, which makes the whole labouring class in Scotland of higher intellectu- ality than the same class in other countries. We often hear, what country but Scotland ever produced a Burns among her peasantry? But the real question of the social economist is, what country but Scotland ever produced a peasantry for whom a Burns could write .'' Burns had a public of his own in his own station in life who could feel and appreciate his poetry, long before he was known to the upper class of Scotch people, and in fact he was never known or appreciated by the upper class. In other coun- tries it is the poetry of the higher educated class that works down to the people ; as the poetry of Ariosto or Tasso, among the Ital- ians; of the Niebelung, of the Saga, of the lays of the Trouba- dours, among the German, Scandinavian, and French people ; or as ballads of Burger, Goethe, and Schiller are said to be now working downwards in Germany, and becoming folks-lieder — the songs and poetry of the people. But where have been poets belonging to the labouring class called into song by their own class? This is more extraordinary than the genius of the individual himself, this genius of the class for whom he com- posed. Is there any spark of this intellectual spirit among the 262 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. common labouring people in_the finer soils and climates of Eu- rope ? or does the little exertion of mind with which all physical wants may be supplied, and many physical enjoyments obtained in abundance, tend to form a heavy, material, unintellectual cha- racter among the labouring class in Germany, which is confirmed by the state of pupilage and non-exertion of mind in which they are educated and kept by their governments; while the mind of the Scotch labouring man is stirred up and in perpetual exercise by the self-dependence, exertion, privation, forethought, moral restraint, and consideration required in his social position, in which • neither climate nor poor-rate, neither natural nor artificial facili- ties of living without thinking, allow him to sink into apathy or mental indolence ? But there are other educational influences, of far more import- ant action in forming the intellectual character of a people than schools or theatres, which the German people want, and the British possess. The social economist, who reflects upon our crowded open courts of law in the ordinary course of their busi- ness at Westminister Hall, or at the Court of Session, at the as- sizes or circuits or sherifl'-courts, in short, wherever any kind of judicial business is going on, and upon the eagerness and atten- tion with which the common people follow out the proceedings even in cases of no public interest, will consider the bar, with its public oral pleadings, examinations of witnesses, and reasonings on events, a most important instrument in our national education. Whoever attends to the ordinary run of conversation among our middle and lower classes will think it no exaggeration to say, that the bar is more influential perhaps than the pulpit, in forming the public mind, and in educating and exercising the mental powers of the people. It is a perpetual exercise in applying principle to actions, and actions to principle. This unceasing course of moral and intellectual education, enjoyed by our very lowest class in every locality, is wanting in Germany in general, owing to the different mode of judicial procedure in closed courts, by written pleadings or private hearings of argument, and private examina- tions of facts and witnesses. Law and justice are, perhaps, as well administered in the one way as in the other; but the effects on the public mind, on the moral training of the character, and on the intellectuality and judgment of the common people, are very different. All schools for the people, all S3^stems of national NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 263 education sink into insignificance, compared to the working of this vast open school for the public mind. We see its influence in the public press. Law cases are found to be the most interesting as well as the most instructive reading for the people, and our newspapers fill their columns with them. This taste has arisen also in France, since France has enjoyed open courts of law ; and it is one of the most striking proofs of the social progress of the French people, that their theatres are deserted, and their courts of law crowded, and that their popular newspapers now report all interesting civil or criminal law cases. Another great educational influence wanting in Germany, is the moving moral diorama of human affairs and interests pre- sented to the public mind by our newspaper press. This litera- ture of the common people is unknown in Germany. Foreign newspapers do not furnish food for the mind of the common man. The newspaper public abroad is of a higher, more intellectual, more educated cast, than ours ; but therefore more circumscribed — a public of professional men, functionaries, scholars, men of acquirements far above those of the mass of the people. It is to them, not to the people, that the press, both the literary and the periodical, and the pulpit also, in Germany, address themselves, by far too exclusively ; and the mass of the people, the labourers and peasantry, are lost sight of If we come down in German literature to what is intelligible to this lowest class, we find a great vacuity not filled up by those daily or weekly accounts of the real affairs and local business passing around them, which our country newspapers furnish to the, mind of the common man, and which exercise and educate his intellectual and moral powers. The strictness — pharisaical strictness it may be — with which the repose of Sunday is observed in England, and particularly in Scotland — the complete abstinence not merely from work, but from amusement, is unquestionably a powerful educational influ- ence in our social economy. Its religious value'^is not here con- sidered. It may possibly produce as much hypocrisy as piety. But viewing it simply in its influence on the intellectual culture of a people, and comparing its effects with the intellectual culture produced by the round of amusement to which Siuiday is devoted on the Continent, the social economist will not hesitate to say that our strict observance, where it is the voluntary action of the public mind, and not an observance enforced bv kirk sessions and town 264 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. baillies, is of a higher educational tendency, and both indicates and produces a more intellectual character. The common man is thrown by it upon his own mental resources, reflections, and ideas, be they religious or not. He is not a mere recipient of fatigue for six days, and of amusement for one, without thought or mental exertion in the one state more than in the other — which is the Continental man's existence ; but for one day he is in repose, and, without taking religion at all into consideration, is in a state of leisure in which he is thrown back upon reflection, judgment, memory of what he knows or has heard, and upon considering and reasoning upon his own affairs, whether spiritual or temporal. It is a valuable pause from manual labour, which, if filled up by mere amusement, is lost as to intellectual culture. The want of religious dissent, and consequently of religious discussion among the people, is also the want of a powerful means of educating, and sharpening by controversy, the intel- lectual faculties of the lower orders of Germany. The want also of public or common business, small or great, to discuss, or influence by their opinions or votes, and in which they can act freely, and according to their own will and judg- ment, without superintendence and control, tells fearfully against the development of the human intellect in this lower class in Germany. It is the same cause, only in less intensity of force — viz., the want of exercise and excitement -of the mental powers — which reduces to idiotcy or imbecility the inmate of the silent penitentiary. Here in Germany, the government, and the whole social economy of the country, remove systematically all exercise of mental powers from the people, and reduce the common work- ing German peasantry, the lowest but greatest class in the com- munity, to a lower state or intellectuality than we are acquainted with in Great Britain ; where, even in the most remote and soli- tary situations, there is, owing to the nature of our social economy and institutions, a perpetual stream of exciting and educating influences and circumstances acting on the mind of the common man. Here, this lowest class of the population are, intellectually, but big children who know their letters. They are in a state of extreme inertness of mind. Take one of our uneducated people who can neither write nor read, converse with him, try his good sense, his judgment, his powers of comprehending, deciding, and acting within his sphere, and we find that the education of reali- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 265 ties in our free social state, through which this ignorant man's mind has passed in the various exciting circumstances which in our social condition daily exercise the faculties of every man in every station, has actually brought him to a higher intellectual and moral state — has made him a more thinking, energetic, right- acting character, than the passive human beings of the same class in Germany, who have had the education of the schools, but without the practical exercise of the mental powers afterwards in their social relations. The blessings of shool education let no man undervalue; but in our zeal for the education of the people let us not take the show for the substance, and imagine their education to consist in reading and writing, and not in the exercise and enjoyment of their own mental powers as free agents, acting in their own civil, political, moral, and religious duties as men and members of society. Na- tional schools,and theatres, and all that can be taught or represented by governments on the German system, are but poor substitutes for that education through the real business of life which can only be given to a people by free social institutions. 18 CHAPTER XII. NOTES ON THE CORN LAW QUESTION— ABROAD AND AT HOME. The landed interest and the moneyed, the gentry and the capi- taUsts, have been tilting with each other for twenty years in our literary and parliamentary arena, about the corn law question, for- getting altogether a third interest in the field, the mother of them both, with a vastly more important stake in the issue — the labour- ing interest. How will this greatest of all interests be affected by the abolition of all import duty on corn. It is taken for granted by the moneyed interest, and faintly de- nied by the landed, that the condition of the working class will be improved, or at least not deteriorated, by the reduction of the price of bread to the same rate as the Continental price. But this position is by no means satisfactorily investigated, much less proved. A reduction of the wages of labour is generally admitted to be a necessary consequence of a permanent reduction of the cost of the main article of the subsistence of the labouring class. That is, indeed, the main object avowed by all the political econo- mists who advocate the abolition of duties on corn. Their avowed object is to enable our manufacturers to compete in the cost of production with the foreign manufacturers in the foreign market. Their main argument is, that the consequent reduction in the cost of production, that is, in the wages of labour, will set capital free , for new and more extensive employment of labour — will in effect throw one-third or one-half more capital into the labour market, if the reduced price of bread to the labourer works out a propor- tional reduction, to the extentof one-half or one-third, in the price of his labour : and the labourer, it is contended, will not be worse off with, we shall suppose, six shillings per week of wages, and the quartern loaf at four-pence, than with twelve shillings a week, and the quartern loaf at eight-pence — and will in fact be better off, by the difference of one-half of the capital now employed in paying NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 267 his wages, or rather the tax upon his bread, being set free for pro- duction and new and extended employment for labour. This is the present state of the argument, and of the parties, in this great social question. Let us examine this argument. The ordinary average price of bread, potatoes, or whatever may be the ordinary food of the labourer, regulates, it is generally admitted, the ordinary average rate of his wages ; although the demand for labour and its supply in the labour market may for a short time raise it above, or sink it below, the ordiiiary average rate ; the tendency always is for the supply, as in other markets, to come up to the demand, and reduce the value of labour to the ordinary rate fixed by the cost of subsistence. Now in what way- will the labouring interest be benefited by having the ordinary average value of their property — for their labour is their property, and the only property of this interest, as land or capital is the property of the other two interests — permanently reduced ? It is no advantage to them to create more property of the same kind as their own, that is to say, more labour, to come into the labour market in competition with their property. It is an advantage clearly enough to the master-manufacturers who have to buy their property, that is, their labour : but how is it an advantage to them who have to sell it? New and extended employment, new capital set free, to the extent of one-half or one-third, or whatever it may be, for the employment of more labour, can only have the perma- nent effect of producing one-half or one-third more labourers, and joining them to a body already overcharged with numbers — of creating more of an article with which the market is already over- stocked, by way of raising its value. This seems not very sound reasoning in political economy on the part of those who advocate the abolition. The temporary effect can only last for a few weeks, or months, or years ; and then the new demand is met by an equivalent supply in the labour market, and the whole labouring interest suffers a deterioration in the value of their property. But, it is argued, this deterioration is apparent only — is only in the money value of labour, not in its value compared to the cost of subsistence; and if that fall in proportion, if six shillings a week will command as many quartern loaves then as twelve shillings u week will do now, this deterioration is no loss to the labouring class; but, on the contrary, by enriching rtnd multiplying their employers, is indirectly a gain to them. There is a flaw in this 268 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. argument. Although the cost of bread, the main article of the labourer's subsistence, regulates in the long run the ordinary average rate of his wages, man in any state of well-being does not subsist upon bread alone. Now when his wages are regulated by an ordinary average price of eight-pence or a shilhng for a quartern loaf, if he spares two loaves a week in his family consumpt of bread, he has his sixteen-pence or two shillings to expend in meat, milk, tea, sugar, spirits, or whatever he chooses to make the equivalent in his diet for the two loaves ; but if his wages be regulated by an ordinary average price of four-pence for the quar- tern loaf, his saving of two loaves, his eight-pence, will buy no equivalent; for meat will not necessarily fall in proportion to the price of bread, nor milk, cheese, butter — still less will house rent, fuel, or the taxed commodities, beer, coffee, tea, sugar, tobacco. The condition of the labouring man will evidently be deteriorated by lowering the money value of his labour, unless one and all of the objects he habitually consumes be also lowered in proportion and not the one alone upon which his rate of wages more or less depends. It wants the appearance at least of a disinterested spirit of legislation on the part of the moneyed interest, to demand the abolition of all duties upon that one article which is usually con- sidered to regulate the wages of the labouring interest, leaving all the other articles which enter into the consumpt of that interest, and constitute its comforts and well-being, more outof their reach by the consequences of this abolition than they were before. To be consistent, and above all suspicion of seeking a benefit only for one class at the expense of another, the advocates of the abolition of the duties on corn should propose the reduction at the same time of all the taxes which affect the labouring man in his lodging, housekeeping, diet, and civilized tastes and gratifications ; such as the timber duties, glass duties, malt duties, duties on coffee, tea, sugar, tobacco, paper, and a thousand others ; as well as on that one article of which the permanent cheapness will lessen his wages, and consequently his means to purchase and enjoy the others. If it be argued, as some political economists do, that corn permanently cheap will not necessarily lower the price of labour, then is the abolition of the corn laws shorn of the main argument on which it is urged; viz., that by diminishing the price of labour our master-manufacturers will be able to compete in the foreign market with the cheap production of the countries which have no NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 269 duties on corn. These political economists tell us it is the amount of labour in the labour market, and the greater or smaller demand for it in proportion to the supply, that regulate the value or wages of labour, and not the price of corn. But it is the low or high price of this primary article of food that in the present con- dition of the labouring class regulates the facility or difficulty of marriage among this greatest mass of society ; and a perma- nently low price of corn produces naturally and necessarily that superabundance of labour which reduces its value in the labour market. It is only shifting the load from one shoulder to the other to say that it is the abundance of labour in the labour market that produces a low rate of wages, and not the abun- dance of corn. The abundance of corn produces by natural operation abundance of labour, and the abundance of labour produces a cheap rate of it. The causes are the same, not distinct. It is cheap corn operating on the labour market, at one remove from its effect. The question remains as before — is the low rate or value of labour naturally produced— whether directly and im- mediately, or indirectly and gradually, is not of importance here — by the low rate of corn, of any real advantage to the already existing labouring interest, whose whole property is their labour? It is compatible with the well-being and physical comfort of this great majority of society, without a proportional reduction to the reduction of his wages, of the price of all that the labouring man habitually consumes, as well as of his bread alone ? If the three interests, the landed, the moneyed, and the labouring, were all starting into existence under a social economy or system of go- vernment which had a clean sheet of paper before it, the abolition of a tax so absurd as that on corn, or on any article necessary to a civilized existence, could not meet with a doubt; but to reduce a portion only of the artificial system which blots the sheet, and that only in favour of one interest, leaving the other two more heavily burdened, in consequence, with the evils, real or imagi- nary, of all the rest of tlic artificial system, would not, in itself, and apart from all other considerations, be equitable or wise legislation. It is very possible that such a proportional reduction of all duties and taxes on the objects which enter into the use and consumpt of the labouring interest could not be eflfected without a national bankruptcy, or a stringent tax on property ; but it is not on that account the more just to make the labouring interest the scape-goat for the other two, and to reduce their means of civilized living. 270 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. The moneyed interest would clearly be a gainer by a reduced value of labour. The landed interest would perhaps not on the whole suffer so much as the landlords apprehend. It would be a change in the manner of obtaining their quota of the produce of their land, rather than in the amount. But the labouring interest would clearly be a loser, as all the comforts and enjoyments of life, bread alone excepted, would be more out of their reach than at present. Of bread they would earn no more quartern loaves by a week's work than now, although the loaf would only be half of its present value, and would only exchange for half of Avhat it now does of the other necessaries or comforts of life for which the labourer has to exchange its value. It would, in reality, be an adulteration of the coin in which labour is valued and paid. In a question so important, delusion should be carefully re- moved. It is delusion to believe with Mr. Jacob, Dr. Bowring, and other great statistical authorities — however consolatory and comforting the belief may be to the country squires and lairds on the parliamentary committees on the corn laws — that wheat can- not be shipped at Dantzick under 45^., or 35s., or any other price. The delusion arises from applying ideas drawn from our English state of society and agriculture to a social and agricultural econo- my altogether different. It is only in Britain, and a few densely inhabited manufacturing districts on the Continent, that tenants of capital paying money-rents can be said to exist. They are the exception, not the rule, among the husbandry class of Europe. They can only exist where there is a co-existent class of con- sumers within reach for every kind of agricultural produce ; where there is no capital to buy, it is but forced and unnatural work to produce; and where only one kind of agricultural produce— corn — can find a market, and all the succession crops, owing to the small demand in proportion to the supply of meat, butter, cheese, and such secondary farm produce, give no remunerating prices, regular farming on our system cannot exist. Where winter also interrupts all out-door farm work, not as with us, only for a few days occasionally, and rarely for several weeks, but for many successive months of frost and snow, all farming speculations on the great scale, with hired servants on wages, and improved sys- tems of husbandry, are delusive, and are only successful in a very few localities. Farming on the Continent cannot generally be carried on upon the Scotch or English system, in which man and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 271 horse every day of the year are reprodactively employed in farm work. The Metayer system is the only mode of letting land that is practicable, generally speaking, in the corn-growing countries which supply the British markets. In this Metayer system the landlord provides the land, houses, utensils, and seed ; the tenant finds the labour ; and the crops are divided between the two parties, after deducting the seed, horse-corn, and bread until the next crop, in proportions according to their respective furnishings towards the production, or according to usage or agreement. From not considering, this agricultural arrangement, which is almost universal on the Continent, Mr. Jacob and other writers on the corn laws have fallen into the delusion that wheat and other grain cannot be shipped from the Continent permanently, or for a series of years, under certain prices, and have given themselves infinite trouble to collect the opinions of consuls and corn-dealers at the different shipping ports, on the minimum prices at which grain could be shipped in their localities. Now, it is quite true that in our British system of agriculture there is a minimum price — the cost of production — below which corn, like any other article of human manufacture, cannot permanently settle. The capital, time, and labour for its reproduction would soon be turned to something else, and the supply would soon right itself, and right the price, as in all other applications of capital to produc- tion. But in the Metayer system— and all the corn of Europe that is exported to us is produced under this system of husbandry — there is no minimum to the price of corn. The capital of reproduction is always present in the shape of corn, and, together with the labour and management, is provided fv)r out of the crop in the first place, and is in no way diminished or afl'ected by the price or quantity of the overplus sent to market. The seed, the husbandman's food, that of his cattle, labourers, and extra la- bourers, if any are employed in prospective operations, are taken off before any of the crop is brought into the shape of rent to the landlord, or profit to the tenant; and whether that surplus which goes for rent and farmer's profit sell for 45?., or 45d. per quarter, in no way affects the means of reproduction next sea- son. If this surplus never sell at all, but, as is said to be often the case, perishes year after year on the banks of the rivers, or in the granaries of Dantzick, from want of demand, the income of the noble, and the profit of his Metayer tenant are, no doiil)t, re- 272 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. duced to the mere use they can make in their households of the products of the land ; but the capital of reproduction next sea- son remains the same as if their surplus had sold for 45s. per quarter, or any other price. This essential difference between the working of the Metayer system of husbandry and our British system, has been altogether overlooked by political economists. Some writers, who have observed the inferior husbandry of the Continent, have imagined that the opening of the British mar- kets to foreign grain would alter this Metayer system, and intro- duce a system of agriculture similar to that of England and Scotland. This, too, is a delusion. It is only one article of agricultural produce — corn — that England buys, or needs ; and returns for capital laid out in farming cannot be made out of one article alone of farm produce — not even in England. It is out of the whole succession of crops in the rotation, the grass crops and green crops as well as corn crops, that farming capital is replaced. An extraordinary demand for one article, as for wheat, can only have the effect of making the farmer scourge his land to produce that one article. Besides, agricultural im- provement consists mainly in the judicious economy of labour. But on the Continent there is no outlet for surplus labour, or for a superfluous agricultural population, in manufacturing districts or colonies. The land must support the people either as labour- ers or paupers ; so that large farms with few hands comparatively living upon the produce, are impracticable abroad, as a general arrangement of the agricultural land. The military system, adopted by all the continental powers since the peace, is also an impediment to such a free circulation of labour from place to place as such an improvement in the system of husbandry would require. It is a delusion, also, before touched upon, arising from the ap- plication of ideas drawn from our English social economy to the conthiental social economy, to argue, as many do, and from very correct principles in the abstract of political economy, that the more we take of foreign time and labour involved in their com- modity — corn — the more foreigners will take of our time and labour involved in our commodity— manufactured goods. On the Continent every family, even in towns not inconsiderable, manu- factures for itself — buys little or nothing compared to families of the same class in England. The Metayer family has its own raw NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 273 material of clothing, viz., flax, hemp, wool, hides, raised by itself; has house-room and time — idle time in winter— to work them up, not indeed into very fine, but into very wearable stuff, by their own and their domestics' work; and no amount of capital thrown into their hands as the price of their corn could change those habits of a population which are almost produced by, or at least very closely connected with, their climate, husbandry, mode of existence, and whole social economy. The whole agricultural population, if not manufacturing in some way — spinning, weaving, making household goods, working in iron, wood, or cloth, for their own use, during the winter months — would be totally idle all the winter half year. It is a saving of time with us to buy all, and make nothing at home. It would be a waste of time on the Con- tinent not to make at home all that can be made. It has been pointed out alreaciy as the main impediment to the success of the German commercial league, that owing to this circumstance in the social economy of Germany the home market, on which alone any great industrial prosperity can be founded, is, and always will be, inconsiderable, and insufficient to keep alive any great development of manufacturing industry. The superior importance of the home market for all that the manufacturing industry of Great Britian produces, compared to what the foreign market, including even the colonial, takes off, furnishes one of the strongest arguments against the abolition of the corn laws. It is an argument drawn from the quiver of the moneyed interest itself. If the home market, which depends upon the consumpt of the many, be injured by a deficiency of the means among the many to buy and consume, and a reduction of the wages of labour by a reduction of the cost of subsistence is clearly a reduction of the means to expend in the home market, it is killing the goose that laid the golden eggs to reduce the wages of labour for the sake of the foreign market for our manufactures. Political economists tell us that the export of our industrial pro- ducts, including even the consumpt of our colonies, is by no means of that magnitude that any real interests of our labouring class should be sacrificed for the foreign market ; and that it is not the basis of our manufacturing prosperity. The home consumpt, not the foreign, is undeniably that which the great mass of British manufacturing labour and capital is engaged in supplying. Take away from the home consumers the means to consume — that is. 274 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the high and artificial value of their labour, or rate of wages, produced by the working of the corn laws— and you stop this home market. You cut off the spring from which it is fed. You sacrifice a certain home market for an uncertain foreign market. You sacrifice four-fifths for the chance of augmenting one-fifth. If the one-fifth, the foreign consumpt, could be augmented so as to equal the four-fifths, the home consumpt, it would still be a question of very doubtful policy whether it should be so aug- mented ; whether the means of living of so large a proportion of the productive classes should be made to depend so entirely upon a demand which political circumstances might suddenly cut ofi". It is computed or guessed at, by political economists, that one and a half million of familes, or 8,200,000 individmils, of whom one- half may be taken as grown men, are employed in all the depart- ments of industry that can strictly be called manufacturing ; and that of these one-eleventh part only is employed for the foreign consumer. It is the peculiar advantage and security of our manu- facturing industry and prosperity that it does not altogether de- pend upon the foreign market ; yet the vicissitudes in the condition of those employed in supplying the home market are sufficiendy frequent and grievous. But if, instead of 800,000 or a million of persons employed in manufacturing for the foreign market, we had eight millions depending upon a demand which every petty political misunderstanding among the European powers might obstruct, would this be, morally or politically, an advantageous position ? Would it be wise policy to call into existence a labour- ing population equal to that now supported by the consumpt of their labour in the home market, to be depending entirely upon the still more precarious foreign market ? But, say the advocates for the abolition of the corn laws, it is a question of necessity in British legislation, not of choice. If our manufacturing capitalists cannot get cheap labour at home to enable them to compete in the foreign market with the foreign manufacturer, they will remove to foreign countries with their capital, skill and machinery, and will in reality take our home market with them ; for it is from their ever-circulating capital dif- fused through all the social mass, that the means of consumpt in our home market are derived. With all respect for the many eminent political economists who adopt this argument, it appears very similar to that kind of political wisdom which, with more NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 275 justice than politeness, is caWed—fuc/ffe. Is cheap labour the only- element in cheap production? Arc not clieap and quick com- munications by land and water, fire-power and water-power, ready markets, banking facilities, a vast moneyed body of buyers between the producers and the consumers, quick, diligent habits of work, and an active spirit among the people, a steady consti tutional government, perfect freedom of trade and industry, an impossibility of being disturbed by wars, or military duties, or government interference in the applications of capital and indus- try, as necessary as cheap labour for the beneficial employment of manufacturing capital? Machinery, skill, and capital may no doubt be removed, but not the natural and acquired advantages of Great Britain, without which these are helpless and useless. A few individuals with capital, skill, and government patronage, may, no doubt, make or mar their fortunes on the Continent — as for instance the late Mr. Cockeril's house in Belgium — by estab- lishing iron works, cotton works, or other manufactories ; but the basis of all real manufacturing business, quick, sure, uninterrupted, extensive home consumpt, free circulation, free trade, free industry, buyers to take off every imaginable product of human industry, and for a moderate profit to take upon themselves the chance and delay of finding the ultimate consumers, are all wanting on the Continent. The people are not consumers. Would any sane man transfer his capital from a country with coal fields on the sea- coast, harbours, home markets, banks, and with no natural impedi- ments to industry from the climate either winter or summer, and no artificial impediments from wars or military organization, to establish it in the machinery, buildings, and fixtures, necessary for his manufacture, in countries which have never until now seen twenty years together since the days of the Romans without the visitations and ravages of war in the land, and in which every summer the whole working population, even the hands most necessary in his factory, may be called out to be drilled for weeks together at the whim of the prince ? The people on the Continent are not consumers, nor are they producers. They have not, as work-people, the productiveness of English work-people. The cheapness of their labour is only in appearance. Compared to what it produces, it is in reality dear. The acquired knack, dex- terity, and skill in the operative, arc wanting; and owing to the interruptions from his military service in his regular breeding up 276. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. to his handicraft, the continental operator must always be at best a half-bred workman, producing generally inferior work, and al- ways work which costs much of his time. There is wanting also, from the slow and uncertain markets, and the habits of a people more inactive and sedentary than the British, the alert, prompt, quick, national habit of working to each other, of laying every- thing for example to the operator's hand that he requires, with the same activity, punctuality, and spirit with which he himself works. Whoever looks into the social economy of an English or Scotch manufacturing district in which the population has become tho- roughly imbued with the spirit of productiveness, will observe that it is not merely the expertness, dispatch, and skill of the operative himself, that are concerned in the prodigious amount of his pro- duction in a given time, but the labourer w'ho wheels coals to his fire, the girl who makes ready his breakfast, the whole population; in short, from the pot-boy who brings his beer, to the banker who keeps his employer's cash, are inspired with the same alert spirit — are in fact working to his hand with the same quickness and punc- tuality that he works with himself. English workmen taken to the Continent always complain that they cannot get on with their work as at home, because of the slow, unpunctual, pipe-in-mouth working habits of those who have to work to their hands; and on whom their own activity and productiveness mainly depend. The low demand for quantity or quaUty of goods produces this low activity or productiveness, and this depends upon natural circum- stances affecting the social economy of the continental people — circumstances connected with climate, soil, fuel, extent of country, communications, food, and way of living, which no economical laws can alter. It is certainly not any demonstrated improvement in the condi- tion of our labouring class by the increase of their numbers, and reduction of their wages necessarily following a reduced price of bread, nor is it the magnitude of the amount of employment given by the foreign consumer to our manufacturing industry and capital, nor is it any reasonable fear of the removal to foreign countries of any important proportion of the manufacturing capital and in- dustry of Great Britain, that would lead an unprejudiced man to ' join in the cry for the abolition of the corn laws. On any of these grounds— and no others are usually adduced by the abolitionists — it will be clearly a false step in Political Economy. But Politi- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 277 cal Economy regards only the wealth of nations, not their social well-being, not the good condition, physically and morally, of the people. In social economy this step will produce in Great Britain a most beneficial revolution, radical, yet unfelt in its operation, because spread over a great number of years, as every great social change ought to be, and carrying with it ultimately such an im- provement, such a regeneration of well-being in the condition of the labouring classes both manufacturing and agricultural, that no un- prejudiced man who examines its tendency and ultimate effects on our social economy to the bottom, will hesitate to join in the cry for the abolition of these corn laws. The social economy of the country will be insensibly improved by this step, in the following way. The labour-market of the operative manufacturing population of Great Britain is subject to two distinct kinds of pressure arising from two distinct causes; but iif the reasonings of our political economists and legislators on the causes and remedies of pauper- ism, the two are always slumped together. The one pressure is natural, is caused by the natural tendency of population, in the manufacturing class, as in every other, to increase more rapidly than the means of subsistence; and education, self-restraint, and the tastes and habits of a more elevated standard of living are the only remedies applicable to this tendency. The other pressure is artificial, is caused by a defect in our social economy, by which a perpetual stream is running out of the channel of agricultural labour into the channels of maufacturing labour. The constant tendency of agricultural labour to rush into other branches of industry is very obvious among us, but a re-action we never see. The children of the labourers in husbandry become smiths, car- penters, weavers, or seek a living in the factory; but the children of these factory operatives never betake themselves permanently to husbandry work. The reality of this tendency is not merely proved by observation, or by conclusions drawn from the rapid increase of our towns, and of our manufactiu'ing production, and the deterioration of the condition of the operative manufacturing class ; but from the population returns. The relative proportions of those who live by agricultural labour, and by other labour, have altered so much from one census to another, that is, within ten years, that instead of two-thirds of the population being en- gaged in agricultural, and one-third in manufacturing or other 278 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. labour, the proportion is now said to be almost reversed, and one- third only is engaged in agriculture, and two-thirds in manufac- tures. Without just pinning our faith to the accuracy of the returns on this head, we have enough to establish the fact in our social economy, that besides the natural increase of our manufac- turing class breeding hands within itself, there is a perpetual drain from agricultural labour into manufacturing labour. It is the object of all incorporations, crafts, apprenticeship-laws and regu- lations, and of all clubs, trades-unions, combinations, and associa- tions of operatives, whether within or without the shelter of the mantle of the law, to dam back and keep out this influx of labour into their labour market, which reduces the value of their labour below the means of a civilized subsistence. The husbandry labourers alone are not engaged in this struggle, because no man presses into their labour-market. If the manufacturing labourers could exclude the influx into their body from the agricultural body, their labour-market would never be so over supplied with labour that its value would fall short of the wages necessary to a civil- ized subsistence. This want of the means to hold a civilized subsistence from the earnings of skill and industry, is the plague- spot which taints the whole body of our labouring population, deteriorates their physical and moral condition, and breeds com- binations, discontent, disturbance, misery, destitution, and vice, even in the bosom of peace, and of a prosperous and improving condition of the higher classes. It is an artificial pressure from without, not the working of any natural law, that produces this wretched social system. What then is the cause of this artificial pressure on manufacturing labour? What is it in agricultural labour that makes all who can fly from it press into the labour- market of the manufacturing class ? The agricultural labourer must somehow be in a still worse condition, and still worse paid than ^ the operative in any other kind of labour. But why is he worse off or worse paid ? His fatigue is as great, his hours of toil as long, his skill and dexterity as important as in any ordinary kind of manu- facturing labour. The shoemaker, tailor, smith, weaver, or factory workman of any kind, has not a trade requiring more intelligence, forethought, and skill ; and is intrusted with no such costly instru- ments to work with, as the ploughman or carter working with a team worth often two or three hundred pounds sterling, or more with its tackle. In no branch of manufacture does the employer NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 279 depend for successful production upon the intelligence, skill, and faithful work of any one single operative, so entirely as the farmer must upon his workmen, upon his ploughman, for instance, or his seedsman. Why is this labour of skill and trust so much underpaid comparatively, that there is a constant pressure from it upon all other branches of industry : and that badly off as other operatives may be, the agricultural operative is still worse off, and seeks employment in the manufacturing labour-market ? To solve this question is a most important problem in the present political and social economy of Great Britain. Whatever other elements enter into the wages of labour, one is indubitable. The employer pays wages, in tlie long run, only for the work that makes him a return. He pays no wages for that which does not repay him, cither in profit or pleasure. Now the employer of the agricultural labourer derives neither pleasure nor profit from that portion of his labourer's work which goes to- wards the production of what he pays to the tithe-owner — the tenth sheaf, the tenth lamb, the tenth part, or its equivalent, of all that is produced on his land— and he certainly does not pay wages for that work of which the produce does not go into his own barn or pocket. If he be a tenant, he calculates in his bar- gain for the land with the landlord what proportion of the pro- duce he has to pay to the tithe-owner, and fixes what rent he will give to the landlord accordingly. In the same way, in cal- culating what rate of wages he will give to the labourer, either by the day, or by the year, or by the job, he calculates what the labour will produce to him, and certainly pays no wages for that labour of which the produce goes into another man's pocket. He does not pay his labourers for one-tenth of their time and labour, — or, in other words pays them one-tenth less wages, — because one- tenth of the produce of their time and labour does not benefit him. The English labourer in husbandry works, in reality, every tenth day for nothing ; or, what is the same, receives every day one tenth less, be his wages high or low, than he would be earning, if the whole, instead of nine-tenths only of his time and labour, went to his employer. He really pays one-tenth of his time and labour, and consequently of his wages, in tithe to the tithe-owner, without any recompense. Nay, he pays more. His employer naturally seeks by the diminution of wages — that being the only outlay on which the farmer can economize at pleasure— some 280 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. indemnification for the tenth of his seed, manure, horse-work, and the use of his implements, time, skill, and personal management, all employed, uselessly as far as regards his own profit, in raising the proportion of his crop that goes to the tithe-owner. Th^ burden also falls more or less upon the wages of the agricultural labourer. These are adjustments of interests which the farmer and labourer do not indeed make upon formal calculation, as in the adjustment of rent between the farmer and landlord, in con- sequence of the tithe, but they make themselves as certainly and unerringly as in bargaining for rent, on the natural principle of wages repaying the employer, or not continuing to be paid. Weighty pamphlets have been published on each side of the question, whether tithe be a real burden paid by the tenant, or by the land-owner. It is in reality paid by neither. The land- owner never acquired the tenth of his land with which the church was endowed. The clerical argument that the church has as clear a title to its one-tenth, as the landed proprietor to the other nine-tenths, is unquestionably good, and the church is, indeed, the older proprietor of the two. The flaw in this argument of the churchmen and lawyers lies here : the original proprietors of the land could only give the church what was their own to give — viz., one-tenth, or any other share of the land, but had no right to give, and could not give, what was not their own — viz., one- tenth of the time, labour, capital, and skill applied to the land, of other parties not then in existence. The spontaneous produce of the tenth of a farm was all that the original owners of it could endow the church with ; and on equitable principle, nothing more should have been valued in commutations of tithe, or drawn in tithe payments. The iniquity of the law has, however, laid the whole burden of the tithe in efiect upon the class of agricultural labourers— for out of them their employer, the farmer, gets his indemnification for his own outlay of capital, time, and skill, em- ployed in raising the tithe— and it is this pressure upon the body of agricultural labourers which keeps their condition so far below that of other labourers, and causes an incessant influx from it into the body of manufacturing labourers. Tithe is in reality the mother of poor-rate. When the English landlords complain of their poor-rates, they forget that the object of it, the poor man, has been paying all his life a much heavier rich-rate for them — NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 281 viz., one-tenth of his time and labour, for the support of a cliiirch establishment to which the landlords and farmers contribute none of their own property; and that he would not be upon the poor- rate, if he had received all his life wages for all that his time and labour produced, instead of working one day in ten for no wages. Now this artificial and evil arrangement in our social system, which reduces to misery and to the vices associated with hope- less misery, both the agricultural and manufacturing classes of labourers, will be gradually and imperceptibly remedied, in the long run, by the aboUtion of the corn laws. This will be the true and beneficial efTect of the measure. It will bring about a natural equilibrium between all kinds of labour, by restoring agricultural labour to its just position of having no peculiar tax, such as that of tithe, thrown upon it alone ; and, by removing this pressure, will relieve the manufacturing labour-raarlvet from that forced influx into it which is the true cause of the low phy- sical and moral condition to which the manufacturing operative class is reduced. It is necessary to show how the abolition of the duty on foreign grain will raise the condition of the agricultural labouring class. Good farming, improved husbandry, increased production from land, are terms bearing a reference always to soils and climates. The worst and poorest farmer in the finer soils and climates even of Britain, as, for instance, in Essex or Kent, will raise more and better grain from a given area of land, than the best and wealthiest farmer can do in the worst soils and climates, such as in Caithness, Sutherland, or the Lewes. Superior management, skill, economy, and capital, may, indeed, in the nearly equal corn soils, and climate of Britain, admit of a competition, especially in the coarser kinds of grain, between extreme parts of the country; but when the British farmer has to make his profits out of land money-rented, taxed, tithed, poor-rated, and burdened directly or indirectly to a great extreme, in competition with farmers on the Continent with better soils and cliniates, and who arc cither owners, selling their surplus produce, or rather bartering it with- out much regard to profit, or else tenants paying proportions of what they raise from the land as rent, and even as taxes, without reference to the market value of what they pay, it is evident that he must change his system of farming, and must farm as they do, with the least outlay of money — must resort to the same system 19 282 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. as that with which he is placed in competition. The farmhig of extensive areas of land with great capital, the manufacture of corn from the soil by the application of hired labour, great skill, intelligence, and expensive management and machinery, as farm- ing is carried on in our most improved agricultural districts, will slowly but inevitably fall to the ground. Husbandry will come round to the Metayer system. The extensive farmer or tenant will become a tacksman subsetting for a portion of the crop, and for labour on the small space he may hold in his own hands, as much as he can of his farm to working husbandmen with work- ing families. This change will raise the condition of the whole class of labourers in husbandry, and they are the most numerous body of the people in every country in a sound state of social arrangement. The working husbandman with his family will be a better tenant than the non-working agriculturist with his skill, hired labour, and capital, because the value of the products will not repay the cost of these, and the capitalist who has to pay and feed labourers, subsist in a suitable way his own family, and replace his own capital with interest and profit, before he has any surplus for rent, can afford to pay no such proportion of the grain or other products of his farm in rent to the land-owner, as the working small tenant who has only to take his own sub- sistence and that of his family, as labourers, out of the products of the land, and divides the surplus with the landlord, as rent and payment of his skill and labour. The condition of the actual labourer on the land will be raised by this change in the agri- cultural system of the country, because tithe will no longer be, as at present, a deduction from the value of his labour, a burden upon his earnings alone. He will be, with respect to tithe, in the position in which the tenant stands now, who pays tithe out of the gross produce of the land as a portion of his rent, and de- ducts it from the amount which would otherwise go to his land- lord. He will also have gradations in his social condition attain- able by his skill and industry. He will be able to rise from trte situation of a single man working for subsistence in a working husbandman's family, to that of a working married husbandman farming land for a rent which the intelligent, well-conducted, working husbandman, however poor, is able to pay, viz., a pro- portion of the crops he raises. There will be no pressure upon the manufacturing class of NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 283 labourers, from the body of agricultural labourers. Both classes will feel equally the relief Nor will the class of landlords suffer, perhaps, by the change. They will draw a much larger propor- tion of the product of the soil as rent — so much larger, that it will probably counterbalance the lower money value of those pro- ducts. If they draw two bolls of grain as corn rent from the same area of land which now pays them only the money price of one boll, the fall of the money price to one-half of the present rate will not injure them. The burden of tithe they cannot justly complain of It will be placed on the proper shoulders — on those who bought the land subject to that biu'den, and who deducted in the price they paid an equivalent consideration for it. The only question — and no doubt it is an all-important one — will be, how far the productiveness of the land of Great Britain may suffer, or be really diminished by this revolution in the agricultu- ral system of the country — this return to a small farm cultivation and rents in kind, which must inevitably follow the abolition of the corn laws. If we listen to the large farmer, the scientific agriculturist, the political economist, good farming must perish with large farms ; the very idea that good farming can exist, un- less on large farms cultivated with great capital, they hold to be absurd. Draining, manuring, economical arrangement, cleaning the land, regular rotations, valuable stock and implements, all belong exclusively to large farms, worked by large capitals, and by hired labour. This reads very well ; but if we raise our eyes from their books to their fields, and coolly compare what we see in the best districts farmed in large farms with what we see in the best districts farmed in small farms, we see, and there is no blinking the fact, better crops on the ground in Flanders, East Friesland, Holstein, in short, on the whole line of the arable land of equal quality of the Continent, from the Sound to Calais, than we see on the line of British coast opposite to this line, and in the same latitudes, from the Firth of Forth all round to Dover. Mi- nute labour on small portions of arable ground give evidently, in equal soils and climate, a superior productiveness, where these small portions belong in property, as in Flanders, Holland, Fries- land, and Ditmarsh in Holstein, to the farmer. It is not pretended by our agricultural writers, that our large farmers even in Ber- wickshire, Roxburghshire, or the Lothians, approach to the gar- den-like cultivation, attention to manures, drainage, and clean 284 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. State of the land, or in productiveness from a small space of soil not originally rich, which distinguish the small farmers of Flan- ders and their system. In the best farmed parish in Scotland or England, more land is wasted in the corners and borders of the fields of large farms, in the roads through them, unnecessarily wide because they are bad, and bad because they are wide, in neglected commons, waste spots, useless belts and clumps of sorry trees, and such unproductive areas, as would maintain the poor of the parish, if they were all laid together and cultivated. But large capital applied to farming is of course only applied to the very best of the soils of a country. It cannot touch the small un- productive spots which require more time and labour to fertilize them than is consistent with a quick return of capital. But although hired time and labour cannot be applied beneficially to such cultivation, the owner's own time and labour may. He is working for no higher returns at first from his land than a bare living. But in the course of generations, fertility and value are produced ; a better living, and even very improved processes of husbandry, are attained. Furrow draining, 'stall feeding all sum- mer, liquid manures, are universal in the husbandry of the small farms of Flanders, Lombardy, Switzerland. Our most improv- ing districts under large farms are but beginning to adopt them. Dairy husbandry even, and the manufacture of the largest cheeses, by the co-operation of many small farmers — the mutual assur- ance of property against fire and hailstorms, by the combina- tion of small farmers — the most scientific and expensive of all agricultural operations in modern times, the manufacture of beet- root sugar, the supply of the European markets with flax and hemp by the husbandry of small farm.ers,— the abundance of legumes, fruits, poultry, in the usual diet even of the lowest classes abroad, and the total want of such variety at the tables even of our middle classes, and this variety and abundance essen- tially connected with the husbandry of small farmers, — all these are features in the system of the occupation of a country by small proprietor-farmers, which must make the inquirer pause before he admits the dogma of our land doctors at home, that large farms worked by hired labour and great capital can alone bring out the greatest productiveness of the soil, and furnish the greatest supply of the necessaries and conveniences of life to the inhabitants of a country. One common error in the usual comparison of the large NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 285 farm and small farm systems — la grande and la petile culture — is to reckon as increased production from the soil the increased quantity of grain or other products sent to market by the large farmer from the same extent of land. A farm, for instance, of two hundred arable acres in the hands of a single farmer, may send to the market town a larger quantity of grain than if the land were occupied by ten or fifteen farmers with their families. But this, if correct to all the extent assumed by agricultural writers, is not increased production from the soil. It is in political economy only a different distribution of perhaps the same, or even a less amount of produce — it affects only the different pro- portions of a population living in the country by agriculture, or living in the towns by manufactiu'ing industry. The quantity of food of all kinds raised from the soil is not necessarily greater, because a greater proportion of it is consumed by the town popu- lations, and a smaller by the country populations. It may even be a question in social economy, whether the well-being of a peo- ple is promoted by that kind of artificial or forced system which sacrifices the comfort, and condition, or numbers of the agricultural labouring class of a country, to the prosperity and increase of its town or manufacturing populations. It may be a question whether the body engaged in agriculture should be deprived of its middle classes, its small farmers, its yeomanry, by the unnatural and forced value given to land by the combined operations of corn laws and of the exclusive political privileges attached to the possession of landed property. The true conclusion in political economy on the relative productiveness of the grande and petite culture, appears to be that the capital and skill of large farmers attain all over a country no augmentation of the products from soil and climate, which is not equally attainable by the labour, skill, and conjoined means of an intelligent body of small farmers. The traveller who looks without prejudice or preconceived opinion at the state of crops on the Continent wherever the small farming and small proprietary system is predominant, at the abundance and variety of food afforded by it to the xv.s\ of the population, and at the way of living, the cheapness, the physical comforts in diet and lodging of the working classes, and the whole social effect of the occupancy of land in small farms, will come to this conclusion — viz., that the largo farm money-rent system, which is almost entirely confined to Jirilain, is a kind of political estab- 286 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. lishment, the growth of artificial arrangements of society, and fostered by the classes it supports; but is in reality not essential to good husbandry, or to the utmost agricultural productiveness of a country, or the utmost well-being of its inhabitarits. This establishment could not subsist but by protective legislation, and must give way when it comes in competition with agricultural production under the more natural small farm system. Food raised from our own soil will become more abundant, and in greater variety, by the increase of the number of its producers. This is the natural law of all production. The increase of the productive power of human labour applied to the inert material, the soil, will increase its products in some kind of proportion to itself. To diminish producers of food is the way our scientific agriculturists propose in their speculations to increase its quan- tity in a country. They attain thus only an apparent increase by a different and perhaps not very beneficial distribution of it. The quantity actually raised on the great scale, as in a whole country, undoubtedly is greatest on the system of small farms under a garden-like cultivation. The densest populations in Europe are those of Flanders and of Lombardy, and they are subsisted in comfort by land cultivated by small farmers. The experience of half a century in France proves that by the occupation of the country under small working farmers, the land is producing one- third more food, and supporting a population one-third greater than it did when it was possessed in large masses. America also proves that the land in the hands of small working farmers admi- nisters all that a people of similar tastes and habits to our own require, and far more abundantly than our system. " There is much food," says Solomon, " in the tillage of the poor :" — there is much sound political economy to be found in Solomon's Pro- verbs. A return to the small farm system, whether it be for good or for evil, must inevitably, although gradually, follow the abolition of the corn laws. Farming in our country must inevitably follow the cheaper modes of production with which it is brought into competition : for it is the law of all production, that cheapness commands both the markets, and the modes of producing. But how will this change affect the great body of money-rented ten- antry, the most respectable of our middle class in the country.^ This requires investigation. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 287 What is rent ? Political economists tell u^ that rent arises from the difference of production between the best lands in the country and the worst that are under cultivation ; that the best only yield a rent when, from the pressure of population, the secondary lands come to be cultivated also, and then the difference of pro- ductiveness between the best and the second qualities of land affords a rent for the first ; that when the secondary lands become also cultivated, and a third still poorer class of land must be occu- pied, then the secondary yields a rent also — and so on until we come to the land altogether good for nothing— in comparison or competition with which the lands of a quality a little, however little, better will yield something as rent. This, if I mistake not, is Mr. Ricardo's theory of rent : but one can scarcely swear to it, for these theories of rent, money, population, pauperism, and all the other metaphysics of political economy, are very hazy sub- jects. You can never catch a steady view of them : and they raise a mist in the mind, through which things appear in very different shapes, and in very different relations to each other, from the reality. This theory of rent, it appears to me, explains only the cause of the differences of rent, but not what rent is itself. Rent itself, reduced to its simplest primary element, is merely the exchange of one kind of property, or rather of the use of one kind of property, for the use of another kind. It is a simple result of barter, and only connected with comparative fertility of land, by its amount or difference compared to rents Qf other land. Rent itself may be defined. It is the whole produce of the land, minus the hire of the time, labour, and skill which raise that pro- duce. In its simplest shape in society, it is the land-owner who pays a rent to the tenant or cultivator, not the tenant to the land- lord. The owner of a cow is the undoubted owner of all the milk his cow produces, but he is not owner of the dairy maid's time, labour, and skill, to make it into cheese and butter. That is another kind of property, and he must hire it, that is to say, must pay a rent to the dairy maid for the use of it. And what does he pay? He barters a proportion of his property, milk — or its representative, money — for a proportion of her property, time, labour, and skill. This is rent in its simplest shape, whether we speak of a cow, or of an acre of land ; and it is paid to the cultivator, not by him ; and all rent is so paid. It is only in the statement of the account between the parties in that small portion 288 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of the cultivated land of the earth which is money-rented, that it appears as if the tenant paid the land-owner. If the dairy maid was sent to market with the cheese and butter, and on her return paid the money it brought to the owner, deducting the value of her own time, labour, skill, and whatever she had furnished for producing the milk and butter, it would appear as if she was pay- ing him a rent for the cow, whereas she is only paying him the balance of his own produce, and she is the party receiving a hire or rent for her property. It is the same simple operation of bar- ter in all rent, as it exists in its natural shape, all over the world. In the South Sea Islands, in all the Continent of Europe, and even in the best farmed money-rented districts of Scotland, rent exists in this simple shape as a payment by the land-owner (or his sub- stitute, the farmer) to the cultivator, and in the original v/ay of giving him the use of a portion of the land itself, in payment for the use of a portion of his time and labour applied to the remain- der. Every farm has some cottar-tenants, under some name or other, receiving a rent in land for their time and labour. This is the first and simplest shape in which rent exists. The next is where, instead of the use of a portion of the land itself for the use of a portion of the cultivator's time and labour, his whole time and labour are hired for the whole land, and he is paid a proportion of its whole produce in corn, wine, wool, or whatever his labour is applied to. The third is where the cultivator, be- sides his time and labour, brings also skill, capital, seed, cattle, farm-stocking, &c., of his own to the cultivation, and is paid as his rent for these, a proportion so much greater of the produce of the land. This is the Metayer system, upon which almost all the arable land of Europe is, and ever has been, cultivated. The colonus partuarius is mentioned in the earliest ages ; and sheep Hocks, dairy produce, vineyards, orchards, and other branches of husbandry, could only be cultivated successfully by giving the cultivator an interest in the results. If we compare this Metayer system with our money-rent system it will be found to have this great advantage over it,, that the land-owner remains in his true position as owner of the land and all it produces, paying a pro- portion of the produce as rent to the cultivator or tenant, for the use of his capital, skill, time, &c., applied to the production, and he, the lanji-owner, shares, consequently, in the risk of bad seasons and crops as well as the farmer — stands his fair and equal chance NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 289 of the loss as well as of the gain which the hand of Providence may dispense. This is altogether just in principle. Our artificial money-rent system is not just. The money-rented tenant paying thirty shillings per acre, perhaps, for iiis farm, in Scotland or Eng- land, is in reality an underwriter standing under the double bur- den of the risk of seasons for his landlord's share of what the land produces, as well as for his own. The competition for land to hire, in consequence of the monopoly of the property of land in large estates, and the difficulty, or impossibility, rather, of em- ploying small capitals with safety in any trade or manufacture in which the large capitals compete with, and ruin the small, forces the class of tenants possessing capital out of their natural position as cultivators paid for the use of their means of cultivation, into the position of the land-owners with respect to the risks and losses which equitably, and in a natural instead of a constrained artifi- cial system of land occupancy, would fall proportionably upon the latter. The money-rented tenant is not only an underwriter insuring his land-owner's interest in the produce of the land against the risk of seasons, but he is also an underwriter securing him against the fluctuation of markets, and a corn merchant paying all the expenses of transporting and marketing what, in any just view of the nature of rent, is not his property, but the land- owner's. It is his bargain, no doubt, and it is his own will to accept the lease of his land under such conditions ; but it is not an equitable bargain, nor a man's free will, when an artificial sys- tem has grown up under a protective legislation which leaves him no alternative but to step into all the risks for the land-owner, or let the land and his trade alone together. It is like the bargain and free will of the passengers in a vessel stranded on the Good- win Sands, treating with the Deal boatmen to bring them to land. The corn laws are the protective legislation under which this artificial relation between the land-owner and the cultivator has grown up. When these arc abolished, the relations between land-owner and cultivator will return to a sound and natural state. The land-owner will pay the cultivator the half or whatever pro- portion may be agreed upon, of the produce of the land, for his capital, skill, and labour in producing it, and run his own risks of seasons and markets. The present tenantry will return to the stale from which they fell — that of a yeomanry cultivating their own lands. Their smallest capitals, of two or three thousand 290 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. pounds sterling, will then find small estates for their investment at the moderate price to which the reduced value of the produce of land will bring landed property. The artificial value given by ' protective legislation for the benefit of the land-owners, and by the exclusive privileges or political advantages attached to their kind of property, being taken away, a thousand pounds' worth of land will be as readily found in the market as a thousand pounds' worth of broad-cloth. Land will take the tendency to be distributed again in small estates of yeomanry and gentry living on and farming their own properties, instead of the tend- ency it has long had, to be concentrated m large masses in the hands of great capitalists. The condition of the money-rented tenantry will be improved. They will be relieved from the unjust position of having the risk of markets and crops thrown entirely on them. Many farmers in the Lothians, and they are not the most short-sighted of men, have of late stipulated for a rent payable partly or wholly in grain ; or in so many bolls per acre, valued at the average or fiar prices of the year. This is but a step, a feeling of the way in the dark. The true interpre- tatiorl of this sign of the times is, that the farmer finds that a man tied to the same money-rent, good seasons and bad, is in a false - position, is, in reality, an underwriter and a corn merchant as much as a farmer. A lucky Wednesday at the market cross, or an extra gill with the drover or corn dealer, may often make up for indifferent farming in the money-returns of the land. This dangerous corn trade they are gradually dropping. The next step will be to pay as rent not so many fixed bolls per acre, whether the season produces the crop or not, but a fixed proportion of the crops actually produced, or of the value they sell for in the market. The tendency clearly is to return to the natural principle of rent, as a payment by the land-owner to the cultivator, the land- owner* standing the risks of seasons and markets for his own interest in the produce. The consequences of this change will be, that the tenantry possessing capital will become yeomen-proprietors farm- ing their own estates. The husbandry class immediately below them, the men of industry, skill, and intelligence, but with little or no capital, will become Metayer tenants, and the working la- bourers in husbandry will become small farmers, holding land for their work. Important improvements in our social condition are linked to NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 291 this inevitable change in the state of landed property. It will, in truth, produce a slow and quiet, but complete revolution in our whole social economy — one much needed, very beneficial in its results to the great mass of the community, and which never can come with less evil to any class, or interest, than through the gradual change brought about in the course of years by a regular act of legislation. It is a fact not to be denied, or blinked at, that the upper classes of the landed social body in Britain are too far removed by vast incomes, and conventional privileges and dis- tinctions, from all community of knowledge, business, interests, or feelings, with the middle or lower classes for whom they legis- late. They are in reality a kind of Brahmin caste in the social body at present, educated aloof, and living aloof from the mass of the nation. The landed proprietor is out of his just position. The man with an estate worth fifty, sixty, or eighty thousand pounds, enjoys far higher political privilege and influence, both in the public and in the local affairs of the country, than the mer- chant or manufacturer with an equal capital invested in concerns of far greater importance to the community, and requiring much higher talent for its management. The exclusive weight in society which belonged to landed property when it was almost the only kind of property, continues vested in a class who now are, from their very position in society, necessarily less experienced and versed in the various interests of a modern community than those for whom they act and legislate. Legislators and legis- latees have become two distinct tribes, inhabiting the same land, without common objects, interests, or knowledge. The Reform Bill failed to amend this evil in our social economy, because the Bill was founded on the false principle of continuing the mono- poly of political influence in one kind of property only, and merely attempting to increase the numbers of those partaking in the monopoly. But the abolition of the corn laws will amend the evil. The social influence of all kinds of property will be equalized. Property will not lose its social and political influ- ence, but landed property will have no more than its just and equal share ; and all proprietors who have a stake in the country by any description of property will have a voice in its affairs, through their representatives, proportionable to that stake. The landed proprietor will have to submit to be measured by the standard applied to other proprietors — viz., the value of his pro- 292 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. perty and talents taken together — not by the feudal standard of the measurement of his land as property of a more noble kind than their money-capitals, machinery, or shipping, and entitled exclusively to legislate for these, and to form their representation in the legislature. The landed booby whose talents extend to crowing like a cock will no longer take his seat as of birthright, on the parliamentary benches with a Brougham, a Macaulay, or an O'Connell. This sound and rational distribution of the legislative power, and the equality of rights and advantages of all proprie- tors in proportion to their stake in the country, whether it be as capitalists, land-owners, or labourers, and whether invested in agriculture, manufacture, or commerce, without privilege of or pressure upon one kind of property, or class of people, more than another, will follow naturally a,nd necessarily, although gradually, in our social economy, from the abolition of all protect- ive duties on corn in favour of landed property. It will be a revolution. It may not be perceptible in the generation in which it is effected ; but on looking back from the higher state of well-being to which it will gradually raise all classes, it will be considered a great and beneficial revolution. But how will it not be perceptible in the present generation of land-holders ? How will it, in the end, be beneficial to them, and to their property ? Before this great alteration in our social economy can be entered upon, it will be necessary, in equity to all interests, to equalize the burdens on, as well as the privileges of, all kinds of property, and all classes of proprietors. The abolition of the corn laws, and of the monopoly of social and political influence attached to land, would be an act of spoliation and injustice, if not accompanied by an equitable adjustment of all the burdens on property. It is true, that land as a species of property, and landed proprietors as a class, enjoy pecuniary advantages by the effect of the duties on foreign grain, cattle, and all other agricultural products, at the expense of the other classes in the community — the moneyed or manufacturing and the labouring classes. It is also true, that landed property enjoys, almost in monopoly, that social and poli- tical influence which in this advanced state of modern society all other kinds of property ought proportionably to partake in. But it is also true, that land and landed proprietors pay to the rest of society, and pay dearly, for these unjust advantages and privileges. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 293 Landed proprietors and their property would be much better off without them. The support of the poor, of the ecclesiastical and educational establishments of the country, of the police, of the whole materiel for the administration of the affairs of society, the public communications of roads, bridges, streets, the paving, light- ing, watching, the prisons and public buildings of every kind, in short, the whole standing expenses of the social economy of the country, are provided for almost exclusively by rates levied froni this kind of property — from land and houses. The fund-holder, the moneyed, the manufacturing, the labouring interests, contribute from'their kinds of property very little in proportion towards these needful expenses of society — the very poor who have expended youth and manhood in their service, and in adding-to their kind of property, are thrown back in old age to be supported by rates on landed property. It is usually argued that the landed proprietor draws back these payments, levied, undeniably, in no just propor- tion from his kind of property, by the high prices which conven- tional arrangements, such as the heavy import duties on foreign grain, cattle, and all other agricultural products, oblige the other classes of society to pay to him for the products of his land — that he thus draws back, in reality, in high rents what he iays out for the public in high rates. But this is not a sound argument in any view. It is a barbarous kind of adjustment to settle one injustice by another — to make the consumers pay more than they should do for their food, in order to recompense the growers for paying more than they should do for the necessary expenses of society. It is not just to oblige by law the owners of this kind of property to advance these necessary expenses of society for all the other classes and kinds of property in it, even supposing such a virtual repayment does take place by the operation of the corn laws— a repayment which it would be difficult to prove, and which certainly does not take place at all with that great mass of landed property which is subject to the heaviest burdens of all for the other kinds of property in the community — the land carrying houses not agri- cultural crops. But admitting that there is virtually a repayment of tliis outlay by the operation of the corn laws, admitting, too, that the exclusive social and political influence and privileges attached to landed property constitute another repayment in a different way, for the heavier burdens upon this kind of properly, it would manifestly be unjust to do away with these equivalents, 294 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. however grievous and unjust they may be towards the rest of the community, without doing away at the same time with the heavy peculiar burdens for which they are the compensation. An equal- ization of all rates, taxes, payments, and burdens required in our social system, whether levied by the state for its general purposes of government, or by counties, towns, or parishes for their local purposes, imposing them equally upon all kinds of property in society, on funded, trading, manufacturing property, as well as landed property, must necessarily, and in common justice, precede, or go hand in hand with the abolition of the cprn laws. With such an equalization of burdens and privileges, the landed pro- prietor would have no right, and probably no cause, to complain. Poor rates, ceunty rates, and all local or general assessments being levied not as now almost altogether from his kind of property, but also from the property of the capitalist, fund-holder, merchant, manufacturer, and tradesman, according to value and amount, he would be relieved from burdens which in reality make land an honorary rather than a beneficial investment, and take it altogether out of the circle of employment of the working capitals of the country. These classes of proprietors would also be relieved by land becoming a kind of property in which a mass of working capital now forced into trade or manufacture, and ruining itself and all around it, would be beneficially absorbed. Over-produc- tion is undeniably the cause of the commercial and manufacturing distress of the country; but what is the cause of the over-produc- tion ? It is manifestly that the great mass of the property of the country, the land, is shut up from any beneficial use or employ- ment of it as property by the ordinary working capitals— all the capitals, it may be said, under 15,000/,, which the owners must lay out reproductively in order to live — and all this class of capitals is forced into trade and manufacture beyond the demand or con- sumpt of the world. This evil — which with the pressure upon manufacturing labour by agricultural labour, arising from the same cause as this pressure of all working capital upon trade and manufactures— is the radical evil to be cured in our social econ- omy ; and is only to be cured by abolishing the corn laws, and all the burdens for which they are the compensation, and placing landed property on the same footing as to burdens and privileges, as property in the funds, or in commerce, or in cotton works, or iron works. Land, as a property in the market competing with NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 295 commercial or manufacturing investment, and neither raised above nor pressed below its just level by conventional causes, would absorb the capitals which now are, from necessity not choice, thrown all upon trading and manufacturing, and by over- production spreading ruin and distress among masters and opera- tives. This forced supply of capital into the one branch of pro- ductive industry — manufacture and trade— will be remedied by a preliminary equalization of all kinds of property, and a subsequent* abolition of the corn laws. Besides tliis adjustment of interests at home, which justice and policy require before the corn laws are abolished, an adjustment abroad is required in common prudence. The greater proportion by far of our supplies of foreign grain comes from the Prussian ports in the Baltic, Hamburgh, Bremen, and Holland, are but entrepots for grain originally shipped from these ports. Odessa, Archangel, St. Petersburg, and America send too inconsiderable quantities to govern our markets and prices, independently of the supplies from Dantzick and other Prussian ports. This ap- pears from Mr. Jacob's report. Now without some adjustment by treaty with Prussia previous to the abolition of the import duty on corn, we would be merely paying our present bread tax into the Prussian exchequer, instead of into our own. That would be the only effect of the abolition of the corn laws. What we took oft' in import duty, they would lay on in export duty. Why should they not ? There is no effective competition from other corn exporting countries sufficient to make the British market for foreign grain independent of the supplies from the Prussian ports, and those connected with Prussia in the German custom- house league. We are paying the price now of the supine policy of our former rulers and ministers in permitting the dismember- ment of Poland, which should have been at this day an inde- pendent country, exchanging its product — corn — for our product — manufactured goods. We are reaping the truit of weak policy. As matters stand, it was a sound measure proposed by the late administration to impose a fixed duty of eight shillings per quar- ter on wheat, and proportional duties on other grain, because if we do not levy it as import duty, Prussia and the other export- ing countries will levy it as export duty, and bread will not be cheaper to the British consumer by the same amount of duty going into the Prussian exchequer, instead of into the British, 296 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. We are told, indeed, that this would be contrary to the interests of the land-holders in Prussian Poland, and the districts which supply Dantzick and the other Baltic ports with grain for expor- tation, and therefore no such export duty would be imposed. But this is the mere ipse dixit of political economists looking at the Continent with English eyes. It is not for the people that government exists in Prussia, but the people for the government. It is the obvious policy of Prussia to keep down the prosperity of the class of land-owners or nobility in her Polish province's. They are the natural heads and leaders of the people, of a people quite ready to revolt ; and to allow them to acquire wealth or independence by a favourable corn trade would be a suicidal measure. Besides the trading and manufacturing interests which Prussia is anxious to raise would be materially promoted by a remission of some taxes which the revenue of the state can only afford by levying an export duty on grain. The whole revenue of Prussia, according to the last statement, viz., for 1838, is, net, 525681,000 thalers. Thalers. The land tax (Grundsteuer) produces ... - 9,847,000 The tax on trades (Gewerbsteuer) , an assessment on the estimated income from trade ---..- 2,054,000 The tax on classes (Classensteuer) , a capitation tax according to the rank or social class of persons not in trade and not subject to the Gewerbsteuer ------ 6,502,000 The indirect taxes on goods imported or exported, on the con- sumpt of home productions, on transport of goods, on shipping, and land carriage by tolls, and the stamp duties - - 20,130,000 The monopoly of salt - - - - - - 5,620,000 The rest of the 52,681,000 thalers of revenue is made up from rents of royal domains, from the post-office, lotteries, royal mines, and manufactures carried on by government or let out to licensed undertakers. Now from this schedule it appears, that land as property pays less in proportion than other kinds "of property to- ■\vards the state. T-he direct tax on land (Grundsteuer), 9,847,000 thalers, exceeds the direct taxes on personal property — the Ge- werbsteuer and Classensteuer together — only by 1,300,000 tha- lers. This is evidently not the proportion between the value of the land in this country, in which as yet there is little capital, and the value of other kinds of property ; and the latter are much more heavily taxed in proportion than with us. It appears also NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 297 that poor rates, town rates, and such local burdens are not im- posed, as in Eiigland, on land or houses alone, but also on all other property — on trades, professions, or other sources of income, by a Gewerbsteuer and Ciassensteuer. These taxes, whether direct or indirect, on trade and industry, are adverse to the object of Prussia to raise a manufacturing industrial interest; and if a few millions of thalers could be raised by imposing an export duty upon the bread corn of our labouring classes, the Prussian government would be quite right in doing so. It would be able to relieve its own subjects of some of the taxes which press most heavily on their industry. The landed interest would have no just cause to complain, being still taxed or rated less heavily than other kinds of property ; and its markets would be no more affected by the Prussian export duty than at present by the British import duty. The price to the consumers — the British public — would be the same. It is evident that such a free trade in corn would not give us cheap bread. A discriminating duty on corn, that is a nominal duty on grain coming to us with only a nominal export duty upon it, and rising even to be prohibitive on grain shipped under heavy export duties at the foreign port, appears to be the nearest approach that can be made, without previous treaties with foreign powers, to a perfectly free trade in corn or timber. Free trade requires a free market to act in, that is, a market with free effective competition. But it appears from Mr. Jacob's report, that there is no effective competition from all the corn exporting countries of the world put together, in the British market wiih Dantzickand the other Baltic ports under the dominion of Prussia. The true free trade in corn is to be sought at home— in the free production of it, in relieving the land and labour employed in producing it from all unequal rates, taxes, and burdens, and from all social or political privileges or preferences that prevent working capitals from being invested in land. The abolition of the import duty on corn is a measure pregnant with unseen results. Many of the expected effects— such as that of reducing the cost of bread— are not exactly within the power of our own legislation, but require the concurrence of other go- vernments to produce them; and a revolution in our whole social economy inevitably attends it. Men in power may fairly be ex- 20 298 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. cused (whether they be tories or liberals) for not making up their minds so suddenly upon this great question, as those who see none of the difficulties or consequences may desire. It is unjust to blame the late or the present administration for hesitation, or delay in legislating on this measure. It is by no means a simple measure involving in its effect the price of the quartern loaf at the baker's shop, and nothing more. CHAPTER Xlir. NOTES ON THE RHINE — SWITZERLAND.— SWISS CHARACTER.— CHURCH OF GENEVA.— SWISS SCENERY. The Rhine is, no doubt, an historical river; but the political economist reads history in its stream difierently from the scholar, or the antiquarian. This river has been flowing these two thou- sand years through the centre of European civilization — yet how little industry or traffic upon its waters ! not one river barge in ten miles of river ! Is not this the effect of faulty social economy, of bad government, of restricted freedom among the twenty or thirty millions of people dwelling in communication with this great water-way? Is it not a bitter historical satire on the feudal in- stitutions which have so long reigned on either side of this river? In America, rivers not half a century old to any human know- ledge are teeming with floating craft exchanging industry for industry between rising cities, and communities of free self-go- verning men. This ancient river Rhine flows stately and silently through vast populations of feudally governed countries, and like one of its own dignified old barons, caring little for industry, com- merce, and civilization, but sweeping in lonely grandeur between robber castles of former days, modern fortifications, decaying towns, military and custom-house sentinels and functionaries, and beneath vine-dotted hills, around which the labouring man toils, and climbs, and lives as he did a thousand years ago, with- out improvement, or advance of any importance in his social con- dition. Is this the Rhine, the ancient Rhine, the Rhine that boasts of commerce, literature, science, law, government, reli- gion, having all sprung up in modern times upon its banks — this river, with half a dozen steamers carrying idle lady and gentlemen passengers up and down to view the scenery, and a solitary barge here and there creeping along its sides? Truly the American rivers, under the dcmocratical American govern- 300 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. merits and social system, have shot ahead, in half a century, of this European river under the aristocratical European govern- ments and social system, although the European has had the start of the American streams by fifteen hundred or two thousand years. When Prince Metternich sits in his window-seat in his castle of Johannisberg, reading in some book of travels about the Ohio, or Mississippi, or Hudson, all teeming with the activity and civilizing industry of free, unrestricted men, what may be his thoughts vv^hen he lifts his eyes from the book, and looks down upon the Rhine ? It is here that the American traveller may be allowed to prose, at long, and at large, upon his favourite topic — the superiority of American institutions and government. He may begin his glorifications at Cologne, and end them at Basle, without interruption. The two small populations at the two extremities of the Rhine, far apart from and unconnected with each other, and in all phy- sical circumstances of country, soil, climate, means of subsistence, and objects of industry, as distinct and different as two groups of human beings well can be, are yet morally and nationally very like to each other. The same spirit in the'ir social economy, and a similar struggle to attain and preserve independence, and free political arrangements in their countries, have produced a striking similarity of character in the two populations. The Swjss are the Dutchmen of the mountains. They are the same cold, unimaginative, money-seeking, yet vigorous, determined, ener- getic people as the Dutch of the mouths of the Rhine. In private household life the same order and cleanliness, attention to small things, plodding, persevering industry, and addiction to gain, pre- dominate in the character of both, and as citizens, the same rever- ence for law, and common sense, the same zeal for public good, the same intense love of country, and, hidden under a phlegmatic exterior, the same capability of great energy and sacrifices for it. The Swiss, being less wealthy, but far more generally above want and pauperism than the Dutch, retain, perhaps, more of the virtues connected with patriotism ; and their two-and-twenty dis- tinct governments, all more or less liberal in form, and the neces- sity of watchfulness and energy in their united general govern- ment, keep alive in every man a spirit of devotedness to his country, which the traveller looks for in vain among the pea- santry of the monarchical states which allow no free action or NOTES OF A TRAVELLER, 301 participation in public interests to their subjects. The Swiss cantons bicker and quarrel among themselves as the American United States do ; but, like the dogs in a snow-traineau, they get on together not the less rapidly for their barking and biting — and a common object in view silences all differences. Some political observers conceive that this republican bundle of two-and-twcnty distinct states, different in laws, religion, and language, and placed between three monarchies jealous of the prosperity, and especially of the example of such free institutions, has but a very precarious lease of existence, in its present independent federal constitution. This is a mistaken view. The best and surest defence of a coun- try consists in its power of aggression. Switzerland has emi- nently this aggressive power — could throw a ball of fire from the Alps into the plains of Italy, which would kindle a flame that Austria or Sardinia could not quench; and with the south of France in no cordial subjection to the reigning branch of the Bourbon family, has a powerful moral aggressive force on that side also. Her population, too, is ^ one of military habits, united in sentiment for the independence of the country, accustomed to the use of arms, and the country strong in its ruggedness for its local defence by the inhabitants. Switzerland is in reality a heavier power in the European balance than some of the little kingdoms, such as Wurtemburg, Hanover, Denmark, Sweden, which class themselves among the secondary powers, and look upon the Swiss confederated states as of very inferior importance to their own. The Swiss appear to be a people very destitute of imagination, and its influences — remarkably blind to the glorious scenery in which they live. Rousseau, the only imaginative writer Switzer- land has ever produced, observes, " that the people and their coun- try do not seem made for each other." There is much truth in the observation. Men of all nations excepting of the Swiss nation itself, and of almost every station in life, are met with in Switzer- land wandering from scene to scene, pilgrims paying homage at every lake and mountain, to the magnificence of the scenery. The Swiss himself is apparently without any feeling of this kind. If it be possible to build out a fine view, or to put down a house exactly where one with any eye or feeling for the beauty of situa- tion or scenery would not place it, there the traveller may reckon upon finding the mansion and olliccs of the wealthy class of the 302 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Swiss, who could afford to indulge a taste, if they had it, for the fine scenery of their land. The Swiss speculators in hotels, and lodging houses for strangers, who are a numerous and respectable class, are altogether puzzled at the unaccountable preferences the strangers give to cottages on the lake side, to single houses, or inns in the little villages, instead of their superb chateaus in the middle of a market town, or built out from every prospect by magnificent office houses. The Swiss, in truth, are altogether utilitarian. Material interests are at the top, bottom, and middle of their minds. They have not a spark of fancy in their moral composition, no de- lusion of themselves, or others. Yet, without imagination, they have great energy, great patriotism, and a strong sense of public duty; and, with their military habits, these are more to be de- pended upon for the stubborn defence of their country and its in- stitutions, than a temporary volatile enthusiasm. This peculiar spirit and character may be ascribed to the peculiar occupation of a great portion of the Swiss people. They have for ages been the hirelings of Europe, either in public or private service, as soldiers, or as domestic servants. Pay has for ages been the only influ- ence, in general and constant operation on the Swiss mind in every class of society, and has weakened the efficiency of any higher influences and feelings in aflairs, than self-interest. Point cP ar- gent, point de Suisse, has extended from their military to all their social relations. A great proportion of the young men of Switzer- land have small farms, or houses with portions of land, and rights to grazing in the Alps of their native parishes, to succeed to upon the death of their parents ; but until that event in their social posi- tion, they are supernumeraries at home, their labour not being necessary for cultivating the paternal acres, and their subsistence more, perhaps, than the land can afford. They have no colonies to migrate to, no labour to turn to, except labour of skill which all cannot learn, or live by, and no considerable manufacturing em- ployment, except in two or three cantons, to absorb their numbers, and they enlist, therefore, readily for a few years in Swiss regi- ments in foreign service. France, after the restoration of the Bourbons, had, if I mistake not, about 17,000 men of Swiss regi- ments ; and the disgust of the French nation at the prefereiKie shown to these mercenaries was a main cause of the expulsion of Charles X. Naples has at present four regiments of these mer- cenaries, Rome as many: and it is reckoned that from 8,000 to NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 303 10,000 Swiss are in foreign service at present, embodied generally in Swiss regiments distinct from the native troops of the country. They are the condottieri of the middle ages, serving for their pay, and without any other principle, or attachment real or assumed, or any pretext of higher motive for their service. In other ser- vices, the rudest soldier, the most arrant scamp, the vagabond, the deserter from other regiments, lays the flattering unction to his soul, that destiny, folly, hard necessity, wildness of youth, love of distinction, of country, of honour, something, in short, connected, with principle or fate, has led him into the military service. But these Swiss have no principle, real or imaginary, but pay. They engage generally for terms of four or six years,and receive a bounty of one Napoleon for each year they engage for. This bounty is not paid to them in full upon enlistment, but a portion of it is placed to their credit in their llvret, or book, which every private has in foreign services, and is paid to them at the expiry of their engagements, to enable them to return home from the port of Ge- noa, to which those serving in Italy are sent free of expense if they do not choose to re-engage for a new term of years. They receive much higher pay than the native troops. A subaltern in a Swiss regiment in the Neapolitan service told me his pay is better than that of a captain in a Neapolitan regiment. The men receive four gran and bread, and the elite, or old soldiers who have re- enlisted, five gran per day, and their ration of eight ounces of meat costs but three gran. They are consequently well off' as soldiers, are always in good quarters, and under their own Swiss officers, and both at Naples and Rome are undoubtedly fine, well appointed troops. Scotland formerly furnished the same kind of condottieri to Holland, Sweden, and France, but the advance of industry and manufacVflre at home, the colonization of America, and the de- mand of England for labour from the poorer country, extinguished this kind of military service; nor was it in Scotland so devoid of all connection with principle, so entirely mercenary, as the Swiss enlistments of the present day. The Scotch peasant enlisted un- der his clansman, or the son of his landlord, who from attachment to the Stuart cause, or difference of religion, or from national pre- judice, preferred foreign service to the Jkiiish, even with inferior pay. The recruiting also for foreign service was unacknowledged and private. But the Swiss government sanctions (his demoral- izing system, allows the recruiting publicly, and with the same 304 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. protection and regulation as for a national army ; and sells, for the benefit of a few aristocratic families, principally of Bern, who officer these mercenaries, the military services of her young men to support the most arbitrary governments in Europe. The Pro- testant republic of Bern furnishes one regiment entirely for the service of the kingof Naples, and even in the Pope's body guards there are Protestants from Bern and other Protestant cantons. No government can set principle at defiance with impunity. These men return to their little spots of land, devoid of religious habits, or feelings, or attachment to any religious faith. This service keeps up through the whole population of Switzerland, principles and conduct adverse to religious character. The men who thus enlist to pass their youth in the most vicious and bigoted cities in Europe — Naples, and Rome — are not the refuse of their country, but the sons of respectable peasants, who are to return to their little heritages, and marry, and settle as fathers of families. If the Swiss character be mercenary, and devoid of feeling for higher influences or motives than pay, the taint comes from this source. Yet it is surprising, and suggestive of very important reflections, how an enlightened self-interest keenly appreciating its own pri- vate advantage in the public good, keeps a people honest, sober, industrious, highly patriotic, and in the active and regular dis- charge of all private and public duties as men and citizens, with- out the higher influences of religion. But so it is. The Swiss people present to the political philosopher the unexpected and most remarkable social phenomenon of a people eminently moral in conduct, yet eminently irreligious ; at the head of the moral state in Europe, not merely for absence of numerous or great crimes, or of disregard of right, but for ready obedience to law, for honesty, fidelity to their engagements, for fair de§.ling, so- briety, industry, orderly conduct, for good government, useful public institutions, general well-being, and comfort — yet at the bottom of the scale for religious feelings, observances, or know- ledge, especially in the Protestant cantons, in which prosperity, well-being, and morality seem to be, as compared to the Catholic cantons, in an inverse ratio to the influence of religion on the people. Plow is this discordance between their religious and their moial and material state to be reconciled ? It is so obvious, that every traveller in Switzerland is struck with the great con- trast in the well-being and material condition of the Protestant NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 305 and Catholic populations, and equally so with the difference in the influence of religion over each. Tins influence is at its mini- mum in Protestant, and at its maximum nearly in Catholic Switz- erland ; and the prosperity and social well-being of the people are exactly the reverse. How is this? Is it that the Swiss peo- ple, at home and abroad, see the utility of moral conduct, the utility of temperance, fidelity, self-restraint, honesty, obedience to law, patriotism, and defence of their country : and of their independent political establishments, see the advantages, the pay, in short, of moral conduct and patriotism, in every shape and way, and are, therefore, eminently moral and patriotic, yet nof from religious principles or influences, but altogether from an enlightened self-interest? It is a very remarkable social state, similar, perhaps, to that of the ancient Romans, in which moral- ity and social virtue were also sustained without the aid of reli- gious influences. I happened to be at Geneva one Sunday morning as the bells were tolling to church. The very sounds which once called the powerful minds of a Calvin, a Knox, a Zwingli, to religious exer- cise and meditation, were now summoning the descendants of their cotemporaries to the same house of prayer. There are few Scotchmen whose hearts would not respond to such a call. I hastened to the ancient cathedral, the church of Saint Peter, to see the pulpit from which Calvin had preached, to sit possibly in the very seat from which John Knox has listened, to hear the pure doctrines of Christianity from the preachers who now stand where once the great champions of the Reformation stood 5 to mark, too, the order^ and observances of the Calvinistic service here in its native church ; to revive, too, in my mind, Scotland and the picturesque Sabbath days of Scotland in a foreign land. But where is the stream of citizens' families in the street, so re- markable a feature in every Scotch town when the bells are toll- ing to church, family after family, all so decent and respectable in their Sunday clothes, the fathers and mothers leading the younger children, and all walking silently churchwards ? and where the quiet, the repose, the stillness of the Sabbath morning, so remark- able in every Scotch town and house? Geneva, the seat and centre of Calvinism, the fountain-head from which the pure and living waters of our Scottish Zion flow, the earthly source, the pattern, the Rome of our Presbyterian doctrine and practice, has 306 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. fallen lower from her own original doctrine and practice than ever Rome fell, Rome has still superstition ; Geneva has not even that semblance of religion. In the head church of the ori- ginal seat of Calvinism, in a city of five-and-tvventy thousand souls, at the only service on the Sabbath day — there being no evening service — I sat down in a congregation of about two hundred females, and three-and-twenty males, mostly elderly men of a former generation, with scarcely a youth, or boy, or working ma^n among them. A meager liturgy, or printed form of prayer, a sermon, which, as far as religion was concerned, might have figured the evening before at a meeting of some geological society, as an "ingenuous essay" on the Mosaic chronology, a couple of psalm tunes on the organ, and a waltz to go out with, were the church service. In the afternoon the only service in towns or in the country is reading a chapter of the Bible to the children, and hearing them gabble over the Catechism in a way which shows they have not a glimpse of the meaning. A pleasure tour in the steam-boats, which are regularly advertised for a Sunday prome- nade round the lake, a picknick dinner in the country, and over- flowing congregations in the evening at the theatre, the equestrian circus, the concert saloons, ball rooms, and coffee houses, are all that distinguish Sunday from Monday in that city in which, three centuries before, Calvin moved the senate and the people to com- mit to the flames his own early friend Servetus, the discoverer of the circulation of the blood, and one of the first philosophers of that age, for presuming to differ in opinion and strength of argu- ment from his own religious dogma. This is action and re-action in religious spirit with a vengeance. In the village churches along the Protestant side of the Lake of Geneva — spots upon this earth specially intended, the traveller would say, to elevate the mind of man to his Creator by the glories of the surrounding scenery — the rattling of the billiard balls, the rumbling of the skittle trough, the shout, the laugh, the distant shots of the rifle- gun clubs, are heard above the psalm, the sermon, and the barren forms of state prescribed prayer, during the one brief service on Sundays, delivered to very scanty congregations, in fact, to a few females and a dozen or two old men, in very populous parishes supplied with able and zealous ministers. What may be the causes of this remarkable difference in the working of Calvinism in Switzerland and Scotland? The NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 307 churches of Geneva and Scotland set out together on their Chris- tian pilgrimage, in the days of Calvin and Knox, with the same profession of faith, the same doctrines, and the same forms in congregational worship. We, the vulgar of the kirk of Scotland, have at least always been taught to consider the church of Geneva as the mother-church of our Presbyterian faith, and established church usages— the njodel by which both our doctrines and prac- tices were framed and adjusted into their present shape. How widely the two have wandered from each other ! The member of the Scotch kirk comes out of the church of Geneva inquiring if it be a Calvinistic or Lutheran service he has been attending — the liturgy, or printed prescribed form of prayer, is there, the organ is there, and the sermon is a neat little moral essay that might do for either, or for any congregation. Scotland is at this day the most religious Protestant country in Europe ; and in no country in Europe, Protestant or Catholic, is the church attendance worse, the regard for the ordinary observances of religious worship less, the religious indifference — not entitled to be called infidelity, not so respectable as infidelity, because not arising from any reason- ing or thinking, wrong or right, about religion — greater than in Protestant Switzerland, in the district of our Calvinistic mother- church in and about Geneva. Whence is this remarkable differ- ence ? The starting point of the human mind was the same in both countries, at the same period, and under the same leaders, Calvin and Knox ; and the present divergence of the human mind in its religious direction in Switzerland and Scotland is as striking as was the original coincidence. The only obvious cause of this divergence is, that the state and church in Switzerland have from the first engrafted on Calvinism a bastard Lutheranism. It is characteristic of Calvinism as re- ceived in Scotland, that it is the only branch of Christianity which flourishes independently of all church establishments, state assist- ance, or government arrangements, and requires no union of church and state. Spiritual, and unconnected with forms, it is injured by government interference and regulation. In Scotland itself religion is more nourishing in the Secession than in the Established Church, simply because the former is a voluntary, the latter a state church. The doctrine and church observances and education of the ministers are the same in both. The state has— and Calvin himself in conjunction with the state, to prevent 308 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. probably the excitement of the public mind by the extemporary prayers of fanatic preachers adapting their effusions to the pass- ing feelings of their congregations, or to keep them exclusively Calvinists, and out of the hearing, as far as possible, of other impressions — prescribed a set form of printed prayer, a liturgy, in settling the church discipline and usages of the church of Geneva. The Scotch Calvinistic church, about sixty years after the Reform- ation, repudiated such interference, even from the church power, with individual freedom of thought and expression in prayer, as being contrary to the genuine spirit of Calvinism. The Scotch were more Calvinistic than Calvin himself. Time has proved that the Scotch kirk was right. In Switzerland, in attempting to guard the people by prescribed forms against the diseases of fanaticism and erroneous doctrine, the state and Calvinistic church have inoculated the people with the worse disease of indifference. It is the same experiment for the same object, and with the same results, which Prussia is trying in our times with the Protestant religion in Germany — to make it a subservient machine to state or church policy, to hold the minds of men enslaved to a civil or clerical' system of government by religious ties. The Lutheran and Church of England clergy, it may be said, are also confined to prescribed printed forms of prayer — true ; but in the old Lutheran and Anglican churches these forms of ceremonial prayer — selected, translated, and improved from the more ancient popish service — are, as in the Roman Catholic church, the sum and substance of the religious service. The sermon is only an adjunct of secondary importance in the service of the day. But in the Calvinistic church, as we conceive of it in Scotland, the substance of the service is in the sermon ; and the best sermon loses half its effect, the best preacher half his power, if applicable, appropriate prayer, composed under the same impressions and feelings as the discourse, be superseded by set forms issued by the state, and which in Switzerland, not hav- ing the venerated antiquity, the admirable eloquence, and the application to every condition and every mind, of the fine ancient liturgy of the English church, not being interwoven with the very existence of the church, as in the old Lutheranisra, are listened to rather as proclamations to heaven of the church and state, than as prayers. The influence of the preacher is impaired. He stands in the pulpit in a false position as a free Calvinistic minister, with NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 309 this dead weight of a leaden, meager Hturgy round his neck. He is not in the position of the Church of England or old Lutheran clergyman, who in the delivery of his prescribed liturgy is per- forming the most important part of his pastoral duty, and one consistent, not discordant, with the principle and spirit of his partly ceremonial church, in which the pastor's individual labour as a preacher is but secondary and subsidiary. This false position in their own pulpits necessarily lowers the moral and religious tone and energy of the clerical character in the Swiss clergy. Their liturgy, too, is in itself a meager, nnimpressive composition. They attempt to remedy their false position in the pulpit, by introducing occasional prayer in the middle and as part of the sermon itself. This smuggled prayer is, in itself, of very impressive effect in pulpit oratory. It is rarely used by our Scotch preachers; but here it is so common, that the peasants, who sit with their hats on during the sermon, are on the watch when the preacher is sliding, from addressing them, into prayer, to take off" their hats until he returns to the thread of his discourse. This practice shows, I conceive, that ministers feel themselves in a false and inconsistent position, in being only allowed to exercise half their duty — that of addressing their congregations — not the more important half — that of addressing their Creator in prayer — according to their own feelings, impressions, and powers. This position also gives the pastor too much the character with the people of a functionary of the state and church, who has his routine duty to do, and is paid for doing it like other functionaries. The routine duty of reading their short meager liturgy is too brief to be a regular impressive church service, and yet it prevents any other mode of prayer. The usual form of church duty in the Calvinistic parishes is this: The minister first reads a short prayer, the people standing; tlieii gives out two verses of a psalm, which are well performed, there being an organ generally even in country churches, and all the psalm-books having the notes of the music printed with the psalms— and the common people understand music enough to use the notes. The text is read while the people are still standing, and they then sit down, and old men and peasants generally put on their hats while the minister delivers his sermon. The sermons are always read from papers ; but some of the young clergy use the papers very little, and seem to have them merely as notes to refresh the memory. The printed forms of prayer are then read. 310 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. They have at least the mqrit of being very short. None of the congregation have them in their hands. They are not used hke the EngUsh prayer-book, by the congregation as well as by the minister, but only by the minister. A couple of verses of a psalm concludes the service, which, with a brisk tune on the organ — the fashionable opera air of the day — to go out of church with, occupies about three-quarters of an hour. This is all the church service on Sundays. The afternoon service is a meeting of the children, who after a prayer (a printed form) and a psalm without the organ, are examined in the Catechism. Baptisms, churchings, and such duties, are performed ; but there is no sermon and no congregation, either in town or country in the afternoon, unless it be on some special occasion, such as a charity sermon. This supine state of the Protestant church in Switzerland is owing greatly to the effects, indirect and direct, of the last war. The indirect effects were those on the minds of the people bred up in the very centre of military movement, amidst excitement, bustle, and employments which left little time or inclination for any religious education. The grown generation, and perhaps their progeny, show that little value had been put upon religious observances, habits or instruction, in the days of their youth. The direct effects were, that during the war, youth of talent and good education found in other professions a more congenial and better recompensed career than in the church. It was aban- doned to those who had no ambition or talent for any other pro- fession 5 and the standard both of learning and abilities in the clerical profession fell during the war below the standard of other professions. It is not to be denied that something of the same kind took place in Scotland, also, during the last war. The church did not obtain her fair proportion of the high-minded, high-gifted, and high-educated youth of the country, to fill her ranks; and she is now under the paroxysm of a strong re-action, is filled with ambition, and an active spirit too great for the narrow circle of her social influence in a country of widely spread dissent, of habits of independent thinking, and of general education and intellectual culture not inferior to the standard of the clergy them- selves. The agitation of late in the Scotch church is perhaps owing to this false position of the clergy with the people. The moral influence of great superiority of education, and of acquire- ments unattainable by the multitude, is wanting to the Scotch NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 311 churchman from the low standard of education which country presbyteries required in Ucensing preachers. As a sacred class of men, the Calvinist admits no superiority or influence to the licensed or ordained clerical preacher, more than to any lay or other preacher, either in the theory or practice of reUgion, It is to the gifts, talents, intellectual acquirements, not to the empty ordination ceremony, or clerical function, that social influence is given. But the established clergy in Scotland have no superiority in these over the clergy of the Secession, and neither have any over the youth of the middle classes who study for the lower branches of the legal or medical professions, or for filling up their leisure hours in commercial, manufacturing, or other ordinary vocations of life. They are not fenced in, as in the English church, by expensive forms of education dividing the clerical class from other men however well educated ; nor by essential forms, as in the same ceremonial church of England, which none but the regularly ordained clergyman can legally, or, in public opinion, perform in a religious sense ; nor, as in England, by the ignorance of the rest of society, from whose want of education the clergyman, however poorly educated himself, derives a certain social influence. They have in Scotland neither more knowledge, nor of a higher kind, than the people they have to instruct. They have no status in public opinion simply from being ordained, and unfortunately are struggling for influence and power as a clerical body co-ordinate with the civil power in the state, without laying the foundation — superiority of attainments and education— on which alone clerical power or social influence can rest in an edu- cated country. The young men of the Swiss church stand higher, compared to the people, in education, than, those of the Scotch. They are elected by the people from a lect sent from government. The leet is made up by the consistory from the roll of licensed candidates, according to their standing or seniority. The candidates are first suflragans or assistants to parish ministers. They are all paid by the state, and are, undoubtedly, in the present generation, well- educated, pious men. A reaction has taken place in the Swiss as in the Scotch church, and in both the young clergy, not the old, lead the movement. But in Switzerland the movement seems confined to a very small circle, chiefly of females, around the pas- tor. The men appear not to enter into that circle. The taint in 312 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the flock is too deeply seated in the constitution of the Swiss church, and in the social state of the people, to be cured by their clergy in' one generation. The late insurrection in the canton of Zurich, in 1839, in which the peasantry, headed by some of the clergy, overturned, not without bloodshed, the local government, for having appointed £)r. Strauss to the chair of theology, may appear altogether at variance with this low estimate of the Swiss religious character. , I Was in Switzerland at the time ; and from all I could learn, I considered it political, not religious, and confirming the opinion of the low religious state of the country. Dr. David Frederic Strauss pubhshed, in 1835, his Life of Jesus — Das Leben Jesu* — avowedly with the object of overturning all belief in those events of or connected with our Saviour's history, which cannot be reconciled to, or explained by, the ordinary course of natural operation. He brings to this attack upon Christianity and the miracles not the wit, ingenuity, or philosophy of a Voltaire, a Hume, or a Gibbon, but a mass of learning and biblical criticism, which, his admirers say, the church is unable to match. The weight of profound scholarship and philosophical criticism is, it seems, all on the side of infidelity ; and the most able and leanied of the German theologians— no superficial scholars in biblical lore — have, it appears, been worsted in the opinion of the learned by this Goliath. In the wantonness of power the authorities of * Dr. Strauss's Leben Jesu was admitted into Prussia by the college of censorship, in consequence of a minute of Professor Neander, one of the censors, and one of the most eminent divines in Prussia, which stated, "that if the - interpretation of the original history of Christianity laid down in Dr. Strauss's work were to be generally received, Christianity, as at present un- derstood, would certainly be at an end. The work, however, is written with such philosophical earnestness and science, that a prohibition of it by the state would be unsuitable, because it can only be overcome in the fields of learning and philosophic science; and it is moreover, a work which can scarcely penetrate beyond the circle of the learned. Such a character of Dr. Strauss's work, from a scholar and divine of such eminence in biblical litera- ture, places it beyond the contempt of ordinary theologians, who may affect to sneer at what they cannot even read. Why do not our young clergy with- draw from their political economy, and their non-intrusion or intrusion politics, and refute the errors in philosophical criticism and in biblical learning of his antagonist, who, at the age of five-and-twenty, or thirty, has thrown down the gauntlet to the divines of Europe 1 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 313 Zurich chose to call Dr. Strauss to tho vacant theological chair in their university— to appoint a learned man who denies and con- troverts the very facts and foundations of all Christianity, to teach theology to those who are to instruct the people in the Christian faith. This attempt on the part of a government shows suffi- ciently the state of religion in the country. It was defeated, not from any new-born religious zeal of the people, but because the misgovernment and perversion of the powers entrusted by the community to their rulers, in this absurd appointment, were apparent ; and the ministers found no want of followers, from the roused common sense of the people, even among those who perhaps bad not crossed the church door for six months, to go to Zurich and displace magistrates who had abused their delegated powers so obviously. So little of religious zeal entered into this movement, that Dr. Strauss, as he had received the appointment, was allowed the retiring pension of a professor. The people ap- pointed new members without changing the forms of their govern- ment, retired to their mountains and valleys, and this revival was at an end. The present commotions in Argau, also, appear to be entirely a struggle between Protestants and Catholics for property and political power. The snowy peak, the waterfall, the glacier, are but the won- ders of Switzerland; her beauty is in her lakes — the blue eyes of this Alpine land. The most beautiful passage of scenery in Switzerland is, to my mind, the upper end of the Lake of Geneva, from Vevay, or from Lauzanne to Villeneuf. Scenery more sublime may be found on the lakes of Lucerne, Zug, IJrientz ; but in the pure, unmixed sublime of natural scenery, there is a gloom, essential perhaps to it, which cannot lon^ be sustained without a weariness of mind. Here the gay expanse of wafer is enlivening ; and the water here is in due proportion to the landward part of the scenery — not too little, nor too much, for the mountains. The climate, too, under the shelter of the high land, the vegetations of various climes upon the hill-side before the eye at once, have a charm for the mind. The margin of the lake is carved out, and built up into terrace above terrace of vineyards and Indian corn plots ; behind this narrow belt, grain crops, orchards, grass fields, and chestnut-trees have their zone ; higlier still upon the hill-side, pasture grass and forest-trees oc- cupy the ground; above rises a dense mass of pine forest, broken 21 314 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. by peaks of bare rock shooting up, weather-worn and white, through this dark green mantle ; and last of all, the eternal snow piled high up against the deep blue sky— and all this glory of nature, this varied majesty of mountain-land, within one eye- glance ! It is not surprising that this water of Geneva has seen upon its banks the most powerful minds of each succeeding generation. Calvin, Knox, Voltaire, Gibbon, Rousseau, Madame de Stael, Lord Byron, John Kemble, have, with all their essential diversities and degrees of intellectual powers, been united here in one common feeling of the magnificence of the scenery around it. This land of alp and lake is indeed a mountain- temple reared for the human mind on the dull unvaried plains of Europe, to which men of every country resort from an irre- sistible impulse to feel intensely, at least once in their lives, the majesty of nature. The purest of intellectual enjoyments that the material world can give is being alone in the midst of this scenery. CHAPTER XIV. NOTES ON SWITZERLAND.— MONTREUX.— CHECKS ON OVER-POPULA- TION—SWISS DAIRY.— AGRICULTURAL.— SOCIAL CONDITION. It is of iFie people of the countries I visit, not of the scenery, — of poUtical and social economy, not of rocks and wilds, forests and floods, that I would speak, even in Switzerland. During two successive summers of late years, I fixed myself in the parish of Montreux, on the side of the Lake of Geneva, not far from the castle of Chilon. The locality is celebrated in every note-book, delineated in every sketch-book of every sentimental tourist from the days of our grandmothers — for before Byron sung, and when Chilon was nothing more than it now is — an old French-like chateau, very suitable for its present use— a military magazine — the locality was the region of sentimentality and hot-house feel- ing ; for here Rousseau had placed his Julie, and St. Preux ; and Clarens, and Meillarie, and all that is real or unreal in the Heloise — are here or hereabout. But the locality has its own claims on the political economist as well as on the romantic tourist. We, the inhabitants of the parish of Montreux, are of unspeakable in- terest in the speculations of the enlightened prosers on political economy in the winter evening re-unions of Geneva and Lausanne. They demonstrate, from our sage example, to a simpering circle of wives and daughters-in-law, the wisdom, duty, possibility, and utility of keeping the numbers of a community, be it a nation, parish, or family, in due Malthusian ratio to the means of living. We of this parish have the honour of being cited in print to all Europe— besides the cities of Geneva and Lausanne— as an edi- fying example of sagesse on the great scale, as a perfect and re- markable instance of the application of moral restraint by a whole population upon their own over-multiplication. It appears from the register of this our parish of Montreux that the proportion of births to the population is 1 to 4G, while in the rest of Switzerland 316 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. it is reckoned 1 to 27 or 28 inhabitants. In England ihe propor- tion is 1 in 28 ; in France, 1 in 32 or 33 ; in Prussia, 1 in 25 ; in Bohemia, 1 in 24 ; in the old Venetian states, 1 in 22 ; in Russia, 1 in 18 or 19. This remarkably small proportion of births to the population in our parish is ascribed to the late period of life to which the peasants put off their marriages. Sir Francis d'lvernois published in 1837 a pamphlet" Enquete sur les Causes patentes ou occultes de la faible Proportion des Naissances a Montreux," in which, with some ill-supported con- clusions, he makes many valuable observations. The strength of nations, their wealth as regards population, depends, he justly observes, not on the number of births, but of persons born who attain a useful age. The true and valuable increase of the popu- lation of a country depends, in short, upon the principle of making as many men as possible out of as few children as possible. If one-half of the children born die before they attain a useful age, the rearing them has been a national loss, not a national gain. The population of eifective people in Russia, with 1 birth to every 18 or 19 persons, may not be advancing so rapidly as that of France with 1 birth only to 33 persons. The observation is applicable to the supposed rapid increase of the population of the United States ; more die before reaching the age of utility, and the rearing them is a loss, in reality, to the country by the time, labour, and expense of their food and rearing, if they die before that age. In. this parish, in which 1 birth is the average to 46 people, 1 death is the mortality to 75. In Switzerland, in general, 1 in 42 is reckoned the average mortality. In the canton Thur- govia, in eighteen years before 1824, the births were 1 in 27, and the deaths 1 in 31 ; so that in reality its population was increasing in a slower ratio than that of this parish with its births 1 in 46, and its deaths 1 in 75. There, one-half of the infants die before their fifth year. Here, nineteen out of twenty reach the first year of life, and very nearly four-fifths of those whom the present venerable minister has baptized have lived to receive the sacra- ment from his hands. This diminished mortality Sir Francis as- cribes to the postponement of the age of marriage, by which a healthier child is produced than in precocious marriages, and the child is better nursed. The postponement of the marriages to a later age, and also the fewer births in families, Sir Francis ascribes to a moral restraint acted upon by the population of this parish, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 317 both before marriage, and also after they have entered into the marriage state— a restraint, it seems, which their untutored good sense leads them to exert, and entirely conformable to the moral restraint inculcated by Malthus and Dr. Chalmers, This moral restraint, as an effective check upon the tendency to over-multi- plication, is, in reality, mere delusion. Moral restraint is an ex- pression ill-defined. The propagation of the species by marriage is not immoral in itself. It may be imprudent for a man to marry, and have a family of children whom he cannot support ; but it is confounding the landmarks of morality and prudence to say that marriage is moral in Canada, and immoral in Kent ; or should be placed under moral restraint when a man's banker's book, or his employer's tally book is against him, but is a moral and laud- able transaction if the balance be on the right side of the page. It is a delusion, or even worse in character than mere delusion, to conjure up false feelings of moral restraint, and erect a false moral standard in the human mind against acts which, however imprudent, are not immoral, and in all times, and under all cir- cumstances, unchangeably immoral. The immorality which it is proposed by these political economists to put under moral re- straint, is the imprudence of marrying without means to maintain a family. This imprudence is founded upon the poverty of the parties. This poverty again is founded upon what ? Upon their moral delinquency ? No, but upon the state to which they were born ; but this is no moral guilt — it is the effect of an evil con- struction of society, of a wrong distribution of property in it, by which a numerous class succeed to no property whatsoever. It is rather too much for our political economists to enlist moral re- straint into the defence of the fictitious feudal construction of society. This parish of Montreux proves the very reverse of the conclusions of Sir Francis d'lvernois, as to the use of this false moral restraint on improvident marriage. It shows that econo- mical restraint is sufficient. Our parish is divided into three com- munes or administrations. In that in which I am lodged, Vey- taux, there is not a single pauper, although there is an accumu- lated poor fund, and the village thinks itself sufficiently important to Iiave its post office, its fire engine, its watchman; and it has a landward population around. The reason is obvious without having recourse to any occult moral restraint, or any tradition of the evils of over-j)opulation from the fate of the ancient Helve- 318 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. tians, as Sir Francis absurdly supposes possible, whose emigration from over-population Julius Caesar repressed with the sword. The parish is one of the best cultivated and most productive vine- yards in Europe; and is divided in very small portions among a great body of small proprietors. What is too high up the hill for vines is in orchard, hay, and pasture land. There is no manufac- ture, and no chance work going on in the parish. These small proprietors, with their sons and daughters, work on their own land, know exactly what it produces, what it costs them to live, and whether the land can support two families or not. Their standard of living is high, as they are proprietors. They are well lodged, their houses well furnished, and they live well, although they are working men. I lived with one of them two summers successively. This class of the inhabitants would no more think of marrying without means to live in a decent way, than any gentleman's sons or daughters in England ; and indeed less, be- cause there is no variety of means of living, as in England. It must be altogether out of the land. The class below them, again, the mere labourers, or village tradesmen, are under a similar eco- nomical restraint, which it is an abuse of words and principles to call moral restraint. The quantity of work which each of the small proprietors must hire is a known and filled up demand, not very variable. There is no corn farming, little or no horse work, and the number of labourers and tradesmen who can live by the work and custom of the other class, is as fixed and known as the means of living of the land-owners themselves. There is no chance living— no room for an additional house, even for this class, because the land is too valuable, and too minutely divided, to be planted with a labourer's house, if his labour be not neces- sary. All that is wanted is supplied ; and until a vacancy natu- rally opens, in which a labourer and his wife could find work and house room, he cannot marry. The economical restraint is thus quite as strong among the labourers as among the class of pro- prietors. Their standard of living, also, is necessarily raised by living and working all day along with a higher class. They are clad as well, females and males, as the peasant proprietors. The costume of the canton is used by all. This very parish might be cited as an instance of the restraining powers of property, and of the habits, tastes, and standard of living which attend a wide diffusion of property among a people, on their own over-multipli- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 319 cation. It is a proof tiiat a division of property by a law of suc- cession difterent in principle from the feudal, is the true check upon over-population. The speculations of political economists on this subject are, with us, confined to philosophical discussion ; but on the Conti- nent—in Swhzerland and in Germany — they have been adopted as a basis of practical and altogether monstrous legislation. The Thurgovians, taking the alarm at the facts, that in 18 years preceding 1824, the proportion of births among them had been 1 in 27 of the people, and of deaths 1 in 31, and that in another canton, that of Tecino, of 77,000 people 2,932 were new-born, a vast proportion of whom died within the first year, proposed — that is, the administrators of their poor rates proposed — to their legislative body, that the marriages of the poor who were unable to pay the quota to the poor tax should be prohibited. The first article of their proposed law prohibits the marriage of males who live by public charity : the second requires that to obtain permis- sion to marry, a certificate from the overseers of the poor must be produced of the industry, and love of labour, and of the good conduct of the parties, and that, besides clothes, they are worth 700 francs French, or about 30/. sterling. The third article of this extraordinary law in a free state makes the marriage admissible without the proof of this 700 francs of value in movable pro- perty, if the parties have furniture free of debt, and pay the poor tax of 1 per mille upon fixed property. Their legislative body had sense enough to reject this absurd proposition in 1833. The canton of St. Gall, however, actually has imposed a tax on mar- riages ; and to make it popular, the amount goes to the poor fund. It fails, because, according to Sir Francis d'lvernois, it is too low, being 46 francs, about 71 francs French, or about 3/. sterling ; and because it is not graduated according to the ages of the parties, so as to prevent early marriages. But he thinks the principle excellent, as both Ricardo and Say, it seems, recommend the post- ponement of the marriageable age of the poor as an object of legislative enactment, — but not of the rich. Professor Weinhold, who proposed, in 1836, the infibulation of both sexes in Prussia to prevent the increase of population, was a sage and wise legislator compared to these great political economists, for his operation would have been at least equal for all classes ; and not a law affecting one class only. In (jermany, commissaries have actu- 320 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ally been appointed by some governments (Bavaria among others) who are invested with the power to refuse permission to marry to those whom they judge not able to support a family. They have a veto on marriages. All this monstrous, and demorali- zing, and tyrannical interference with the most sacred of those private rights for which man enters into social union with man, is the consequence of the absurd speculations of our English po- litical economists and their foreign proselytes, who see clearly enough the evil, but who do not see, or are afraid to state, that the remedy is not in a false code of morality, imposing moral restraint upon an act not immoral, — the marriage of the sexes ; nor in a false code of laws for preventing the most powerful stimulus of nature ; but in raising the civilization, habits, mode of living, and prudence of the lower classes of the community by a wider diffu- sion of property among them, by an inoculation of the whole mass of society with the restraints which property carries with it upon imprudence and want of forethouglit in human action. The object of the laws which these political economists propose to themselves is the postponement of marriages among the lowest class to 26 or 30 years of age, when it is assumed healthier chil- dren will be procreated. Of 214 marriages in this parish, the average age of the males was found to be 30, and of the females 26y\ years. But it is by no means an ascertained fact in physics, that the progeny of parents advanced far beyond puberty are more healthy than of parents who have just reached the age of puberty. Our breeders of cattle, sheep, horses, and dogs of valuable races, seem, on the contrary, to find improvement instead of deteriora- tion from putting them together at earlier ages than formerly. Our nobility and gentry in England marry at much earlier ages than our lower classes : and they are certainly finer animals than these or almost any other of the human species. Other causes than the age of the parents form the constitution of animals ; and to legislate upon a fact so imperfectly ascertained is sufficiently ab- surd. The ages of 30 and 26 years are probably the average of the greater proportion of marriages among our own lower and middle classes at present in Britain. On the Continent, most of the civil codes fix the age of puberty for females at 16, and for males at 18 years, and probably marriages do take place at >an ear- lier age abroad than with us. Sir Francis d'lvernois states that at Prselognan, in the States of Sardinia, in which a premium and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 321 even a pension is paid to fathers of families who have above 12 children, upon the old exploded idea that the numbers of the population form the strength of the state, the young men had voluntarily entered into a secret association, binding themselves not to marry before 2S years of age, in consequence of the misery they saw produced in their valley by over-population. They show intelligence in thisresohition ; but no such association would be necessary in any community in which property was attainable by industry ; for in few situations can or does the labouring man, if he is in the way of earning anything by his labour, think of marrying at an earher age than 28 or 30. It is only in Ireland, or in Sardinia, that the peasant sees no prospect of being better off at 2S or 30 years of age than at 18 ; and therefore very natu- rally and very properly marries at 18, or very early in life, so as to have a prospect of children grown up before he is past the age to work for them ; and who will be able to work for themselves, and perhaps for him when he is worn out. It is also by no means an ascertained fact, that a woman marrying at 26 and a man at 30 years of age will not have as large a family, as marrying at 18 and 20 years of age ; and it is clear that their children will not be so soon ready to help them. In Russia, the Emperor Nico- las fixed by an ukase, in 1830, the marriageable ages at IG for females, and 18 for men ; but this is stated by Sir Francis to arise from a circumstance which will scarcely be credited in civilized coimtries. The value of estates in Russia is reckoned according to the number of serfs; and the landed proprietors raise or force a population on their estates. And how ? As the male does not arrive at puberty so early as the female in the human species, the infant husband's marriage bed is filled by his father, until he comes to puberty ! — So says Sir Francis. But this barbarous practice for augmenting the number of serfs upon an estate is scarcely credible ; and can scarcely be general, if it ever did exist. It is more reasonable to suppose, that marriages below the ages fixed by the ukase took place to avoid the military service, as fathers of families would of course not be so liable to conscription as unmarried men ; and therefore the military age must be attained before a man can legally marry. Political economists have unfortunately used in their specula- tions the ambiguous term of moral restraint. Malthus evidently used it originally, as contra-distinctive merely to the tcims legal 322 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. restraint or physical restraint; but not as restraint founded on moral principle, on the moral innate sense of right or wrong. Prudential restraint, or economical restraint, would, perhaps, have expressed his meaning less ambiguously. But his followers, and. perhaps he himself in some passages, lost sight of the original meaning, and followed the ambiguity in the meaning of moral, so as to set up a new moral delinquency repugnant to the innate sentiments of right and wrong in the human breast. Men heard with indignation marriage, however imprudent and reckless, classed with fornication, or theft, as a moral delinquency ; and the morality or immorality of human action seriously stated even by divines, by Malthus and Dr. Chalmers, to depend upon pru- dential considerations. The rough untutored common sense of all men of the lower class rejected this new code of morality ; and the socialists and radicals with reason crow over the ecclesiastics in this argument. They ask for what purpose is this new-fash- ioned moral obligation in the most important of the actions of man, his marriage, to be inculcated ? Is it to support any natural and necessary system of society ? No. But to support an artifi- cial feudal division of property originating in the darkest and most barbarous ages, by which one son alone succeeds to the land, and the others with their posterity are thrown into that pauper class who must live on the taxes or alms of the rest of the community ; and must be debarred by legal enactment or by a false tuition of their moral obligations, from the common right of all animals, that of propagation by the law of their species by pairing or marriage. On the Continent, where speculative ideas are pushed to the extreme, the legitimate deduction from this new moral restraint has been carried to an extent which may alarm our pious moralists who first propounded it. The obliga- tion of this moral restraint on the poor is carried into their mar- riage beds. There are some subjects which it is difficult to treat with decency of expression. The physician, and also the moral- ist, occasionally meet with cases in which a clear understanding can only be attained at the expense of modesty. What is meant by this kind of moral restraint in marriage ? The prefet of the Department de la Somme, Monsieur Dunoyer, in transmitting to the communes of his department the money allotted for the maintenance of their paupers, publishes the following circular letter: "There are not two ways of escaping indigence. Fa- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 323 milies in indigence can only extricate themselves by activity, good sense, prudence, and economy — prudence, especially in the conjugal union, in avoiding icith an extreme care to render their marriage more fruitful than their industry.^^ What is meant by this " evitant avec un soin extreme de rendre leur ma- riage plus fecond que leur Industrie ?" Does it mean this official manifesto of the magistrate, which, if not law, comes with the force of an injunction from the administrator of the law, does it mean to recommend the stifling the fruits of marriage after birth ? or before birth ? or does it mean some practice which it is against modesty to imagine ? It is perhaps impossible to come nearer to the subject in decent language: but this "evitant de rendre leur mariage fecond" can only mean one or other of these three modes of avoiding any fruits of marriage ; or it must mean a separation of the parties from bed and board after cohabitation, or a rendering marriage de facto a temporary cohabitation, a marriage for a few months, renewed, or not, according to pecu- niary or convenient or economical circumstances. The Count Villeneuf de Bargemont, a prefet, counsellor of state, and deputy, under Charles X, in his " Economic Politique Chretienne, 3 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1834," takes this latter more innocent meaning, but one as injurious to social happiness as that which our political economists are supposed by the foreign political economists to have intended to recommend : and after a profound research into the writings of the fathers of the church, finds that" the Christian religion places continence between husband and wife, when it is by mutual consent, among the highest of virtues," In that en- lightened age, the eleventh century, more than one instance occurred during the Heptarchy, of royal saints who attained canonization by reaching the summit of this highest of virtues, by marrying, bedding, sleeping together, and remaining in vir- ginity all their lives. It is somewhat curious in the nineteenth century to find a Catholic lawyer imagining that two Protestant divines, one of the English church, and one ot the Scotch, re- commend this first of Christian virtues, and charitably coming to their assistance, and proving by citations, and authorities from the fathers, that their doctrine is quite agreeable to Christianity. The principal difficulty to be got over in the theory of this doctrine is in the simple question. Why marry at all, if people are not to live comformably to the married state, and to have fa- 324 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. milies in it ? or why not marry for a time, for a year or two, a month or two, a night or two ? The principal difficulty in the practice of this continence in marriage among the poorer class lies exactly in the circumstance which its foreign expounders consider as making it necessary — in their poverty. Where is the indigent family to find two rooms and two beds? or are they to sleep together husband and wife, yet preserve continency ? or are they to resort to any of the three other means hinted at, of " 6vi- tant de rendre leur mariage plus fecond que Jeur Industrie ?" Sir Francis d'lvernols suspects that the peasantry of Montreux must practise this latter precious moral means of preventing their mar- riages being more fruitful than their industry, and puts the ques- tion to their venerable minister. The old gentleman, who is in his ninety-fifth year, evidently laughing at the gullibility of the political economists of Geneva, refers him to the other side of the lake, the Catholic side, for information, as on his Protestant side there is no confessional through which the priest can become ac- quainted with such secret sins of his parishioners ; and observes, that in his youth the political economists from Geneva used to deplore the unprolific constitutions of the Vandoise females ; and. now it is become a subject of their congratulation ; but in his opinion, hard work, in which, as proprietors working for them- selves, they persevere, he thinks, even to an excess, exemption from misery, there being no destitution or extreme poverty, and exemption from great superfluity, or means of indulgence inde- pendent of work, have much to do with the matter ; and have raised among his flock a spirit of prudence, inculcated from gene- ration to generation, which postpones marriages until the parties can support a family. Sir Francis d'lvernois considers it quite certain that in France the practice of this highest of Christian virtues, the " 6vitant avecun soin extreme de rendre leur mariage plus feconde que leur Industrie," is extensively diff'used ; because the proportion of births to the population has since the Restoration been diminishing regularly; and is now only 1 in 33, or even less. Is it not more reasonable to suppose, that the same causes which in this parish of Montreux have, in the enlightened opinion of the minister, reduced the proportions to 1 in 46, are in operation also on a great scale in France ? that the possession of property has given to the whole population the habits of caution and prudence, and the use of gratifications of civilized life, which necessarily NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 325 postpone marriages until a later period of life, and until a pro- perty is acquired adequate to the higlier standard of living intro- duced by this universal diffusion of property ? The additional, and iiitherto unnoticed physical check pointed out by the minister, upon over-population in a country of small landed proprietors, must also have had its effect in France, viz., the spirit of hard work and of unremitting occupation of mind and body about their little properties, which the pastor of Montreux thinks is carried even to excess, and which is intimately connected with two other physical checks — the earlier age at which the pastor thinks his female parishioners cease to be prolific, and the prolongation of the period of nursing. The fact that France is supporting one- third more inhabitants from nearly the same extent of arable land than before the revolution, proves that this population must be much more laborious, and give more care and incessant work to their land. It is needless to add that idleness is a great originator of population, and is altogether propagational— and hard or in- cessant occupation of body and mind a most powerful physical check upon it, and is altogether anti-propagational. The most profound observation ever made in the science of political economy is that of Solomon — " The destruction of the poor is their poverty." It is their poverty that causes their over- multiplication, and their over-multiplication their poverty. Cure tlieir poverty, give them property, inoculate the whole mass of society with the tastes, habits, and feelings of prudence which attend the possession of property, by abolishing the laws of suc- cession which tend to concentrate all property in one upper class, and over-multiplication is cured. It is evidently curing itself ra- pidly in France, without the unnatural and immoral restraints recommended by political economists to be taught as injunctions of religion and morality by their clergy, or to be enforced as law by the local authorities. Political economists do not enter into the position of the poor man under our feudal construction of society. They arc ignorant of his calculations. They pour out the vials of their wrath against him for marrying Without having the means of supporting a family. But in his position it is the wisest and most moral step ho can take. He marries early, because he has a more reasonable chance of raising his children to an age to provide for themselves if he mar- ries early, than if he postpones his marrying until an age when 326 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. he must be failing in capability of work before they can work for themselves. If his family have no property, or reasonable pros- pect of property, but from their work, the sooner he can produce two or three working hands to help in their common subsistence the better. It is wisdom in his position to marry at twenty years of age, and folly to postpone it to thirty or thirty-five or forty, because he will be getting past hard work, especially piece-work, in the latter case, before his children can earn wages for full work as grown-up men and women. To tell him to wait until his savings enable him to keep his children is but a mockery. Wages of la- bour in no trade or position of life in which the mass of labourers exist admit of any such saving, without the giving up of all habits of civilization. It is out of the wages of labour, day by day, that the poor must subsist their families, not by any possible accumu- lation of savings out of their wages. If they postponed their marriages for such an accumulation, according to the recommend- ation of our political economists, they would find themselves be- tween fifty and sixty years of age, when a hard-worked man is sensibly failing, burdened with children to support, of an age too young to support themselves. The poor act much more wisely in having children grown up, and the expense of their infancy and rearing over, before they themselves begin to fail. It is here we see the truth of Solomon's observation that " the destruction of the poor is their poverty." Give them property, as a class, by abrogating the feudal law of succession, and all other impediments to the widest difiusion of property through society, and the moral and economical restraints arising from property and prudential consideration, would postpone their marriage age until the period most suitable for their interests. The very same prudential con- sideration hastens their marriage age now, in their hopeless, end- less state of destitution of property. The state of France furnishes a remarkable illustration of this principle. In France property is widely diffused, population is increasing, yet the number of births is decreasing. Of those born many more live to be added to the population, although the actual births are in proportion almost one-third fewer in numbers than in countries in which property is not diffused as in France. Can there be a more satisfactory proof of the right working of the great social experiment now in pro- gress in France ? The number of children reared in proportion NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 327 tion with respect to food, lodging, and domestic habits of those who rear them — of the people. A political economy opposed to the moral and natural economy of society is unsound. It rests upon an arbitrary expediency only. The speculations upon artificial checks to the increase of popula- latioii by legislative, educational, or conventional restraints incon- sistent with the natural rights, moral duties, and social relations of the individuals composing the po.orer classes, are altogether false in principle. The administration of the poor law by the commis- sioners in England — the separation of husband and wife — of pa- rents and children — the confinement in workhouses of all receiving relief — cannot be justified on any principle but expediency ; and on that, anything — the veto on marriages among the poor — the enormities alluded to by Sir Francis d'lvernois — anything and everything in short may be justified. The destitute either have a right or have not a right to relief If they have not, it is a robbery to take the sum from the richer class to relieve them. If they have, from the nature and constitution of property and society, a right inherent in them as animals to such a portion of the fruits of God's earth as will maintain them, it is unjust and tyrannical to withhold that portion, except on conditions inconsistent with their free agency and enjoyment of life as moral inteUigent beings. The expediency-principle of making the poor-rate relief as sour as possible to the receiver, in order to lessen the pecuniary burden on the giver, would justify the exterminating, or torturing, or mutilating the pauper class. This is from first to last a false legis- lation. The expediency itself arises only from false legislation — from throwing the whole burden of supporting the poor upon one kind of property only, and one class of proprietors : and then at- tempting, by such an administration of the poor rates, to alleviate the burden which this exemption of all other kinds of property necessarily accumulates to a ruinous extent upon that one kind — the land. In Switzerland each parish has its Alp, that is, its common pas- ture, for the cows of the parish — which is the proper meaning of the word Alp — and each inhabitant is entitled to a cow's grazing, or half a cow's grazing, from June to October, on this common pasture. The grazing rights are highly prized, for the Swiss peasant is extravagantly fond of his cow. To pass a winter without a cow to care for, would be_ a heavy life to him. Few, 328 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. however, have cows in sufficient number to repay the labour of attending them at the summer grazing in the Alps, The proper- ties are too small, in general, to keep more than five or six cows all winter: and few can keep more than half that number. Yet these small proprietors contrive to send cheeses to market as large as our Cheshire dairy farmers with their dairy stocks of forty or fifty cows, and farms rented at 200/. or 300/. a year. This is a signal instance of the absurdity of the flogma in agriculture so implicitly received by all our political economists from books on farming — that small farms are incompatible with good husbandry, or farm- ing operations on a great scale. Gruyere and Parmesan cheeses are quite as large as Cheshire cheeses ; and, as the price shows, are incomparably better in quality. They are made by small farmers, each of whom has not, on an average, the milk of half a dozen cows to make cheese of. Each parish in Switzerland hires a man, generally from the district of Gruyere, in the can- ton of Freyberg, to take care of the herd, and make the cheese ; and if the man comes from Gruyere, all that he makes is called Gruyere cheese, although made far enough from Gruyere. One cheeseman, one pressman or assistant, and one cowherd, are con- sidered necessary for every forty cows. The owners of the cows get credit, each of them, in a book daily, for the quantity of milk given by each cow. The cheeseman and his assistants milk the cows, put the milk all together, and make cheese of it, and at the end of the season each owner receives the weight of cheese pro- portionable to the quantity of milk his cows have delivered. By this co-operative plan, instead of the small-sized, unmarketable cheeses only, w^hich each could produce out of his three or four cow's milk, he has the same weight in large marketable cheese superior in quality, because made by people who attend to no other business. The cheeseman and his assistants are paid so much per head of the cows, in money or in cheese, or, sometimes, they hire the cows, and pay the owners in money or cheese. When we find this, which of all operations in husbandry seems most to require one large stock, and one large capital applied to it, so easily accomplished by the well-understood co-operation of small farmers, it is idle to argue that draining, or irrigation, or liming, or fencing, or manuring, or any operation whatsoever in farming, to which large capital is required, cannot be accom- plished also by small farmers — not small tenant-farmers, but NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 329 small proprietor- fanners like the Swiss. In October the cows are brought home, and the home grass-lands having been mown for hay twice during the summer, the winter food is provided, and a very small area of land keeps a cow when the home grass has not been burdened with the summer grazing. The pasture in these Alps, or summer grazings, is abundant and rich. In some of the upper valleys, inhabited winter as well as summer, but in which the corn-crops are secondary, and dairy produce the main object^as, for instance, Grindewald — a man with a house suita- bly situated is permanently established for receiving the milk of the neighbourhood. Each family takes care of and milks its own cow or cows, keeps the milk wanted for family use, and sends the rest of it daily to the cheeseman, who gives each family credit for the quantity of milk delivered each day ; and the cheese made during the season is divided, or very usually the cheese is mar- keted, and the money divided : and in this way cheeses of great weight are manufactured, although no one cow owner has milk enough to make one of marketable size. I went one warm fore- noon, while ascending the Rhigi, into one of these dairy houses. From the want of dairy-maids, or females about the place, and the appearance of the cow-man and his boys, I thought it prudent to sit down on the bench outside of the smoky dwelling room, and to ask for a bowl of milk there. It was brought me in a remark- ably clean wooden bowl, and I had some curiosity, when, clean or dirty, my milk was swallowed, to see where it came from. The man took me to a separate wooden building; and instead of the disgusting dirt and sluttishness I had expected, I found the most unpretending cleanliness in this rough milk room— nothing was in it but the wooden vessels belonging to the dairy ; but these were of unexceptionable nicety; and all those holding the milk were standing in a broad rill of water led from the neighbouring burn, and rippling through the centre of the room, and pre- vented by a little side sluice from running too full, and mingling with the milk. This burn running through gave a freshness and cleanliness to every article ; although the whole was of rude construction, and evidently for use, not show. The cows were stabled, I found, at some distance from the milk-house, that the effluvia of their breath and dung might not taint the milk. Cheese is almost the only agricultural product of Switzer- land that is exported ; and it is manufactured by these small 22 330 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. farmers certainly as well, with as much intelligence, cleanliness, and advantage as by large farmers. Grain the country must import; and the supply is principally from the east side of the lake of Constance. Wine is not produced in greater quantity than the country consumes. The Swiss cows are exported even to Russia, and to all parts of France and Germany ; but as Swiss pasturage, and Swiss care, and love for the cow are not export- able, these agricultural improvements generally fail. The Swiss cows are very handsome animals, and of great value. A fine cow will sell for 20/. sterling in Switzerland. Such a cow in England would bring the same price in any good market. In all this branch of husbandry, the small farming system is not in any respect behind the large farming system. In' corn husbandry, from the nature of the country, no very extensive tracts dedicated entirely to raising corn-crops are met with, except in the cantons of Bern, Thurgovia, and a few other localities. To judge of the agriculture of a country by the appearance of the crops on the ground, of the working stock, utensils, drainage, fencing, and attention to manure, and from the state of all farm buildings and accomodations, Switzerland stands very high even as a corn country well farmed. The peculiar feature in the condition of the Swiss population — the great charm of Switzerland, next to its natural scenery — is the/ air of well-being, the neatness, the sense of property im- printed on the people, thek dwellings, their plots of land. They have a kind of Robinson Crusoe industry about their houses and little properties ; they are perpetually building, repairing, altering, or improving something about their tenements. The spirit of the proprietor is not to be mistaken in all that one sees in Switzerland. Some cottages, for instance, are adorned with long texts from Scripture painted on or burnt into the wood in front over the door; others, especially in the Simmenthal and the Haslethal, with the pedigree of the builder and owner. These show sometimes that the property has been held for 200 years by the same family. The modern taste of the proprietor shows itself in new windows, or additions to the old original picturesque dwelling, which, with its immense projecting roof sheltering or shading all these successive little additions, looks like a hen sitting with a brood of chickens under her wings. The little spots of land, each close no bigger than a garden, show the same daily NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 331 I care in the fencing, digging, weeding, and watering. The vine- yard luisbandry is altogether a garden cnltivation,in which manual labour, unassisted by animal power, scarcely even by the simplest mechanical contrivance, such as wheelbarrows, harrows, or other assisting implements to the basket, hoe, and spade, does every operation ; and this gives the character to all their husbandry ; hand-labour is applied to all crops, such as potatoes, Indian corn, and even common grain crops, more extensively, both in digging and cleaning the land, than with us. It is not uncommon to find agricultural villages without a horse ; and all cultivation done by hand, especially where the main article of husbandry is either dairy produce, or that of the vineyard, to eitlier of which horse work is unnecessary. I confess I do not like a vine-farm. The vineyard is but a garden. The hand-labour is incessant in all the different operations, and yet it is not, like the hand-labour in a garden, applied to but a few fruit trees, or plants, or beds with which you form a kind of acquaintance that ripens into friend- ship in the course of years. The vines are too many, and each too insignificant by itself for that kind of pleasure, and the land under vines being always under vines, you don't get intimate either with the acres or beds, as in corn and grass husbandry, nor with the individual plants, as in gardening. Then the eye has nothing agreeable to dwell upon in the dotty effect of a field of vines ; and the eaj misses the rural music of a farm — the crowing of the cock— the lowing of the cattle — the sound of the Hail. In sheep-farming, cattle-farming, horse-breeding, corn-farming, or- chard or kitchen-gardening, or flower-gardening, a man may be an amateur, may have a singular delight, a very craze— but I could never hear of any such feeling about vine-farming. It is, in spite of poetry, a dull manufacture. Two circumstances attending the great diffusion of laifdcd pro- perty among the people strike the traveller in Switzerland; one is the great perfection it gives to their social arrangements. I lodged in a little hamlet (Veytaux),so inconsiderable that it could not support a shop, nor a shoemaker, tailor, or tradesman living by his trade. I found, however, that there was a regular post- office in the place, although it was not a thoroughfare to other places; a regular watchman by night, calling the hours as in great towns; two public fountains, with regulations for keeping them clean painted on boards at the spouts; a kind of market- 332 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. place, in which all the orders or edicts of the canton, or of the federal government were posted up under a wire covering, for the public information ; and a fire-engine in good order, and which occasionally was brought out, and the people exercised in its use. Towns of twenty or thirty times the population in Scotland and England have no such social arrangements. I am speaking of a hamlet of thirty, or at the outside forty houses. The other circum- stance which strikes the traveller is the condition and appearance of the female sex, as it is affected by the distribution of land among the labouring class. None of the women are exempt from field-work, not even in the families of very substantial peas- ant proprietors, whose houses are furnished as well as any coun- try manse with us. All work as regularly as the poorest male individual. The land, however, being their own, they have a choice of work, and the hard work is generally done by the men. The felling and bringing home wood for fuel, the mowing grass generally, but not always, the carrying out manure on their backs, the handling horses and cows, digging, and such heavy labour is man's work; the binding the vine to the pole with a straw, which is done three times in the course of its growth, the making the hay, the pruning the vine, twitching off the superfluous leaves and tendrils, — these lighter yet necessary jobs to be done about vineyards or orchards form the women's work. But females, both in France and Switzerland, appear to have a far more im- portant role in the family, among the lower and middle classes than with us. The female, although not exempt from out-door work, and even hard work, undertakes the thinking and manag- ing department in the family affairs, and the husband is but the executive officer. The female is, in fact, very remarkably superior in manners, habits, tact, and intelligence to the husband, in almost every family of the middle or lower classes in Switzerland. One is surprised to see the wife of such good, even genteel manners, and sound sense, and altogether such a superior person to her station ; and the husband very often a mere lout. The hen is the better bird all over Switzerland. This is, perhaps, an effect of the military or servile employment of a great proportion of the male population during youth, and of the mercenary spirit too prevalent in Switzerland. In France, also, the female takes her full share of business with the male part of the family, in NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 333 keeping accounts and books and selling goods, and in both conn- tries occupies a higher and more rational social position certainly than with us. This seems to be the effect of the distribution of property, by which the female has her share and interest, as well as the male ; and grows up with the same personal interest and sense of property in all around her. CHAPTER XV. LYONS.— ON ITS MANUFACTURING SYSTEM. — NOTES ON AVIGNON. — FRENCH BARRACKS. — COOKERY. — ITS EFFECTS ON NATIONAL WEALTH. Lyons, with its narrow dark streets and lofty old houses on each side, resembles some of the old parts of the old town of Edinburgh. It is built at the confluence of the Rhone and Saone, upon a flat tongue of land, so narrow that the stranger is sur- prised, on taking the breadth of the city, to come so soon from the one river quay to the other ; and on taking its length in his walk, he can scarcely believe that this is the second city in France, a city nearly as populous as EdinbWgh. In 1831, it contained 165,459 inhabitants; and Edinburgh in 1831 reckoned 178,371. But on looking more carefully, the traveller perceives that the secondary streets are remarkably narrow, the houses very lofty and densely inhabited, each a little town of people within itself, and, as in Edinburgh, a great proportion of the inhabitants lodge in the air, not on the surface of the earth. In this chief seat of the silk manufacture in France, and, at no distant period in Europe, the manufacturing arrangements are apparently ill adapted to the improvement, extension, or even the future existence of its trade, against the competition of England, Prussia, and Switzerland. The old leaven of the corporation system sticks to Lyons ; and the distress in which her operatives are so frequently plunged that their whole existence, it may be said, is distress, is very much the consequence of a faulty arrange- ment of business not suitable to the times. The master-manu- facturer has no factory and workmen constantly in his employ. He merely buys the raw material, and gives it out to be sorted, spun, dyed, and put in a state for the silk weaver. In these operations, which are not conducted in his own premises or factory, he has but very imperfect checks upon embezzlement, and none upon waste. The division of labour in a manufacture is not always economical. It is a very nice point, in practice, to NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 335 judge of its applicability, and to adjust it to advantage. Cheap production may arise from a division of labour under one head or master-manufacturer ; but faulty processes, loss of time, and a waste of labour and means, may arise from a division among different sub-capitals, and independent operators, of such labour or operations as are essential for producing a good and cheap product. It requires great judgment to determine — happily self-interest is the surest guide — what may be left to others to prepare, and what the manufacturer must, from first to last, carry on himself In Lyons, in the silk trade, the laying or preparing the pattern for the loom is the work of independent workmen ; although the patterns are produced by a draughtsman, who is generally a partner with the master-manufacturer. The weavers again are independent workmen, also, living and working eacli in his^own shop, with two or three looms for different kinds of fabric, and with journey mem to work them. He lodges and boards the journeymen, finds the looms and the work, and gets one-half or one-third of their earnings, according to the regulations or customs of the craft, as established for the different stufis or fabrics. This master- weaver is paid for the work by the master-manufacturer so much per ell. This is the state of infancy in manufacturing operations with us — a happy infancy, but still a state of infancy in which capital has not been accumulated, or machinery in- vented, to enable the master-manufacturer to concentrate his operations. It is evident that the eye and superintendence of the master- manufacturer cannot be given to quality and economy, where every operation essential to the manufacture is not under one roof, or one guidance, with partners and managers attending it, and with workmen responsible directly to one head, and whose hands are always kept employed in the same kinds of work. When the web is done it is too late to check faulty workmansiiip, or save the character of the goods, by putting better workmen or better material to it. As long as the Continent had only Lyons, and England only her French colony in Spital fields, to look to for the greater part of their silk fabrics, the system went on ; but when Manchester, Paisley, and, on the Continent, Zurich, and other places, took up the silk trade upon dilfercnt manufacturing princi- ples, the superior economy and quality of their fabrics mined these old seats of the silk manufacture. England, about twelve years 336 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ago, was reckoned to haVe about 10,000 looms engaged in the silk manufacture, and is now reckoned to have about 80,000. Lyons and its neighbourhood has now but 31,000; and Zurich and its neighbourhood is reckoned to have above 20,000. In all that regards the preparation of the silk, and the texture and quality of the stuffs, the English excel the French manufactures, and in economy so decidedly, that the ell of silk stuff which cannot be produced at Lyons under the cost for labour of 120 to 125 cent- imes, costs in labour only 40 centimes in England. A certain number of privileged workmen are alone entitled to set up as masters in the weaving and other branches of the silk manufacture at Lyons, and are entitled to exclude others from the exercise of their trade. They must have served as apprentices and as jour- neymen for certain periods, and cannot set up for themselves with- out large fees of entry for the freedom of the craft, be the demand for looms ever so great. The French Revolution gave political liberty only to the people — the forms of constitutional government — but gave them no civil liberty, nor to this day is civil liberty, or the perfect freedom of every citizen to act for himself without interference, understood or thought of by the French people any more than before the Revolution. The municipal taxes on the transit of goods through towns, the leave and license necessary to carry industry from one locality to another, and the restraints upon its free exercise, as here in silk weaving, are in full vigour. The only argument in favour of this system of corporate privileges is, that it allows the small capitalist as well as the large to live, and this is not an argument to be despised in social economy. The weaver with his two or three looms has an independent existence; and, however inefficient as a producer of silk fabrics at the cheap- est rate compared to th6 master-manufacturer, who has a couple of hundred looms perhaps at work under his eye, with all that pre- cedes and follows the weaving going on simultaneously, he is one of a body far more valuable in social relation than the two or three great capitalists who supersede this body of middle class manu- facturers. But this is, unhappily, the natural and unavoidable progress of manufacturing industry. Large capital, when it comes into competition with small capital in the world's wide market, inevitably drives the small out of the field. An aristocracy of large capitalists obtains the possession, the property it may be called, of supplying all human wants, and holds it by the best of NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 337 all tenures — that of being able to supply mankind cheapest. It is a manufacturing and physical good, but a social and moral evil. The actual operative in Great Britain has no prospect before him. He may save a few hundred pounds by unceasing industry and sobriety ; but why should he save it ? This little saved capital — call it thousands instead of hundreds of pounds sterling— can do nothing in the present state of our trade and manufactures, in competition with the vast capitals accumulated by long inheritance, pre-occupying every branch of industry and manufacture, and producing far cheaper than he can do with bis trilling means. Land, by the effect of the corn laws, and of the privilege accorded to that kind of property, is out of his reach as much as trade and manufacture ; there being no small estates in Britain, generally speaking, which a labouring or middle class man could purchase and sit down upon with his family to live as a working yeoman, or peasant proprietor ; small capitals, when they are accumulate^, are forced into trade and manufacture, although every branch is over-supplied with the means of producing. What can a man turn to who has a little capital of three or four thousand pounds ? What can he enter into with any reasonable prospect of not losing his little capital in his most honest and prudent efforts ? And what can the working man do but spend his earnings, drink, and fall into a reckless improvident way of living, when he sees clearly that every avenue to an independent condition is, by the power of great capital, shut against liim ? A vassalage in manufacture and trade is succeeding the vassalage in land, and the serf of the loom is in a lower and more helpless condition than the se;-f of the glebe ; because his condition appears to be not merely the effect of an artificial and faulty social economy, like the feudal, which may be remedied, but to be the unavoidable effect of natural causes. Mankind will naturally prefer the best and cheapest goods. Great capitals will naturally produce better and cheaper than small capitals applied to the same objects. Corporations, trade restrictions, privileges either of masters or workmen, and all such local or partial legislation, add to instead of curing the evil, for they can only reach the producers, not the consumers ; and few, indeed, are the branches of industry, in which the producers have a command of the market. The feudalization going on in our manufacturing social economy is very conspicuous in some of the great cotton factories. The master-manufacturer in some 338 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. districts, who employs eight hundred or a thousand hands, deals in reality only with fifty or sixty sub-vassals or operative cotton spinners, as they are technically called, who undertake the work- ing of so many looms, or spinning jennies. They hire and pay the men, women, and children, who are the real operatives, grind- ing their wages down to the lowest rate, and getting the highest they can out of the master-manufacturer. A strike is often the operation of these middle men, and productive of little benefit to, and even against the will of the actual workmen. They are, in the little imperium of the factory, the equivalent to the feudal barons. In a few branches of the silk trade, in the elegance^of pattern, and in some few dyes, the Lyons manufacturer still has a pre-emi- nence. The draughtsman and dyer are educated in the branches of science and fine art connected with their trade. Science and good taste in colours and patterns are more diffused in France by education, social habits, and cultivation even among the working class, than among our middle class. In every departmental town, a public school of design for the working class, and exhibitions of models, and objects coimected with the cultivation of taste, are established. Elegance, and variety of fashion in patterns, can, it is probable, never be overtaken by machinery, or by the class of workmen who are but parts in a machine, so well as by the manual labour of independent workmen of taste and skill under the French system. In the figured stuffs in which hand-labour is not and cannot be superseded by machinery on account of the changeable and short-lived fashion, the French workmen excel ours, and can work 25 per cent, cheaper. Fashion is too evanes- cent and variable to be followed up closely by machinery ; and our corn laws, and other taxes affecting labour, turn the balance against us, where hand-labour is in competition with hand-labour. It is, however, a remarkable sign of the times, that what is called fashion in colours, patterns, and materials of dress, appears to be growing less changeable and fantastic as the world grows older. As the body of the middle and lower classes, and not merely the court and highest class, become consumers, and regulate the mar- ket, good taste, or taste with reference to the useful in its require- ments, becomes more prevalent, and its application more steady. One no where sees now, as fifty years ago, except, it may be, in remote little German towns, sky-blue, or pink, or green, or pom- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 339 padour coats, or people walking the streets in silk stockings, silk breeches, and powdered hair. The taste of the middle class, the mass of the consumers, has invaded the empire of fashion, and, in fact, sets the Aishion to the higher classes ; and the nobleman now would be laughed at, who appeared in any other shape, colour or material of clothing, than the well-dressed tradesman. Exclusiveness, the soul of fashion, cannot exist in the present cheap, extensive production of clothing material. This greater steadiness of fashion with the great mass of the consumers of cloth, cotton, and silk, and the longer endurance, and greater extension of the demand for any fashion that once gets estab- lished, enable machinery and large capital to work even upon objects which would have been left formerly to hand-work ; and the field for hand-loom weavers is narrowed to the production of a few fancy articles. The hand-loom weavers in the silk trade in Lyons appear to have been for the last hundred years in no supe- rior or more prosperous condition than those in Spitalfields. As far back as 1740, it appears by a petition to the local autho- rities at Lyons for raising the rates of weaving the ell of silk stuff, that the earnings of a master-weaver with three looms in full work all the year fell short of the necessary expense of a family living in the poorest way. The statement of the hand-loom weavers reckons 296 working days (52 Sundays, 17 holidays, and 6 days of military town guard duty, being deducted), and reckons 800 ells a year the production of each loom. Bread is taken at 2 sous per lb., and 10 'lbs. as the daily allowance of a man, his wife, two children, and a journeyman. • Meat is taken at 6 sous, and 2.i lbs. daily for such a family, and wine 1 pint, at 6 sous; and to meet this condition of subsistence with such a family in full work, the earnings are shown to be deficient. How then has this class of operatives existed through a century? By going down lower in the scale of subsistence, in the enjoyment of the comforts and necessaries of life. It is impossible to foresee how low the condition of many masses of population may be reduced in the working manufacturing classes. It has no minimum of depression, as there appears to be in the condition of the working agricultural class. The reproduction of the husbandman's food, and of seed for the following crop, is the point below which the condition of the labouring husbandman cannot permanently fall. Population and cultivation stop at that point ; and ovcr-i)roduclion 340 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. is a good, not an evil, where the producers are themselves the principal consumers. In manufacturing industry there is no such defined terminus. Labour and production go on, whether food and cost are reproduced by the operatives or not; and over-pro- duction is followed by famine to them. The very prosperity of one great body reduces another great body to want in manufac- turing industry. One would almost think there is a balance point in social well-being, which society has already reached, and that now the higher one end is mounting, the lower the other end is descending. Although the peculiar manufacture of Lyons, the silk weaving, is declining, the country around Lyons is flourish- ing. Building, repairing, whitewashing, are going on briskly in the villages. New cotton or flax factories, iron-works, andsteam- engine chimneys are rising along the river side. Steamboats, rail- roads from coal works and quarries, river craft carrying goods, iron suspension-bridges across the stream, are far more numerous on the Rhone than on the Rhine — bustle and business far more advanced. Industry, in spite of the trammels on its free develop- ment, is on the move in this part of France, although its objects are changing from the manufacturing of one single article of luxury, silk, to the production of a great variety of useful articles, for which the command of coal and water carriage in this district gives peculiar facilities. This will be a great manufacturing dis- trict, and only wants civil liberty to be so : it surpasses already, in the activity on the waters, and in the numbers of new factories, and manufacturing villages, and establishments on their banks, the German manufacturing districts on the Rhine. Here they are doing, — there they are but dreaming of doing. The ancient palace of the popes at Avignon is now converted into a barrack for infantry. The popes resided at Avignon full 73 years, from 1 303 to 1 376. There is nothing remaining of those times, but the outward shell of the buildings, and the names of the different chambers — the chamber of inquisition, the chamber of torture, the chamber of execution, and among the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood, it is said a tendency to favour despotism, fanaticism, and legitimacy in royal rights. The cham- bers in the old papal residence, so agreeably handed down to pos- terity by their religious uses, and in which the names of victims are said to be still legible on the plaster of the walls, subject to the doubt if writing was so ordinary an accomplishment in the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 341 fourteenth century — were washed in blood at the Revolution. The crimes and sufferings spread over a century were surpassed in a day. And now these chambers of blood resound with the careless laugh and merry vaudeville of the young soldiery. A French barrack is worth seeing. The beds appear particularly- good. Each private had a bed to himself on an iron bedstead. In our service, two and even three men are laid in one bed. The French peasantry, even in the lowest condition, are accustomed to good beds. A high pile of bedding seems a kind of ornamental furniture indispensably necessary in their ideas of housekeeping ; and you see even in the single-room households of the poor, a kind of display in the neatness and quantity of bedding. This taste has probably spread so widely as to act upon the military- accommodation. Each bed had a brown cloth covering, neatly- covering the bed-clothes, and the sheets and matresses were as clean and nicely done up as in any hospital. In this barrack it struck me as characteristic of the good relation between the officers and men, that on the inside of the door was stuck up a notice, that it would not be reputable to be seen in certain streets men- tioned, on account of houses of ill-fame in them. A great quantity of very good wit, which might have served the owners for any of their lawful occasions, was expended some year ago upon the subject of cookery. The French began with their Science Gastronomique, their Almanacs des Gourmands, their saucepans and gridirons of honour, and a thousand equally witty sayings and doings. Our manufacturers of roast and boiled, and printed paper, our Kitcheners, Udes, and Glasses, were not behind, and mixed up their flour and melted butter with wit and philosophy as well as their neighbours. The subject is not quite so ridiculous as it has been made. The food of a people, and its preparation, are closely connected with their industry and civili- zation. The female half of the human species do little other work in most communities but cook : and much more than half of all the work of the other moiety is applied to the direct production of l!ie materials for cooking. The least observant and least hungry of travellers abroad is struck with admiration at the readiness with which a dinner of eight or ten dishes of various eatables makes its appearance in foreign inns, and remembers with no patriotic feeling the never-ready perpetual mutton-chop and mashed pota- toes of the English road. Yet much of our national prosperity 342 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and wealth, much of the capital and productiveness of our labour- ing and middle classes, and especially of the industrious who are in a state of transition from tiie one class to the other, may be as- cribed to the greater simplicity and frugality of diet among us : and particularly to the great saving of time and labour in its pre- paration. A working man, tradesman, or man in the labouring or middle class in ordinary employment, sits down abroad to a much better dinner than a man of good realized capital and in a thriving way, with us. The three or four well-dressed dishes, principally of legumes or other cheap materials, cost the foreigner less perhaps in money than the bread and cheese, or simply-cooked mutton and potatoes of the English dinner of the man of the same class. This is the main economical advantage, indeed, which absentee families promise themselves from settling abroad. It is to them, no doubt, an advantage. They eat and drink more sumptuously than they could at home for the same money. But this way of living is of great social disadvantage to the people among whom it is habitual. Its cheapness is but a delusion. The political economist will differ widely from the traveller, in his opinion of its superiority. It costs a vast deal more time and labour to bring all this finely-cooked food together : it costs, at the least, twice as much of human time and labour to dine five millions of French or German people, as to dine five millions of English ; and time and labour, be it remembered, are the basis of all national wealth and prosperity. Time and labour employed unreproductively are capital thrown away. The meals of the Englishman and of the continental man end equally in satiating appetite, and recruiting strength. If this end be attained in Eng- land by an hour's work of one person in a family of five, in the ordinary station of life of our working and middle class, cooking generally but a single meal in the day in the simplest way, and on the Continent, owing to the general habit of living, the more complicated forms of cookery, and the more frequent meals, if the cooking for such a family occupies one of its members the whole day, the English family evidently has saved most capital, or th^t from which alone capital is produced — time and labour — in a given period. The loss of time in the eating and preparation of food, the numerous meals, dishes, and modes of cookery, form a very important drawback on the prosperity of families on the Continent in that station in which, with us, very little time, indeed, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 343 is expended in feating or cooking. It is an important dinriinution of the means of national wealth. Gournmndize is found also to be a vice as troublesome to deal with among the French soldiery as tippling among ours. The craving for variety of food and cookery leads to most of the irregularities and depredations in the field, of which the French armies are accused. The variety in food, and in its complicated preparation, which is so blended with the habits of living on the Continent that even the peor have the craving for it, appears by no means necessary or conducive to health. A remarkably smaller proportion of the labouring and middle classes abroad are healthy-looking individuals with bloom- ing looks, pure teeth, and all external indications of vigorous animal condition, than in our more simply fed population. It is evidently such a drawback on the acquiring of capital in the lower stations of life, that the want of a middle class of capitalists — of men who rise by industry and frugality from common labour to a wider circle of business— is very much to be ascribed to this habitual waste of time and labour in their family living and house- keeping. They spend in immediate gratification the beginnings of a working capital. The national wealth and prosperity is ma- terially affected by this cause, trifling and ridiculous as it appears to be in stating it in a single case. In the total, however, it is fully a fifth of the time and labour of a continental population, that is daily wasted in cookery and eating. CHAPTER XVr. HOTES ON GENOA.— POOR OF GENOA— CAUSES OF THE DECLINE OF GENOA. Genoa — Genoa the superb ! I first set my foot on Italian land on the mole of Genoa. Who does not picture to himself, on approaching the mole of Genoa, the grand days of this once powerful republic — her doges, her Doria, and all her magnificent aristocracy stepping in splendid array on board of gallant fleets that carried her dominion over the realms of the East ? How unromantic is reality ! The moles of Genoa, as works of mag- nificence and art, are but shabby quays, not to be named on the same day with the quays of Leith, Dundee, Aberdeen, or dozens of our third-rate shipping towns on the British coast. I see in Genoa only a town of eighty thousand inhabitants, covering about as much ground as Aberdeen, built at the foot and on the slopes of some rocky barren knolls of about the same elevation, and as bare as the upper half of Arthur's Seat near Edinburgh, and which surround a bight of the coast, called by courtesy a bay, of about the size of one of the larger wet docks of Liverpool, at the bottom of a gulf of the Mediterranean. This bight is made a tolerably secure port by two piers or moles dividing it into an outer and inner harbour : the latter for small craft, and containing a good many of them, and the other for larger vessels, of which, that is of brigs and traders to foreign parts, there might be a score or more — a show of masts certainly inferior to what we see daily in our third-rate ports, such as Dundee, Aberdeen, or Leith. This is, next to Leghorn, the greatest commercial port on this side of Italy — one of the main mouths of the export and import of a population equal to that of Great Britain — so that the poor muster of sea-going vessels in it surprises the traveller. . The streets of Genoa are in general so narrow that tw^ ladies in the huge sleeves lately in fashion would certainly stick if they met each other. They are all paved with flat stones of a foot or NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 345 two square, laid diagonally, and with an open channel in the middle of the alley for the run of water. Climate is a better scavenger than the dean of guild, or dirt-baillie of our ancient Scotch burghs. These narrow wynds and closes of Genoa are not dirty, and from the constant draught of air through such nar- row funnels, are sweet and cool in hot weather. The buildings on each side of these narrow alleys are palaces— lofty, magnifi- cent, extensive palaces rising to the skies, excluding heat and even light from the two-legged insects dressed in brown woollen cloaks crawling between theiYi. Here in Genoa, the imaginative traveller may revel in his de- scriptions of orange groves, vine-clad hills, and marble palaces, mingled in luxuriant magnificence, and rising against a background of heaven-high peaks of snow cutting into a deep blue sky above, and washed beneath by a sea still more intensely blue. But that miserable proseman, the political economist, goes dodging about this magnificent city, the city of palaces, the Genova la Superba, asking. Where do your middle classes live ? Where did they live in the days of Genoa's greatness? He sees now that the same roof covers the beggar and the prince ; for, on the ground-floors, under the marble staircases, and marble-paved halls, and superb state rooms on the first floor, there are vaults, holes, and coach- house-like places opening into the streets, in which the labouring class and small shopkeepers pig together, living, cooking, and doing all family work half and half in the open air. But was this always so ? Where did, or where do they live, who are neither princes nor beggars? who are a degree above porters, or day labourers, or the small shopkeeper or tradesman living by their custom, in the means and habits of a civilized existence ? Where be the snug, comfortable, suitable dwellings for this middle class, the pith and marrow of a nation, which cover the land in England and Scotland so entirely that the great mansion is the exception, not the rule, in our national iiabitations, wealthy as the nation is? Here, all is palace, and all is noblesse, public functionary, and beggar. They reckon in Genoa, in clerical function alone, 6,000 persons, and 7,000 military. Sweep away the edifices of nobility, those appropriated to public functionaries and their business, to- gether with churches, convents, hospitals, barracks, theatres, and such public buildings, and Genoa would scarcely be a town. Yet 23 346 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Genoa is not a poor town in one sense. Many of these palaces are inhabited by a wealthy nobiUty, and, it is said, there are more capitalists, more great capitalists in Genoa, than in any town in Italy. To have erected, and to keep up such palaces as they live in, or even to afford so much dead stock as is invested in the mere material, the marble, gilding, pictures of value, orna- ments, and costly furniture, speaks of enormous wealth, both in past and present days. Some traveller tells us, that the Italian noble will go on building and building at a family palace from generation to generation, living in the meantime in a corner of it, or in a garret, poorly and shabbily. This is certainly not the case here. 1 underwent the usual sight-seeing penance of the traveller, and was trotted by a valet-de-place through sundry magnificent palaces — the Palavicini, the Brignoli, the Durazzi, and others. These appeared to me as complete in furniture, establish- ment of servants, and all the magnificence of life, as any noble- man's mansion in any country. In one palace, for instance, as we entered the hall in the morning about 9 o'clock, the chaplain of the family was going into the drawing-room to read family prayers, the servants went in after him, a goodly number neatly dressed, just as in any orderly English family of high rank, and we were asked to wait in an adjoining room, until the service was over and the family had retired to the breakfast-room, in order to show us some paintings of note in the grand drawing- room. It v/as more interesting than the pictures to see this magni- ficent apartment, although gilded, curtained, chandeliered, and ornamented with a costliness suitable for the residence of a crowned head, yet comfortably as well as splendidly furnished, with a carpet fully covering the floor,a blazing fire in the chimney, tables covered with books, ladies' Avork in baskets and work-bags, scattered about the room, and with a home look of daily use and domestic enjoj^- ment about everything, which resembled the taste of English life. Many of the old wealthy mercantile nobility have apparently fallen from their high estate, and, in the course of ages, have been ex- tinguished, or become impoverished; for vast edifices — in fact, • costly palaces — are occupied by innkeepers and others, who could never have built them for the uses they are now put to : but evi- dently a class of very great capitalists remains. They, with a very great body of destitute people, and the military, civil func- tionaries, clergy, and the small dealers and tradesmen living by NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 347 their expenditure, now constitute the population of this once powerful republic. May not the history of Genoa's connmercial greatness and de- cline become, in the course of ages, that of England's? May not the one show in small, what the other will come to in large? Is not the same element of decay common to the social economy of both ? It is in the nature of trade and manufacture, that great capital drives small capital out of the field ; it can afford to work for smaller returns. There is a natural tendency in trade to mo- nopoly, by the accumulation of great wealth in few hands. It is not impossible that in every branch of trade and manufacture in Britain, the great capitalist will, in time, entirely occupy the field, and put down small capitalists in the same lines of busi- ness; that a moneyed aristocracy, similar to that here in Genoa, will gradually be formed, the middle class of small capitalists in trade and manufacture become gradually extinguished, and a structure of society gradually arise, in which lords and labourers will be the only classes or gradations in the commercial and manufacturing, as in the landed system. An approximation, a tendency towards this state, is going on in England. In many branches of industry, — for instance, in glass-making, iron-found- ing, soap -making, cotton-spinning, — the great capitalists engaged in them have, by the natural effect of working with great capital, driven small capitals out of the field, and formed a kind of ex- clusive family property of some of these branches of manufacture. Government, by excessive taxation and excise regulation, both of which have ultimately the effect, as in the glass and soap ma- nufacture and distillery business, of giving a monopoly to the great capitalist who can afford the delay and advance of money these impediments require, has been hitherto aiding, rather than counteracting, this tendency of great capital to swallow all the employments in which small capital can act. It is a question practically undetermined, whether the experiment into which this tendency has forced society within these few years, the junc- tion of small capitalists in joint-stock, subscription, or share com- panies, can compete in productive industry with great capital in the hands of one or two partners wielding great means with the energy, activity, and frugality of an individual. It is not an ima- ginary, nor perhaps a very distant evil, that our middle classes with their small capitals may sink into nothing, may become, as 348 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. here, tradesmen or small dealers supplying a few great manufac- turing and commercial families with the articles of their house- hold consumpt, or supernumerary candidates for unnecessary public functions, civil, military, or clerical ; and that in trade, as in land, a noblesse of capitalists, and a population of serfs work- ing for them, may come to be the two main constituent parts in our social structure. ' A Genoa in large England may possibly become — with one small class living in almost royal splendour and luxury ; and the freat mass of the community in rags and hunger. I went to see the poor-house in Genoa, a vast ancient palace, in which about 1800 poor are kept upon the principle of making them work for their living. Work, or material of various kinds suited to the trade or ability of the pauper, is given out to each, and, when finished, it is sold or valued, the cost of the material and of the rations of food or other necessaries supplied to the pauper while producing it, deducted, and the balance paid to him in money. Rational as this principle of relief appears to be, I am in doubt whether it answers well, or rather in no doubt that it answers ill. In the small population of a town the effects may be more distinctly traced than in an extensive national system upon the same principle ; but the effects must be the same. The kinds of employment given to the pauper are necessarily those which the poor usually live by, and which require few, and not expensive tools, and are easily acquired and exercised ; such as coarse weaving, rope-making, ordinary joiner-work, shoemaking, tailoring of slop clothes, &c. Among 80,000 people in a town, the work of 1800 working in a poor-house, or as out-door pau- pers, at the common trades of the poorer class, displaces exactly so much of the work of the latter, makes them poorer — is robbing Peter to pay Paul. The poor artisan whose market is anticipated and overstocked by a forced production from the poor-house, and at a cheaper rate than he who has to buy the material by retail can afford to produce the article, must go to the poor-house himself. This is clearly the effect, in the great as in the small, of applying public or subscribed capital to pauperism, in a way that interferes with any branch of industry in which the poor usually employ their own time and labour to keep them out of pauperism. If this be true, the only kind of industry which is suitable either for pauper or penal employment in a community, is that which inter- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 349 feres with the means of living of no other class in the community : and that is only labour applied to the direct production of the pau- per or penal labourer's own food and necessaries, as in the poor colonies in Holland, either in husbandry, fisiiery, or work con- nected with what they themselves consume. When we reflect on the former greatness and the present decay of this once powerful state, how important the lesson it teaches ! not the common-place lesson only of the instability of human greatness — but that the misapplication of capital, or rather of human industry — for capital is the command of human labour and time, embodied in the form of money — is the cause of the instability of greatness in empires as in individuals. Look at this city of Genoa! at the millions upon millions that have been ex- pended unreproductively ! The loom, the ship, the steam-engine, the factory, reproduce their own cost with a profit, and the whole is laid out, again and again, and to the latest generation, repro- ductively; but the palace, the gorgeous ornament, the pageant, the display of pomp and power in fleets and armies and courtly splendour, reproduce nothing. The labourer earns his needful food during the time he is employed in producing them; that done, he is no richer than at first, and the means of his employer to re-employ him, the capital which, laid out in a reproductive way, would have gone on to all posterity, augmenting and ex- tending employment, well-being, and civilization, is fixed down, and buried in a pile of stones. The labourers of the day earned their wages for piling them together, consumed and paid for their meat and drink during the time, and that is all the result of the outlay of capital, which, if the Genoese nobles had employed it reproductively in manufacturing or transporting the objects of civilized life for the consumers instead of in building huge palaces, would have vivified the East. Capital is a bank-note for so much human labour. If its value is not reproduced by its outlay, the holder of it is wasting his means, and the industrious of the coun- try suffer a loss. I mourn not for Genoa. Distant countries conquered, plun- dered, oppressed, reduced to subjection and barbarism, to enable a wealthy and ostentatious aristocracy to vie with each other in splendid extravagance — the middle class extinguished — the useful arts and manufactures, those which diffuse comfort and civiliza- tion through society, and extend by their productive action the 350 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. sphere of human industry, postponed to the ornamental, to those which administer only to the kixurious enjoyment of the few, and add httle or nothing to the means of Hving, well-being, and industry of the many — in the downfall of such a state — of a peo- ple of princes and beggars — what is there to regret? Lord Cas- tlereagh need not turn him in his grave, if the annihilation of the Genoese aristocracy as a state be the greatest of his diplomatic sins. CHAPTER XVII. NOTES ON NAPLES — SCENERY. — VESUVIUS.— POMPEII. — NEAPOLITAN PEOPLE.— CAUSES OF THEIR LOW CONDITION. The Bay of Naples will not disappoint the expectation of the most imaginative of the tribe of wanderers. Distant raonntain, peaks tipped with snow rising in the clear intensely blue sky, are encircled by the deep green forests, below which bright pasture and grass fields join to a rich network over the face of the country of vineyards, orchards, olive and orange groves, hamlets, towns, villas, terraces, white walls, and a dazzling confusion of the works of nature and of man. This splendid hill-skirting termi- nates in sea-cliffs, some black, some yellow, some bare, some bending over the waves under the tangled luxuriance of southern vegetation. High over all, the graceful outline of Vesuvius loses itself in the column of smoke«which rises, and spreads in the heavens, concentrating the innumerable details of the vast scene into one harmonious glorious whole. But this magnificence of nature must be seen : it cannot be described. It is seen to most advantage from the sea. On shore you want a suitable fore- ground. You are shut in between white walls on a dusty road, or stand upon terraces with vineyards and orchards, row behind row, all around you; and although these may please at a great distance, they have but a patchy, dotty cfl'ect near the eye, as the foreground of scenery. The poet-painter would scarcely select such objects for the foreground of his landscape. They are too artificial. The great clearness of the Italian atmosphere, the absence of mist, vapour, or exhalation partially hiding, partially showing distant objects, and thus giving the mind play upon them, is also against the picturesque efloct of this scenery in general. All is distinctly seen. There is no delusion, or rather there is the delusion that distances appear smaller, and elevations lower than they actually arc. In our northern scenery, from the 352 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. vapour in the atmosphere, the refraction of the rays from a dis- tant mountain makes it visually, and to the sense of sight posi- tively, higher than the actual measurement confirms : and where mist and cloud partially hide the mountain, there is a mental refraction magnifying the unseen, as well as a visual refraction enlarging the seen. It is this difference of the medium through which a country is viewed, and which in our cloudy atmosphere brings our own imaginations to act on objects of mountain scene- ry, that makes the traveller from the north doubt whether the mountains he sees so clearly and minutely in the south are really so much higher than those he has been accustomed to see half hid in mist and vapour. Vesuvius is an isolated mountain about three miles from the sea, of an elevation of 3,792 feet. An American would call it an elegant mountain, and no English word can better express its character, so graceful are the flowing outlines of its slopes from the base to the summit, on every side. Vesuvius has been pro- digiously higher than it now is, for the Monte Somma, a peak about 800 yards north of the present cone, and Ottaiana on the south, are apparently peaks remaining of the circumference of the base of some vast ancient cone. These three remaining peaks, of which Monte Somma is the highest, belong to one mountain- base, although divided above by chasms of the vast extinct crater, and, by ravines below, and the whole mountain-mass is a single independent elevation on a vast plain, and unconnected with the Apennines, To ascend Vesuvius is no very difficult feat. The stranger is beset with guides waiting at Portici with their mules and asses, and, like watermen at the Tower stairs, clamorous for a fare, and so violent in their gesticulations, that the traveller might suppose they were going to roast him at the volcano, and were quarreling about their shares of the meat. But it is the custom of these people to scream at the top of their voices in ordinary conversation, and to use their hands and arms, as well as their tongues, as explanatory organs. In fact no guide is ne- cessary, there being a regular foot-path, and the shape of the ground, to lead any one accustomed to hills, and the foot-path is well frequented at all hours. You ride up to the hermitage, a house of two stories high like an old Highland manse, about half way up, or about an hour and a quarter's walk from the beginning of the ascent. It is situated on the dividing ridge between the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 353 ravine through which the lava of the ancient crater of Monte Somma has flowed, and that through which the lava of the pre- sent crater, in its recent eruptions, has partly taken its course. It is a ridge formed apparently by the deposition of stones and ashes from the volcano, upon a natural feature of the ground rock of the mountain. The hermitage is at the end of the cultivated ground on the side of Vesuvius. Above it, all is lava or scoriae, and some of this rubbish was still so hot that lava ejected eight months before ignited dry leaves thrust into its crevices. At this hermitage you may get hermit's fare for your money, a bottle of good wine and an omelette : and ladies are carried to the summit from hence in about an hour and a half, in a sort of sedan-chair, with about as much fatigue and danger, as in being sedanned on a frosty night from the lowest to the highest of the fashionable streets of the city of Bath. Is there any reason for supposing that the fire-seat, the focus of this volcano, is situated far below the level of the plain on which the mountain stands, and is not contained altogether, or principally, within the walls of the mountain itself? Travellers and geologists are very apt to run poetical, when they fall in with burning mountains. They tell us that this and the other great volcanoes of the world are vents of a great central fire in the interior of our globe. How does this vast central fire burn with- out known communications with atmospheric air or water ? At what depth below the crust of the earth is it in activity ? In the last eruption of Vesuvius in 1S39, the elevation in the air to which luminous matter, stones or ashes were thrown, was esti- mated or guessed by intelligent observers to be about one half of the apparent height of the mountain. In the great eruption of the 8th of August, 1779, the height of the column of flame, or ignited matter, was estimated at one and a half the height of the mountain, or 1800 yards : and Sir William Hamilton even reckons it to have been 3,600 yards, or above two miles high. Stones, as large as hogsheads, are stated by the Abbe de la Torre to have been projected to the elevation of 400 yards. In 1775, a mass of lava of 120 cubic feet is stated by De Bottis to have been pro- jected to an elevation from which he reckoned the descent to have occupied nine seconds of time. This fact would also give an elevation of about 400 yards. Now the projecting force cannot have been working at any immense distance below, such as the 354 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. semi-diameter of the earth, nor at any considerable portion of it, because gravity and atmospheric resistance would oppose the elevation of huge masses of stone through such a space. No solid masses of matter, such as stones, rocks, lava, could be pro- jected entire and compact, against the column of air through such a distance ; but would come to the surface of the earth from such a depth, be the crust over this central focus ever so thin, in a liquid or gaseous state. The points of ejection, also, the vents of a cen- tral fire action, would naturally be always and invariably in the points of least resistance ; that is, in the lowest plains, not in the points of greatest resistance, the summits of high and weighty mountains resting on the plains. The prodigious power of vol- canic agency on and above the surface of the earth, is the strongest proof that the focus of that power is at no immense distance be- low its visible energy. The supposed communications between Vesuvius and Etna, Stromboli, Hecla, or even the Solfaterra, are not supported by historical facts of any correspondence between their eruptions. The communication even of this volcanic focus with the sea, at three miles' distance, is very doubtful, and rests only upon the ejection of torrents of water in one or two of the recorded eruptions : but besides the explanation of rain-water accumulating in the hollow of the crater, and at one period form- ing in it a small pond or lake, the gases evolved in the combustion within the crater might, by their combination in the air, produce water. Water from the sea passing through such a focus of lire, would undoubtedly be ejected in a gaseous state. The most instructive appearance to the traveller who carries the ordinary smattering of geological theory with him is, that the ashes, cinders, dust, stones, whether, loose, or indurated and ce- mented by pressure, heat, or other causes, into tufa rock more or less compact — in short, all ejected matter from the volcano that is not ejected in a liquid state like lava, is deposited in a distinct order or stratification. The larger particles are in one regular bed, above which is another bed of finer, above that another and an- other of finer and finer particles, each bed lying with a certain character of regularity above the other, as in water depositions; and then comes another bed or layer of rougher, larger particles, and a similar gradation of finer regularly above it. Where the tufa rock is laid bare in section, as by the road leading to the her- mitage, and also in the rocks about Naples, and in the excavations NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ' 355 at Pompeii, this stratified tendency of the ejected matter is to be seen. When the matter— dust, ashes, fine particles, stones — is ejected, the densest falls first to the ground, is the first deposited from tire atmosphere, exactly as if water instead of air had been the medium in which the particles had been suspended.* Then follow bed after bed, each in succession, according to the size or gravity of its particles. A new ejection of the same eruption follows with the same succession from coarse to fine particles, deposited upon the former deposition. If this tendency to strati- fication in the ejected matter of volcanic agency be confirmed by more extensive observation, it would explain in a satisfactory way many puzzling geological appearances — such as tlie stratified formation of rocks composed of crystalline or chemically aggre- gated particles, the veins or bands of rough pebbles in old red sandstone, the stripes alternating in almost all rocks. If geologists exclude all regularity from volcanic agency, and confine stratifi- cation to aqueous deposition, how many deluges must they take to account for a striped pebble, or a sandstone with bands or beds running through it at every three or four inches, or lamcllated structure of any kind? And how would they account for the formation of gneiss with its character of regularity in the arrange- ment of its particles ? The striated arrangement of its constituent particles, and the lamellated structure and stratified formation of rock of crystalline or chemically aggregated particles, may all be explained without the clumsy supposition of some unknown fluid in which these particles were suspended, and from which they were mechanically deposited, by taking them as they naturally lie after being ejected by a volcano and deposited in succession ac- cording to their gravity, and supposing them welded or partly fused together by the continuance or renewal of the heat. The air as well as water has been a medium in forming the mechanically deposited stratified rocks, and it is instructive to sec, from what goes on at eruptions of this volcano, that many appearances * Goethe in his observations, dated Cth Marcli, 1787, on Vesusiiis in a stale of eruption, says, that the heavy pieces of rock fell first and rolled down the cone with a deadening noise; the smaller stones fell pattering afterwards, and then the shower of ashes rushed down ; and that this was by regular pauses, which could even be measured by counting in the intervals between each shower. — Goethe's Ualidnishc licise. 356 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ascribed to aqueous belong in reality also to volcanic agency, and may be simply explained by similar processes going on here ac- cording to the usual law of gravity. Pompeii, the victim of the mountain, loses much of its. interest from the removal to the museum at Naples of every article that could be removed. All the ancient utensils, household goods, and personal ornaments of the inhabitants, had an interest upon the very spot where they were last used and handled by their owners eighteen centuries ago, which is lost under glass cases, in modern show-rooms, with a prattling cicerone in black silk name-me-nots showing them off. What remains at Pompeii are pillars of brick stuccoed over, walls stuccoed, and embellished with some rude paintings and ornaments in fresco on the plaster, done mostly with red ochre, and some mosaic or tesselated work in marble on the floor, representing, in black and white inlaid stones, ill-drawn figures of animals, and such ornaments. The interior arrangement of the houses is more interesting than any thing remaining in situ at Pompeii. It gives us some idea of the amount, or rather of the want of physical civilization, of domestic comfort, and of luxury in the ordinary dwellings of the ancients. The streets of Pompeii have been narrow lanes, ill paved and ill kept, the ruts worn by the cart wheels in the bare rock appearing in the street ; and from these ruts being single, it is to be pre- sumed that there was little continuous traffic of carts in opposite directions, no lines of going and coming carts ; but, as is the case now in small Italian towns, the carts have come in from the country in the morning, and gone out in the evening in the same ruts in which they arrived. The houses have been generally low without upstair rooms, and constructed generally on one plan. An outside wall encloses a square or oblong space, and except the street door, is without opening to the outside for light or air. The roof has run with a slight slope from this out- side dead wall to an inner wall parallel to it, which determined the breadth of the apartments. A row of pillars connected with each other by round arches, or by beams within this inner wall all round the open space, has supported the extremity of the roof on every side of the square open court, and has furnished a covered colonnade all round it. In the centre of this open court, which is in the best houses paved with marble in ornamental figures, has been a fountain, cistern, or receptacle for the rain NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 357 water from the roofs ; and this open court appears to have been the drawing-room of the mansion, or its equivalent. The doors and windows of all the rooms have opened into 'tlie colonnade. The rooms are very small, about ten or twelve feet square, and have been dark and ill ventilated, the windows, small openings, in general without glass, and for sake of shelter made in the inside wall under the roof of the colonnade. The rooms have seldom communications with each other, but each opens into the covered gallery or colonnade. The best rooms are very small, have never been lined with wood, but merely plastered, and a rude ornament in ochre or red lead delineated on the plaster. Under this square of dwelling rooms has been a sunk floor, or square of vaults for cellars, and for lotlging the slaves. In one of these was found the skeleton of a slave, who has had a bell fast- ened round his neck, as we put a bell on a cow or sheep. In none of these mansions, which, with masters and slaves, must have been very close, crowded, and inconvenient, is there any appear- ance of an outhouse, yard, privy, or detached building of any kind. The rooms have been merely used to retire to at night or in bad weather; and the open court in the centre, the covered colonnade running round it, and the bath-room, have been the living places by day. A basking, Lazaroni, out-of-door life has been then, as now, the way of living in this part of Italy. The two distinct theatres, one for comedy and one for tragedy, and the amphitheatre with its seats for the different classes of spectators, its dens for the wild beasts, its issues for them, and for the prisoners condemned to be their victims — often prisoners of war, not criminals— are the most interesting remains of public structures in Pompeii. What a singular state of barbaric civili- zation ! The whole population of a little town of six or eight thousand inhabitants, even the female sex, the vestals, specta- tors of such scenes of carnage ! All classes delighting in combats which have not had even the excitement of an equality between the parties, or of a doubtful issue, or of the possibility of the escape of the human combatant ! The sheer lust of blood-and- torturc spectacle has been the only gratification of this refined people ! The scholarship of eighteen centuries has been extoll- ing Roman virtue, Roman civilization, Roman arts, arms, and institutions, until men arc almost afraid to express the opinion, that the fine arts, sculpture, architecture, poetry, oratory, and all 358 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the rest of them, have been vastly over-rated as indications, or means of civilization. The Romans, with all these, were in a more uncivilized social condition, had more of the tastes and habits of savage life in their highest and most refined period, than the inhabitants of New Zealand or of the Sandwich Islands, when We first discovered them. King Tommaha or Prince Pom- maree was, in reality, much less of a savage than Julius Cajsar, or Augustus. Naples is a wonderful den of human animals. Beggars, thieves, and idlers are lounging at every corner: ladies, monks and military fill the streets. Where is the industry, or what the means and capital, that keeps this mass in life and movement ? It must be the concentration and expenditure of almost all the incomes and revenues of the kingdom, in this one spot, by no- bility, churchmen, and military. The bustle and hubbub in the Strada de Toledo is as great as in the most crowded street of London ; but if you mark the stream of people, you see the crowd here consists of idlers hanging about, not of passengers hastening silently through on their affairs. All are talking at once at the highest pitch of their voices, and hands and arms are going as violently as tongues. In the secondary and poorer streets, peo- ple squatting on the stones in the sun or shade, sleeping, eating, working, hunting for vermin in their clothes, playing a favourite game of betting on the number of fingers held up (a Roman game, micare digitis), all out of doors, and all screaming like peacocks, give no favourable impression of their social condition. It is very striking to see in this finest soil and climate of Europe, this land overflowing with the richest productions for the use of man, the peasantry and townspeople of the labouring class clothed in sheepskins with the wool on, and in all respects worse clad, more wretched, and in food, lodging, property, sense of decency in their habits and ways of living, in a lower condition than the Laplander on the Norwegian fielde. Their fine climate is their curse. Many of the wants and desires which with us are the greatest stimulants to industry, and to all the virtues that spring from industry, are of little importance here in the catalogue of human gratifications. Life may be enjoyed without them ; and therefore the industry is wanting, along with the motives. The labouring man with us, who could ask, why should I strive to get regular employment, or to earn high wages? would be deemed NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 359 insane. To buy mfeat, drink, fuel, lodging, clothing, and social respect among those of your own station, would be the reply. But in this country, the labouring man is no fool, who asks, what enjoyment or gratification can high wages gained by constant hard work give me, equal to the enjoyment of doing nothing, of bask- ing in the sun, or sleeping in the shade, doing nothing? Fuel, clothing, lodging, food, are in this climate supplied almost sponta- neously to man. Fuel to cook with is all we need of firing, and even that may be dispensed with by most working people, "for our food is sold to us ready cooked at the corner of every street. It would be waste, and no comfort in it, to light a fire in our own dwellings. Clothing we only want to cover our nakedness; a ragged cloak, or sheepskin jacket three generations old, does that. Lodging is only necessary to sleep in, and shelter us from rain. A mere shed, like a coach-house, does that. We live out of doors. Animal food is not necessary, where olive oil is so plentiful as to be used for frying all vegetable and farinaceous food, and assimi- lating it, as nutritious aliment, to flesh meat. Olive oil, wine, Indian corn, flour, legumes, fruit, are to be got in exchange for our labour at vintage and harvest, during a few weeks when these crops require a great number of hands at once. Why should we labour every day? This is the condition of all around us in our station ; why should we labour ? It is the case, that steady, regular, every-day industry is actually not required for enabling these people to satisfy the few wants which the blessings of the climate, of the soil, and of the cheap nutriment of olive oil, Indian corn, small fish, and fruits, leave them ; and they only work by fits and starts. Lazaroni is rather a character, than a class of the people, They are all Lazaroni in their social condition, in the lounging about idle, and in a state almost of nudity, when not forced by want to look for a short job, and in their out-of-door way of living. It is in the nature of the products of the climate, that the demand for labour on the land is desultory — requiring great numbers of hands for short periods; and, consequently, the payments are made in portions of the material worked upon, not in regular wages. But this material includes those necessaries of life for which, in other climes, people must labour steadily, day after day. The aniount of food here, in chestnuts, figs, fruit, legumes, cakes of Indian corn, various small fish, and in the nutriment of olive oil added to those otherwise 360 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. unsubstantial articles of diet, surpasses all we understand by abundance in the northern countries ; and all these require but very little human labour for their production. Food for the idle, that is food requiring small and irregular application only of human labour, is abundant ; and this is evident, from the way in which common work is carried on. Time and labour seem not worth saving in their estimation. The women are universally sauntering about, spinning wool or flax with the distaff and spin- dle. A woman will spin as much yarn at her spinning-wheel in an hour, as in a week with her distaff and spindle. But I doubt^ if a spinning-wheel could be found in Naples. I have seen two men carrying between them, slung upon a pole on their shoulders, a common-sized paving-stone. One of them could have trans- ported six such stones in a common wheelbarrow, with ease. Boats are manned with six or seven, or even ten men. A man and a boy, or, at the utmost, two men, would be the crew of such a craft in any other country. I have seen two asses with a driver to each, and a padrone, or overseer, on horseback to attend them, employed in trailing into town two sticks with each ass, one on each side of the saddle, and the sticks positively of a size that one of the drivers might have carried the whole four. In every job, the padrone, the helper, the looker-on, the talker, and the listener, seem indispensable personages. The division of labour may be an evil as well as a good in society. It is an evil, if the time and labour saved by it be not applied to reproduction. It is an evil among these Lazaroni. Six men doing the work of two merely multiply themselves and their idle habits by their division of labour. They do nothing with the time and labour they have gained by the division — if they have gained any by it — in their way of working. This is a point not so thoroughly considered by our political economist as it should be. The saving of time and labour by machinery, or by a division of labour, is not of itself of any value, nor is it adding to national wealth of itself, as our great political economist Adam Smith and M'Culloch teach us. It is only of value, and adding to national wealth, if the time and labour saved be employed in other production. Steam, for in- stance, applied to pumping water out of mines, to moving ma- chinery, and so on, adds to national wealth, only because the men and time employed in pumping, or in moving hand-engines, are immediately employed in other analogous productive labour. But NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 361 if they conld not be employed, if any branch of industry, as, for instance, all husbandry labour, or all shoemaking, or all tailoring, could be executed by steam machinery, the nation, the community, would be no gainer, unless the classes thrown ont of work, and idle, can be, and are employed and absorbed in some other kind of productive labour. One class only, the employers, would be gainers at the expense of another class; and unless that class can become productive in some other branch of industry, there is a loss, not a gain, to the nation even by machinery. The division of labour here is the offspring of idleness, not of industry ; and produces idleness, not industry. It is followed by no increased production. This evil, in the social condition of the people of Italy, is so closely connected with the nature of the soil and cli- mate, that it may be doubted if the inhabitants of this part of the Italian peninsula ever were in any higher state of civilization than they are in at this day. What were the inhabitants of Pompeii, but a population of slaves cultivating the earth in chains, of Laza- roni basking in the sun, and of public functionaries and patricians of enormous wealth, to whom the Lazaroni were so formidable that it was necessary to feed them, and keep them in amusement and excitement by such shows and bloody spectacles as suited their half savage state? The mass of the people then, as now, have had no wants but those which the soil, with desultory labour, could supply — no civilizing desires for comforts and en- joyments which industry only produces. It is characteristic here of the social condition, that all trades- men's work — shoemakers', tinsmiths', coppersmiths' work — is carried on out of doors, in the open air, amidst the gossip and bustle of the street passengers ; and all domestic business is done on the pavement, or in cellars, or vaults of coach-house-like dwellings, with a side open to the street, leaving the whole in- terior of their households exposed to view, and only shut in at night or in rainy weather, there being no windows to these dens. The sense or feeling of domestic privacy, or the tastes, civilized habits, and virtues connected with this feeling, cannot exist, where the whole family are separated from the view of the passengers in the streets, even when in bed, only by a bit of mat hung up for the occasion. Whoever considers well the causes which act on the social state of the Irish or Neapolitan, and the Swiss or Frencli people in the same station of life, will find that the lodging of a 24 362 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. population, the ordinary standard of house accommodation for the families of the lowest class, is very closely connected with their moral condition. The first step, perhaps, towards the im- buing the Irish people with the peaceful habits they are accused of wanting, would be giving them timber free of duty, for build- ing their dwellings on a civilized standard of accommodation. The soil and climate which produce industry produce the real crop on which man lives in well-being, civilization and comfort — and not the soil and climate which produce the objects of in- dustry : and viewing the world in large, industry will be found to thrive in every country almost in the inverse ratio to the value and amount of its natural productions. This is a just balance made by Providence in the lot of man. With their crops of wine, oil, silk, grain of every kind, and endless succession of fruits and of vegetable food, with their perpetual fine weather and easy Ufe, what is the condition, produced by these very advantages, of the inhabitants of this earthly paradise ? The poorest cotter on the poorest hill-side on the north of Scotland is a decently clothed, decently brought-up, intellectual man, with habits and ideas of a civilized being, compared to the half-naked, filthy, half-savage human animal wallowing in a sheepskin with the wool on, and a tattered brown cloak as his only body covering, upon the marble steps of the palaces and churches of Italy. The soil and climate are not more superior in the neighbourhood of Naples to the soil and climate of the north of Europe than the social and moral con- dition of the people is inferior. But moral causes, as well as physical, have their part in this low social condition of the people of Naples. The population is reckoned about 338,000 souls. It is a city, therefore, about one-third more populous than Glasgow. Here we see strikingly the social effects of functionarism in with- drawing from the paths of industry the class who should be dif- fusing employment in the useful arts among the labouring classes around them. In Naples there are 4,632 secular clergy. If to these we add the monastic clergy of 1,960 monks, and the nuns, who are 717 in number, we have in all 7,809 persons withdrawn from the pursuits of industry, and earning social influence and all that men strive to obtain by industry, in other employments than the useful arts. We see here, in its extreme, the working of a forced church extension, of a numerous establishment of clergy in a community. The effects will be proportionably the same NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 363 whatsoever be the reUgion; the same proportionably in Presbyte- rian Glasgow as in Catholic Naples, if the clerical body were in- creased upon the principle of what governments and clergy may think requisite for a people, instead of upon the principle that the people themselves will provide for their own religious instruction according to their wants, and recipient capability of using it. Carry the clerical establishment of Glasgow to 4,873 persons, which would be in proportion to that of Naples — if that number would satisfy our admirers of church extension — abstract this number from the pursuits of productive industry — and Glasgow would be another Naples. This Naples is the St. Giles's of Europe. I would advise the first pedler who travels this road to bring in his pack a goodly assortment of small-toothed combs — not that the natives are civil- ized enough to need such machinery — they use more summary measures, and you see them sitting all of a row before their doors with their heads in each other's laps in turns, and searching for — animated ideas ; — but for the benefit of the English ladies who may visit Naples, A man impregnates his skin with the effluvia of tobacco and wine, and offers no such tempting pasture to the herds and flocks of his Neapolitan majesty ; but a delicate English lady, in all her cleanliness and loveliness, swarming, as she must be — whew ! The English lady, in fact, must leave all her delicacy at home, and all her blushes, unless a small travelling assortment, if she intends to reside among this more than half-naked, and all alive people. The country about Naples may be an earthly paradise : but it is paradise after the fall, given up to the serpent for an habitation. CHAPTER XVIir. TRAVELLING IN ITALY.— VETTURINL— CAPUA.— TERRACINA.— PONTINE MARSHES.— MAREMMA.— THE APPROACH TO ROME.— COLISEUM. There are three ways of travelling in Italy. One is to travel post, carrying all England along with you in your own English travelling carriage. With English books, English servants, English habits, and a foreign courier to cheat him, the English traveller may get over a good deal of country, and a good deal of money in this way, without the trouble of taking in any more ideas, or loading the memory with any more weighty matters than in seeing a diorama passing before his eyes. Another way is to travel in your own foreign carriage with hired horses with which the vetturino drives you to your journey's end, at the rate of five-and-twenty or thirty miles a day. There is often the in- convenience attending this way, that asthe driver, at the end of his engagement, may have to ride his horses back without any return fare, which he would have if the carriage as well as the horses belonged to him, you are not much cheaper, and are vastly slower in your movements, than with post horses: and the owner, or vetturino, will scarcely come himself to ride back with his horses if he can put off any lad upon you to do the job. The third, and ordinary way of travelling for all ranks in the country, is by a voiturin, or vetturino, who has his own carriage and horses. They are a class of coach proprietors, many of them in- telligent, respectable men, who drive a light carriage of their own that will hold four inside and two outside passengers, and with a pair of gaunt, bony horses. You engage the number of places you want, and the vetturino visits all the inns to find other tra- vellers going the same road to fill up the empty places. There is, of course, considerable difference in the rates paid, even in the same carriage, for the same distance, as the vetturino will take any fare at last rather than none. It is necessary, also, to have a NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 365 regular contract in writing, and to insure it by taking an earnest upon it — a piece of money from the vetturiuo, which is returned to him when he is fairly on the road ; for in Italy it appears to be the principle in all dealings between man and man — impose if you can. The average expense, travelling in this way, is about 16.?. sterling a day for each passenger : but this includes your living on the road, that is, a dinner-breakfast — dinner as to the fare, but breakfast as to the hour, about ten or eleven — a good supper at eight or nine in the evening, and your bed. The vet- turino always engages for the living, and the traveller is much better served, and more cheaply, than if he paid for himself. The vetturini form a class all over the Continent, known to each other, and have the innkeepers at their command, because the inn which had the reputation of serving their passengers ill might as well be shut up. An English family travelling in their own carriage with four post horses would not get the best beds or the best fare at every Italian inn, if a known vetturino with his passengers came to the door at the same moment. The ordinary way of their travelling is, to start at four in the morning, and stop at nine or ten. They start again at two and travel till six or seven, and in this way get on for weeks together, at the rate of thirty miles a day. The old-fashioned arrangement of the vetturino undertaking for the lodging and feeding, as well as for the transporting of his passengers, is not, as our English tourists imagine, devised for the sake of saving them from being imposed upon by Italian inn- keepers. It is a remnant of ancient manners from the ages of pilgrimages and crusaders, when bands of pious passengers from all parts of Christendom contracted with conductors to lead them to Rome, and purvey for them out and home. It is at this day the best way for the traveller to see a foreign country. It takes him as fast over it as he can go, with the advantage of seeing what is remarkable, and brings him into contact with people of the country, and travellers of all kinds and classes. We set out early in the morning from Naples by vetturino, and got to Mola de Gaeta for the first night's quarters, stopping in the forenoon, for a few hours, at Capua. The road to Capua is over a highly cultivated fertile plain. The most fertile land in Europe is probably hereabouts, in the plain watered by the Vul- turno, because, with the finest climate for vegetable production, the soil is a deep black, alluvial, garden mould, which, in any 366 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. climate, would be rich land ; and from its flat surface, and low level, it retains the necessary moisture, or receives it easily by irrigation. The gods, says Polybius, might dispute the possession of such a delicious plain as that of Capua. Yet in this earthly paradise, the people are not merely in rags and wretchedness ; it is difficult even to conceive humanity in so low a condition as you see it in here. In the streets of Capua, you see animals which you can scarcely acknowledge to be human beings. The Esquimaux has a covering for his body, which, even in his rude state, shows a sense of decency, as well as the mere feeling of cold — a sense of ornament even may be traced in his seal-skin garment. But here the sense of decency, even in the female animal of the human species, is apparently little higher than among the irrational creatures. How low bad government may reduce the civilization of a country is impressively brought out here. Come to Capua, all ye conservatives of existing institutions, all ye defenders of things as they are, all ye good, pious, moral gentlemen of England, who look with aversion on every reform, with horror on every social change, come to Capua, and see the working of your principle of conservatism. It is not the wish certainly of the Neapolitan government to have its subjects in a low and miserable condition : but it is the fear of change, our own principle of conservatism — which shuns all improvement ; and where society is not improving, it is retrograding. There is no stand-still in human aff'airs. From Mola de Gaeta, where a branch of low hills from the Apennine chain approaches the coast, we travelled next day to Terracina, passing through the beautiful scenery around the httle towns of Ilri and Fondi. Fondi is more celebrated for the attempt, in 1534, of Hayraddin Barbarossa with a Turkish squadron, to carry off, for the seraglio, the beautiful Countess Julia de Gonzagua, than for the eloquence or logic of Thomas d'Aquinas. Yet here he taught theology. He was a great man in his day, and for generations after his day:— for ideas never die, and his may still be influencing theological and metaphysical science. In this Italian atmosphere, there is a transparency in the shadows seldom seen in our climate in our rural scenery. With us, all that is in shade is indistinctly made out. The shadows in our land- scape paintings, and drawings, are often laid in muddy, because, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 367 in fact, they often are so in nature — and it is not every painter wiio is a poet of the brush ; who can select, and avoid or take what nature offers. Copying nature hteratini is not painting well. Here objects, even in the deepest shadow of a mountain, are very distinct, both in outhne and colour, although kept down, and sub- dued by the general shade : and this atmospheric peculiarity in the real scenery of Italy gives a peculiar character to the paint- ings of it, a something different from the way in which the artists of other countries would conceive and express the same objects under the same circumstances. In strolling about Terracina, in defiance of malaria, which has its head quarters here, I came upon a little watermill with a per- pendicular shaft turned round by the rill of water striking upon vanes inserted obliquely in it to receive the impulse — the mill of the Scandinavian peasant, and still found in the Shetland islands, and some of the Hebrides. How very Uttle progress iiad been made by the ancients in the useful arts, at the time when many of the fine arts were carried to great perfection ! A good mill is a machine which, if it ever had existed in a country, could never have been lost as an invention. The Romans have ground their corn in hand, or cattle mills, or mills worked by slave labour, or in such rude machines as this watermill, at a time when, in archi- tecture and sculpture, they had made a progress not yet equaled. Cicero's bread was made of flour ground in such a rude imperfect machine ! They had neither shoes to their feet nor shirts to their backs when, to please the eye, they had statues and magnificent buildings which are still the admiration of the world. The wool- len tunic next the skin worn while it lasted, the woollen toga coarse and heavy as a horse-rug, and the raw wool much less perfectly cleaned of its animal oil than a horse-rug, must have rendered the windward side of the Roman gentleman, with all his luxury, considerably the most agreeable on a sunshine day. On leaving Terracina, we come upon the Pontine marshes. The Roman Maremma, or Campagna, extends from the frontier of Tuscany to the Neapolitan frontier, and from the foot of the Apennines to the Mediterranean. This tract, including in its widest scope Rome itself, is all more or less unhealthy, or subject to malaria, but is not all marshy. The greater part, on the con- trary, is a flat, dry, pasture land, with too little rather than loo much moisture, the ditches holding no water from waul of a 368 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. retentive subsoil, and the ponds and watering places for cattle artificial. The Pontine marshes, included in this Maremma, begin here at Terracina, and occupy an area of about eight leagues in length along the coast, by about two in breadth ; and are so in- undated that they cannot be cultivated or inhabited. The whole marshy surface in this state has been estimated at about 56,000 English acres. On the south, this marsh is bounded by the sea, or by salt water lagunes ; on the east, by the high grounds and shore at Terracina ; on the north, by the high grounds about Velletri ; and on the west, by the plains of Cisterno. This marsh is formed by the rivers Araasino,Uifente, Cavatella, Tippin, Ninfo, and other mountain streams, which are the drainage of a large amphitheatre of country, but have no sufficient outlet, nor suffi- cient descent to carry off the waters they bring down. In the time of the Romans great works — among others the canal by which Horace travelled, and the Appian way itself,— were con- structed for draining, and giving access to this tract ; and although it was so far rendered habitable that Pliny says there were three- and-twenty towns in or round this district, the same author still speaks of it as a lake, or marsh, of which the exhalations were considered noxious as far as Rome. The draining of this marsh has often been attempted, and abandoned, in later times. The blame of the unsuccessful attempts at drainage is always thrown by travellers upon the papal government. Bad enough the go- vernment may be, and like all governments, good or bad, it must put up with more than its own fair share of blame for all that does not succeed : but the popes in reality have not been so very inert in attempting to recover this land. Martin V, in the beginning of the 15th century, constructed a drain, the Rio Martino, on such a scale that it has been sometimes ascribed to the ancient Romans. His death, in 1431, interrupted this work; but in each succeeding century, in almost each pontificate,considerable efforts at drainage have been made. But to drain an extensive area of flooded marsh land on a level with the sea, or with very little fall, and receiving the water of a very extensive amphitheatre of high grounds, and hills, without any lower level to drain it off into, would puzzle the most Protestant of governments. The Mediterranean Sea, be it remembered, has no rise and fall, no ebb tide giving a drainage of several feet of level for half of the twenty-four hours, as on our no-popery shores of Kent, Lincolnshire, or Holland. After lead- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 369 ing the inland waters by canals to the sea-side, there is, after all, no outlet or escape for them. This impediment to drainage on all the coasts of the Mediterranean is insurmountable, and from cen- tury to century is necessarily increasing. Land is forming, and gaining upon the sea, by the diluvium of the rivers, and the accu- mulation of vegetable matter on it ; but such low tracts never can have been healthy, never can be made so, and must every century, as the marshy surface extends itself, be growing less and less habitable. True it is these tracts are studded thickly' with shape- less masses of ruined habitations, wljich show that the Maremma, at least, if not the marsh itself, has been inhabited densely in the time of the Romans. But the agricultural population of the ancient Roman territory were slaves working in chains under a few freedmen as slave drivers, or factors, and were in reality in no higher condition than the oxen, or husbandry horses of the present day. The waste of human life, in this class, was re- garded only as a matter of profit and loss. If a farm had to be stocked with slaves, the losses by fever, or malaria, was a matter of no more importance than the tear and wear of horses and cattle in any of our agricultural undertakings — a deduction merely from the gross value of the crops, to be allowed for in the cal- culation. The aqueducts, towns, arches, ruins great and small, thickly sprinkled over this waste and uninhabited Maremma, in- dicate no greater salubrity of the air in former days, but only a greater disregard of human life, nor perhaps any great resident free population. The fixed inhabitants of the whole district called Maremma do not now exceed, it is said, 16,000 souls, as, owing to the un- healthiness, or malaria, few places in it are habitable all the year round ; but from 25,000 to 30,000 people come down from the high grounds, the Abruzzi and the Sabine hills, to lay down the crops and to reap them. The unhealthiness is aggravated by this kind of migratory life of the cultivators. When there is work to be done in this flat unwholesome country, they leave the villages on the high ground to pass a few weeks or months in it ; and wood being very scarce, as the Maremma is destitute of trees, they lodge on the ground in temporary straw or reed huts, like bee- hives in shape, put up in the fields in which they are working, with a (e\v sticks or hurdles to support the straw or reeds ; and into these huts the labourer crawls at night, and in the heat of 370 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the day, and sleeps on the bare earth. Fever and ague would be inmates of such a lodging in any climate. This migratory life, also, is unfavourable to the morality, as well as to the health and industry of the people. A shifting population is always in a low moral condition, because the influence of public opinion upon private conduct is lost where the individuals are isolated, and beyond the social restraints and influences which neighbours and friends exercise over each other in a fixed state of inhabita- tion. This appears to be the great demoralizing influence in the condition of the peasantry or labouring class in this part of Italy, and the true cause of the banditti life resorted to sometimes by people who, in general, are found to be not the fixed inhabitants but the migrating wanderers about the Maremma. The little towns, also, in which the people live when not employed in the Maremma — viz., Cisterno, Gensano, Velletri, Albano, and many others— furiiish very unwholesome lodging to the lower, and even the middle classes. The inhabitants occupy ill- ventilated cellars, or coach-houses, on the grt)und floors of the better classes, or of ruinous decaying buildings not fully inhabited. A perpetual malaria must exist in these damp small dungeons with., out ventilation, light, cleanliness, or any domestic convenience. The cooking goes on just within the door, which must be left ajar for receiving light, and letting out the smoke, it being door, win- dow, and chimney, in most of the houses of the labouring class in these little towns. The beds are in the interior of the den, con- cealed by a bit of curtain, or more usually by wine casks, jars, or such household goods, piled up before them. In the far end twinkles a little lamp night and day, before a print of the Virgin. This adoption by the Romish church of the del penates of the ancients is general over Italy. Around these cellars, or ground- floor rooms, is an accumulation of old rubbish of former edifices, from which the exhalations in such a climate must be very un- wholesome. The country could never have been healthy ; and the mode of living could not be less favourable to the health of the people. From Naples to Rome you do not see one individual in a state of robust health. The whole population is of a sickly appearance, like convalescents from fever, or ague, sauntering about their hospital grounds. The land all the way from Naples to Rome is held in large estates, let out to metayer tenants who provide the labour, and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 371 the landlord the land, stock, and utensils, and the produce is divided between the parties, or it is feued in perpetuity, or for long periods, at lixed and heavy feu rents in kind. From the lit- tle improvement, or alteration for ages, in the modes of husbandry, or markets in Italy, the difference in the vahie of old feu duties and their present value, and between the produce of the same land now and formerly, is not so great as with us in Scotland. The dominium nobile, and the dominium utile, are two distinct interests in the land here as with us ; but the former has not be- come a mere illusory payment for the land compared to its present value; but is still a real rent of estates, and retaining all its original proportion to the value of the land. In all these fine southern climates, one evil peculiarly affecting the condition of the working man weighs heavily against all their advantages. It is that, in reality, there are two winters in the year for man and beast. There is not only our winter, little felt, indeed, in some particular localities, as about Naples, but still wet, occasionally cold, and of such weather that agricultural labour is interrupted from the state of the land, cattle must be tended in- doors, and in general in Italy it is very severe ; but there is an- other winter as far as regards labour, a summer-winter, in which, for three or four months, all out-door work of man and beast is suspended by heat, and much more interrupted than it ever is by- cold in our climate. All cattle must be provided for in-doors, as in winter. Fodder must be cut and water carried to them. From extreme cold, man and beast have a relief in hard work; but from overwhelming heat there is no relief but bodily inaction. All water power, as well as animal power, is interrupted by it, and many arts and manufactures cannot, evidently, be carried on in these southern chmates, without an enormous waste of labour and life. This summer-winter, also, is the season of malaria, pro- ducing fevers among working-people exposed to the heat and dews, far more generally, and dangerously, than epidemic diseases in our climate. From Cisterno we got to Rome easily in a day, the third from leaving Naples, stopping at Albano to breakfast. Albano stands on high ground, from which the descent into the great plain of the Campagna is very impressive. This plain of the Campagna, boundless to the eye, is without trees, or houses, or ponds, or run- ning waters, but is one vast sheet of dry, fine, pasture grass, 372 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. thickly studded with shapeless remains of buildings. The city of Rome sits by herself in the midst of this green, yet uninhabited, uncultivated, joyless desert. Rome sits here in lonely grandeur on her plain— a type of what Rome was of old in the midst of the world. The approach to Rome by this ancient Appian way has great moral grandeur. For twelve or fifteen miles, pieces of ancient pavement, ancient walls of bricks built checker-wise, shapeless ruins, masses of rubbish of considerable elevation, arches of demolished buildings, monuments with inscriptions not legible, fountains not running, and broken ranges of aqueducts for con- veying water from the hills, are scattered in all directions upon the deserted plain — deserted by man, yet covered with remains of human power, and with the habitations of an extinct popu- lation. There is no sound or sign of human industry on this lifeless sea of grass. The lark singing in the sky, and a solitary shepherd and his dog in the distant horizon, are all of living ob- jects that strike ear or eye. You reach the gate of Rome through the silence and solitude of the grave. Within, all is as silent, so- lemn, and destitute of movement as without. A clerical-looking soldier on guard, a half-asleep functionary of the custom-house, a few labourers working at remarkably slow time on the repair of the causeway, are all the concourse at the gate of the mistress of the world. You pass the gate, are within her walls, and are still in the country, with fields, gardens, and vineyards on each hand. Roads bounded by white walls on each side, a crucifix at every turn of the road, and in the distance a monk, or a beggar crossing it, are all that, for nearly a mile within this gate, remind you that here is Rome. But our road becomes a street at last, with houses, palaces, churches, ruins, temples, triumphaLarches, statues, fountains, priests, monks, soldiers, people, shops, carriages, bustle, and business. We found some difficulty in lodging ourselves, as all the^inns and lodging houses are occupied on account of the approaching holy week of Easter, which is celebrated with great pomp by the Catholic church. By going, however, a little beyond the circle within which strangers generally herd, we got very good lodging, in the Via delle Quatre Fontane, at a moderate rate of two pias- tres a day — moderate for Rome at this particular season. It is reckoned that the population of Rome is increased by 30,000 strangers generally during the holy week. This estimate is proba- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 373 biy an exaggeration in modern times, even if it include the inhabi- tants of the neighbouring towns, villages, and country— the pil- grims of a day on foot, in carts, or in chaises, who come for a forenoon, and not strictly the strangers. The number of the latter is no doubt considerable ; but the places of resort being the same for all strangers — the galleries and antiquities, and frequented at certain hours — one sees the whole body of foreigners, more than in other cities, at one time, and is apt to over-estimate their num- bers. There are few or no diligences running daily between Rome and other distant cities : and taking the steam vessels which stop at Civita Vecchia, the voiturins and the post horses at the different stations near Rome into consideration, you see no means of conveying 30,000 travellers and their luggage to and fro in any moderate space of time — nor one-tenth of that number — to the holy week. Artists, foreign clergy on business, and foreign no- bility, with a few of the English of the highest class, and a great body of English travellers of the nondescript classes, form the mass of the foreigners. English sign-boards of " Horses to Hire," "English Grocer and Tea-dealer," " Dealer in Curiosities," and so on, show that there is a perpetual stream of English running through the place. A valet-de-place, cicerone, or bear-leader, is the first of the Romans who makes his bow to you, and recommends himself as a guide to all that is remarkable in Rome, at the rate of five francs a day. He is a very useful personage at Rome, provided he is intelligent, and provided you never take him with you. If you do, you are the party fairly entitled to be paid for the day's work, for you have the fatigue of listening to a rigmarole of names and phrases that would tire the patient ear of any of his marble statues. But consult him in the morning before you sally forth, as a kind of two-legged dictionary, get all the information you can out of him about what you intend to see, and the way to it ; pluck him and leave him at home, and the goose is worth his price. The Coliseum, of all that Rome incloses, should be seen alone and by moonlight. No other human monument speaks so strongly to the moral sense of man. The deep and lonely silence of the moonlight hour within its vast walls, is broken only by the chirp- ing of the solitary cricket in the grass of that arena which has re- sounded with the shrieks of human beings, the wild yells of fero- cious beasts tearing them, and the acclamations of eighty thou- 374 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. sand spectators rejoicing in the butchery. This is the tritimph of the Christian reUgion. This immense edifice is coeval with Christianity, and is its noblest history. Eighteen centuries ago, the most civilized people on the face of the earth erected this huge pile for savage and bloody spectacles, such as no known tribe on the face of the earth at the present day is so barbarous, so desti- tute of humanity, feeling for others, and discrimination of right and wrong, as to enjoy or tolerate. The New Zealander, or the Cherokee of the present day, stands higher as a moral being im- bued with feehngs of humanity, and of duty to his fellow-men, than the citizen of ancient Rome in his most civilized state. Is this no improvement in the social condition of man ? Is man not in a progressive state as a moral and intellectual being? We may rather ask, if human nature itself has not changed during these eighteen centuries ; and if we really belong to the same species of beings as the men who, eighteen centuries ago, laid those stones upon each other for the uses for which this immense fabric was erected. These stones are still sharply square. Man has changed more than his works. How little appear all the squabbles be- tween church and church, between Catholic and Protestant, Lutheran and Presbyterian, sect and sect, opinion and opinion, when we consider this sublime result of Christianity as a whole, amidst these walls which witnessed its origin, its progress, and are now bearing testimony to its humanizing influences on the condition of man ! Details vanish before the sublime result. Time itself seems to vanish amidst the works of man standing for eighteen centuries, uninjured but by his own hands. What are eighteen centuries in the history of the human race ? — a span of time too short to reduce their buildings to dust, yet long enough to elevate their physical and m^oral condition from the deepest barbarism, ignorance, and wickedness, to civilization, knowledge, and religion ; to raise them morally and intellectually to a new species of beings. The changes of eighteen centuries are enclosed within these gray walls of the Flavian amphitheatre. The mind involuntarily runs back over the footsteps of time, to consider what other events, influential on the condition of man, these walls have witnessed. Is it an unreasonably extended view, here, amidst the remains of the power, civilization, and barbarity of man eighteen hundred years ago, to consider causes which first appeared in the world about three centuries back as only now NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 375 beginning to act powerfully and visibly in the affairs of society ? The diffusion of knowledge and mental power by the art of print- ing, of religious inquiry by the Reformation, of new and artificial tastes and wants which sprung up suddenly and simultaneously in Europe on the discovery of America and the navigation to the East, and which are now more influential among men as motives of action and industry than the natural wants connected with the support of life— for such are the acquired tastes for objects un- known in former times, as tobacco, coffee, sugar, distilled liquor, which now set in motion more of human activity than the Roman power ever wielded, or all the monarchs of Europe in the present day can command — the introduction of a new article of food in the potato, of a new clothing material in cotton, of a new power for human use in steam, are causes which, if we reflect on their obscure, and unobserved origin and first progress, and their sub- sequent vast development and influence on the human race in this age, we must regard as events in the moral world, parallel and equivalent to those deemed miraculous in the physical. These mighty causes must work out mighty effects in the social condi- tion of man. It is absurd, it is almost impious, to suppose that such moral wonders have been called into action for no purpose — and that the social arrangements constructed when these were not in existence, or only beginning to influence human affairs, can be adapted to the future social condition of man, and sliould be pressed down upon it as of fitting capacity and suitable mould. It is an error not dissimilar to that of the first Jewish converts to Christianity, who witnessed the not more astonishing miracles in the pliysical world, and supposed the effects were to be confined within the circumcision and the law. The whole of civilized so- ciety is in a state of transition. The laws, institutions, the very ideas belonging to those ages of darkness and barbarism which followed the downfall of the Roman empire, are silently but rapidly passing away, and a new state of society is forming itself. A day will arrive in the progress of the human race, when every record or trace of our existing establishments will be regarded with the same curiosity with which we now regard those of the Roman power before its decline. The feudal arrangements of society which sprung up and overspread its ruins are, in their turn, decaying and giving place to other ideas and principles; and in this slow but certain succession of one system of human affairs 376 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. to another, like the successive formations of rocks in geological science, the philosopher and the truly pious men hail in every change an evident amelioration of the moral and physical condi- tion of mankind, a wonderful advance in religion, morality, good government, and well-being; and leave to the bigots in legislation and religious forms the inconsistent and fruitless attempt to hold back this mighty movement of divine and beneficent will for the improvement of the moral and physical condition of its creatures. These walls of the Flavian amphitheatre may witness in the next eighteen centiiries — and no natural cause seems to forbid the idea of their enduring so long — changes and improvements in the state of human society, as great as those which have consigned them in our times to the lizard and the owl. CHAPTER XIX. NOTES ON ST. PETER'S.— ON ROME.— POPULATION.— POSITION.— CAUSES OF THE RISE OF ROME.— ORIGIN OF RIGHTS OF PROPERTY.— CIVILIZA- TION OF ANCIENT ROME. Great is my veneration for the opinions of all constituted authorities — from the pope's to the kirk-session officer's — from the lord of session's to the town-crier's — and doubly great for the opinions of the self-constituted authorities in the realms of litera- ture and taste. In the courts of these authorities, animosity, virulence, and bad feeling rise high, just in proportion to the smallness and unimportance of the matters in question. With fear and trembling, therefore, I venture to propound my own secret heresy in a small matter of taste, and to avow that St. Peter's, the great cathedral of St. Peter, appears to me a great architectural failure. The parts are magnificent, and the whole of no effect by reason of the magnificence of the parts. They divide the effect, distract the attention of the spectator, and prevent any adequate impression from the first view of a structure so vast as a whole. The spectator only views it piecemeal, not as one mass. We all know that St. Paul's, with its dome, could stand inside of St. Peter's ; yet the impression of St. Paul's on the spectator is so much greater, that it is with difficulty, and upon consideration and comparison only, that he admits the dimensions of the fabric, and especially of the dome, to be so greatly inferior to St. Peter's ; and he finds the dome of St. Paul's far more impressive and grand than that of St, Peter's, both in the near and in the distant view, both inside and outside. The reason I imagine to be, that the dome of St. Paul's is simple, without accompaniment ; the spectator sees it, and it alone ; and receives its full impression un- disturbed, without by any superfluity of parts, or within by any profusion of ornament. St. Peter's, again, is overloaded in the exterior by so many accompaniments of pillars, colonnades, aiul ornaments, that the mind receives no undivided impression from 25 378 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ii as a whole. The inside, with its silk hangings, brilliant paint- ings, polished marble pillars, statues, gold and silver altar orna- ments, is hke a peep into a child's penny show-box. All is tinsel and glitter; neither the eyejior the mind takes it in as a whole ; but views it|n detail, and from the multiplicity and splendour of the parts,with a kind of painful distraction. You stand under the dome of St. Paul's with an undivided feeling of awe. You cross and recross St. Peter's before you are led to look up at all, so many other objects press upon your notice ; and when you do, it is from comparison and reflection, not from immediate impression, that you arrive at the conclusion that it must be very vast and sublime ; and that you ought to feel its grandeur, but somehow you don't. An important principle in the fine arts, and in literary compo- sition, is involved in this superior effect produced by the inferior structure of St. Paul's, in consequence of the simplicity and un- obtrusiveness of its accompaniments or parts. I have read or heard somewhere that architects admit that St. /Peter's appears less than it is at first sight ; but that this is its great perfection, as this impression of its smallness is produced by the just and perfect proportion of all its parts. But, with all sub- mission to architects and artists, this is sheer jargon. Architecture, in common sculpture and painting, addresses itself to the mind through the sense of sight, and its end and object are to impress the mind with feelings of the beauty, grandeur, or sublimity of the object it produces. Now what kind of perfection of propor- tion is that by which a building fails of this object of architecture; and by which material, laboiu", and talent are expended, in order to make a building appear less, and to produce an inferior im- pression on the mind, through the sense of sight, to that which it might do ? The end and object of piling all these stones upon each other were to produce at first sight impressions of sublimity, grandeur, or beauty upon the mind of the beholders. To send them home to reflect, calculate, and compare, in order to arrive at a just impression of the magnitude and sublimity of St. Peter's, is not the object of architecture as a fine art. The same quantity of stones and human labour in any shape, would, upon consider- ation and reflection, produce this after-thought impression. To call that a just and perfect proportion which fails in the end and object of the art is the entailed nonsense of artists handed down NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 379 from one generation to another, and adopted as hereditary undeni- able axioms. In the fine arts, as in pohtics, many people can only see out of their neighbours' spectacles. Rome is not quite so populous as Edinburgh. It contains 158,678 inhabitants. About a century ago, viz., in July, 1714, the inhabitants were found to amount to 143,000; but the Jews not being human beings at that time in the estimation of the church, and who amount to 8000 or 9000, were not included in that enumeration. The number of ecclesiastics in the present population is 5267; viz., 1478 secular clergy, 2208 monks or persons belonging to monastic establishments, and 1581 nims. About a century ago, the whole ecclesiastical population was reckoned at 62S5, and 1814 nuns. The houses of the middle and lower classes are four or five stories high, containing several families under one roof, with one common entry and stairs; and the streets are narrow, dirty, and without foot pavement. The Canongate and Cowgate of Edinburgh give a good idea of the ordinary streets of Rome. Half or more of the area within the walls is not occupied with buildings, and probably never was built upon. It entered into the principle of the military fortifica- tion of cities before the invention of gunpowder to leave such a space as would protect the citizens inhabiting the centre from mis- siles, and would also furnish room and^ fodder for a day or two, for sheep or cattle driven upon an alarm within the walls. The enormous extent of walls around ancient cities, in some Eastern remains, of many leagues in circuit, is by no means an indication, as antiquarians consider it, of an enormous resident population ; but merely of the numbers of men who from without as well as from within, and from a circle possibly of several leagues from the city, could be raised to man the walls on the approach of a be- sieging army. The fortifications constructing round Paris are laid out upon this old principle. The expenditure of the large incomes of the nobility and high clergy resident in Rome, and of the revenues of the Papal Slates estimated to be about 1,800,000 pounds sterling, and of which the greater proportion is laid out in Rome itself, everything being centralized in this city, and the considerable sums, besides, ex- pended by strangers, should make Rome one of the wealthiest cities ki the world, for this expenditure among her population has been going on for ages within her walls. Yet no city, except 380 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Naples, displays so much poverty and misery, and has so many wretched idle people wandering about in it. They live each in his station, beggar or banker, thief or prince, upon this money that is passing through. They breed up to the subsistence it gives, each in his station ; are numerous enough to keep each other poor ; and they do not labour. A people are not rich by the amount of money passing through their country ; but by the amount of their own productive labour. Spain was, and Rome is, an example of the little benefit idle people derive from the mere unreproductive receipt and expenditure of money among them. They breed up to the amount, and are as poor as when the amount was small. Productive industry is the only capital which enriches a people, and spreads national prosperity and well-being. " In all labour there is profit," says Solomon. What is the science of Political Economy, but a dull sermon on this text? The seven hills of ancient Rome have been such elevations of alluvial formation as now exist on both sides of the river-valley of the Tiber a little higher up, and which on the left bank termi- nate at the Capitoline and Palatine hills. These seven hills have been eminences of from 50 to 150 feet high above the river plain; and although the ruins of buildings, and degradation of soil dur- ing so many ages must have reduced their original height, they are still very good town hills, as well marked in Rome, as Lud- gate Hill, Holborn Hill, Snow Hill, or Tower Hill in London. The houses do not entirely hide the natural features of ground. The Capitol is still a considerable eminence upon the ground plan of the city. The acccumulation of earth at the basis of these elevations has been very partial. In some places the ancient pavements, as that of the Via Sacra, are upon the present surface. In other places the soil has accumulated several feet. The correct inference perhaps should be, that the sites and ground around the ancient buildings, and the ancient streets themselves never were leveled. The natural hollows of the ground were built upon or paved upon, and these have been overlaid irregularly by accumu- lations of soil. The difference of level between the Forum and the Capitol can never have been very different from the present. We see the old bottom level of the Forum in the pavement, and it can scarcely have been so great as between the Castle of.Edin- burgh and the Grass-market. A fall from the Tarpeian rock might NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 381 have broken a man's neck sufficiently well, if the ground below was clear, and originally it was, perhaps, hollowed out, or natu- rally lower, as ground at the foot of a steep precipice usually is. The Tiber is a muddy or rather clayey stream, as yellow and thick as the water of a clay-pit in a brick-field. It is deep and rapid, but not wide, the bridge of St. Angelo crossing it in three small arches, with two others having water only occasionally under them. It is deep and rapid enough to have been a good natural defence on one side for a town, and the population has always been principally on the left bank, between the river and the hills or eminences included within the walls. What is there in the situation of this city, upon and around some small eminences on a plain by the side of a small river, which could give her that mastery over the neighbouring little states and towns that led to the subjugation of Italy, and of the known world ? Some principle in the physical advantages of the position of this city must have occasioned the continued advance of its power. The only very obyious advantage is, that the in- habitants of this position had a constant supply of water, had a defensible retreat on these hills, protected on one side by a river not forcfeble, and had the command of the whole plain of the Campagna, as a cavalry power acting fro|p a centre. The other cities and states conquered in the early period of the Roman pro- gress were all situated, probably for the sake of drinkable water, among the hills which skirt the Campagna, and could only draw their forage, pasturage, and even their bread corn, from this plain, the higher grounds around it being more adapted for vines, and olive trees, than grain crops. Rome, from the hour of her founda- tion, occupied the best natural position for defence and aggression, had imder her eye and command the routes up to the higher grounds by which the supplies of grain and forage to the other little states must pass, and they could only march into the Cam- pagna with cavalry, or deploy troops in it, by a few routes known and seen from Rome. The amalgamation of every little rival city with Rome, and the voluntary removal of the inhabitants to Rome, indicate that her position commanded their military move- ment and food. Their supply of water has evidently not been so permanent and certain a^ that of Rome ; and their forage and grain more exposed to destruction. Here, as in every site of early inhabitation, water appears to 382 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. have been the mother of society. Water has been the first of the common gifts of nature to ail human beings whicli has been claimed and appropriated by individuals. Water has been property long before land was appropriated, and it must, from the first day of the existence of the human race, have, in the greater part of the world been appropriated by a community exclusively to them- selves ; and its use, from the first, been subject to laws and regu- lations, as a property vested in the community, and not in any individuals of it. Civilization, society, government, law, appear to have originated in those countries which are partially watered, that is, have water only at certain watering places on great rivers, or at perpetual springs, but have it not at all seasons generally in the land. Necessity must from the first day of human existence, have led men to congregate at those particular watering spots, and to appropriate them, as a society, to their own peculiar use. In those countries in which water is abundant everywhere and at all seasons— as in North America— no such natural want has forced men into social union, and they still wander uncivilized, uncon- nected, and without government or law, unless to the extent that self-defence obliges them to unite in nomade tribes. Civilization comes to such countries from without, by their subjugation, or their intercourse with more civilized people. Civilization itself has risen from the necessity of supplying a natural want — has sprung from the waters. In India, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Mexico, the earliest civilized countries of the old and new continents, and those in which men have first congregated in societies, water, from the very nature of the countries, must have been appropriated, and been a cause of law, government, and regulation, from the very first day of the existence of human beings in them. I con- ceive this to be a more reasonable conjecture upon the progress of man to social union, and government, than the fanciful theory adopted by philosophers, of men passing through three distinct states, from the hunter state to the shepherd state, from the shep- herd state to the agricultural ; and thence to the appropriation of land, and the adoption of law and government. There is no tendency of, nor motive for, men in any one of these states to pass into the other. The hunter and shepherd require the range of a hundred hills. Society, or even neighbourhood, is adverse to their subsistence. We see, in fact, that in North America and in Asia, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. ' 383 people ill the hunter or shepherd state never have gotbej'ond that state. If we consider the remains of ancient art, the cyclopeaii walls in Italy and Greece of an age prior to the Etruscan, and long prior to the Roman or the Grecian, the mounds of earth containing sculptured remains and gold ornaments of races of men forgotten even by tradition, which are found in the forests of America and in the steppes of Asia— and, above all, if we consider the intel- lectual remains of former civilization, more imperishable than the material, tiie structure and relations of the religion, and of the lan- guages of the rudest tribes, connecting them with a state of great mental development in those who first constructed those systems, we must come to the conclusion that the shepherd and hunter states are the retrograde, and not the progressive steps of the human race from one stage of civilization to another; that the wandering uncivilized tribes of mankind now in the hunter or shepherd state, in America and Asia, are the expiring remnants of an earlier civilization, and of varieties of our species which have originally stood on afar higher material and intellectual grade of social exist- ence than at present. It is no idle speculation to inquire into the origin of property. Hundred-weights of books have been written on subjects less important. Is the right of property derived from society ? Does the individual derive his right to appropriate, to individualize a portion of land, water, or other of the common gifts of nature to the human species, from a previously existing right of the whole community to that property and to parcel and grant it out to its several individual members, luider regulations and conditions for the general good of the community ? Or is society derived from the right of property ? Have social union, law, and government originated from individuals seizing on, and appropriating (o their own exclusive use, portions of the common gift of nature for the subsistence of the species, and then meeting, and forming society for the mutual defence, by arms, law, and government, of their individualized property ? Idle as such questions or speculations may appear, they are not without their practical application at the present day. The right of every man to do with his own as he likes, and the right of a government to interfere, either in the use and application of property, or in the general arrangement of pro- perty in the social economy of a country — as, for instance, to alter 384 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. the distribution of the land by abolishing the rights of primogeniture in heritage — depend, in the abstract, upon this question, Is society- instituted for the protection of previously existing rights of pro- perty, or is property derived from previously existing rights vested in society ? What was the real amount of civilization among the ancient Romans, understanding by civiUzation the physical and moral good enjoyed by the mass of the community ? This must not be measured by their literature, architecture, and statuary, The state of the fine arts in a country is usually taken as the measure of the civilization of its inhabitants, but it is altogether a falla- cious test ; for a taste for the fine arts, and great perfection in them, may exist with great barbarism. The Russian noble at the pre- sent day makes his slaves perform difficult pieces of music, or copy with wonderful precision the paintings of the best masters — just as the Roman artists, many of them slaves also, copied the Grecian— yet without the slightest advance of the operative, or of the community around him, in the comforts and conveniences of civilized life, by the effect of his labour. The buildings, baths, fish-ponds, statues, the amphitheatres, and temples of ancient Rome belonged either to the public, or to a very small master- class in the community, and the population which produced them was not in any degree benefited, that is, raised to a higher physical or moral condition, by their own labour. This is the great and essential difference between slave labour and free labour. The slave labourer may be, and no doubt very often is, as well fed, clothed, and taken care of, as the free labourer. The American slave owner, the old West Indian planter, the Russian noble tell us so, and many travellers confirm their account. But the labour of the slave does not tend to raise his condition. It carries no improvement in it upon his moral state. His physical state, even when it is equal in comfort and well-being to that of the free labourer, is not the fruit of his own labour. His civilization is not advanced by his industry. The public works, theatres, and works even of lUility, and the agriculture itself of the Romans, appear to have been all carried on for the gratification and use of a small master-class by the animal power of men working in slavery and suffering in slavery. The saving of labour — an object which has led to the perfection of labour in all the useful arts in our state of society — was no object in their state of society. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 385 All was done by slaves, ai\d great multitudes of them at com- mand, and by overseers or freed men entertained about the fami- lies of the great. Any thing may be produced, if waste of time, labour, human life, and happiness, be left out of the estimate of the cost of production. But this is not civilization, although a country may be filled by it with temples, arches, statues, and am- phitheatres. There is this radical difference between the civiliza- tion of the fine arts and the civilization of the useful arts — the taste for the fine arts is gratified by the simple recipience of the senses. The individual is quiescent in receiving his gratification. The taste is principally a gift of nature connected with the or- ganization of the individual, cultivated with little trouble, and to be enjoyed in slavery or in freedom. No exertion of his is required to enable him to enjoy fine music, fine paintings, fine statuary, and no benefit to others is involved in his enjoyment. But the taste for the products of the useful arts can only be gratified in freedom, and by free exertion, mental and bodily, of the individual in a free social state. Industry, forethought, and social co-operation, besides the free use of property, are all neces- sary to enable the individual to gratify, or even form his taste for the useful arts, even in their most simple applications, as in his clothing, lodging, furniture. The importance of the fine arts as humanizing influences in society has been much overrated. Such objects and tastes as belong to the fine arts are necessarily confined to the highest ranks of the community. No other class of society was thought of by scholars at the revival of literature and of a knowledge of the fine arts. It was the public, it was the sole patron of intellectual merit, and what influenced or gratified this small class, which scarcely extended beyond the court-circle of the monarch, was raised to exaggerated importance, and made a standard for all excellence ; and the prejudice continues to this day. But in reality the great mass of society, the most moral, influential, and intellectual, and in every sense the most civilized portion of it in Europe, the mid- dle classes, never, generally speaking, saw an object of the fine arts in their lives, have no taste for any of the fine arts unless as these may be connected with their trades and occupations. Unless the fine arts are carried on as useful arts, that is, as trades repaying free independent industry, they neither add to nor denote civiliza- tion in a community ; and then they add to it less than the useful 386 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. arts, because from their nature they employ less industry. They depend entirely on the individual, on his single talent, or genius, or execution alone ; the useful arts on the co-operation of many individuals. Music, painting, statuary, and architecture as far as it is a fine art distinct from masonry, employ but the head and hand of the one artist. If the humanizing influences of the fine and the useful arts may be measured by the civilization of those who cultivate them, the professors of the fine arts stand, as a class in society, below, in morality and intelligence, the class of manu- facturers or merchants engaged in the production or circulation of the objects of the useful arts. If the comparative influence on civilization of the fine and the useful arts be measured by the state of society most favourable to their development, we find it is only under despotic governments that the money, labour, and time of the community can be concentrated, and commanded into the production of objects of the fine arts ; and it is under free govern- ment only, and the security of property and its wide diff'usion in society, that the useful arts prosper. The amount of independent industry in a country, that is, of the free labour, bodily or mental, which the labourer exchanges for his own gratifications, physical and moral, seems to be the true measure of its civilization ; and not its temples, palaces, statues, pictures, music. Can Bavaria be compared to Scotland in the enjoyments of civilized life by all the community, although the country is drained and squeezed to produce the frippery in the fine arts which adorns Munich? The ancient Romans, as a peo- ple, have enjoyed little of this independent industry, as the mass of the working producing population was in slavery. They wanted those objects of the acquired tastes which both give em- ployment to and are the gratifications of industry in modern society. Annihilate in Europe as gratifications generally diffused, and as incentives to industry, the use of silk, cotton, linen, and shoe-lea- ther for ordinary clothing materials, the use of sugar, coffee, tea, tobacco, distilled liquors, spiceries, and our ten thousand other modern stimulants or condiments for the gratification of the palate, the use of glass for the eyes, of steam and all machinery for the hands, of books, sciences, knowledge, religion for the mind, and leave only bread, wine, oil, and wool, as the main materials on which industry is employed, slave labour as the means of pro- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 387 daction, and triumphal arches, temples, amphitheatres, statues, public games, and spectacles of gladiators killing each other, and of wild beasts tearing to pieces slaves — as the intellectual gratifi- cations — and we get probably pretty near to a just idea of the civilization of the mass of the people of ancient Rome in the most flourishing period of the fine arts. CHAPTER XX. THE POPE'S BENEDICTION. — VATICAN LIBRARY. — TOMB OF CLEMENT XIIL— HORSES OF MONTE CAVALLO.— ANCIENT AND MODERN SCULP- TURE. The pope's benediction of the people, from a balcony on the outside of St. Peter's, is a fine sight. Troops, body-guards, yeo- men in red and yellow clothing of the costume of Henry VHPs time, splendid equipages, gaudily dressed servants, ladies, officers of all countries, monks, priests in great variety and contrast of habiliments, a moving mass of uniforms, feathers, and lace, and an assemblage of 30,000 people not wedged into a tight, immovable heap, but undulating in the vast area in front of St. Peter's, form a very fine sight — very fine to talk about afterwards — but, to say the truth, a little tedious to wait upon. Sight-seeing is the traveller's dull duty. The illumination of the cupola of St. Peter's, which took place the same evening, is also a fine sight— and is really a magnificent effort of art. The outline of the dome, the ribs, belts, windows, and all that would be drawn with the pencil in an outline sketch, are first illuminated in the early part of the evening with a steady but not brilliant light. This is the finest effect in the scene. The cupola looks like some vast thing suspended from the hea- vens. The lines of light give its form, and all between them is in utter darkness. On the first stroke of eight o'clock the lights start instantaneously into brilliancy, and all is brightness and dazzle. They have changed in figure as well as in splendour, and now form belts of diamond-shaped forms round the dome. This magically quick change — done while the first three strokes of eight are striking— is effected by a number of exercised peo- ple, one to every fifty lights, with blinds and cordage, to unveil them at once. The effect of all this glare is not so fine as before. The flickering of the lamps destroy the delusion — it is no longer a distant steady light suspended from heaven, but a huge chan- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 389 delier upon the ground. It is altogether a sight worth seeing. The pageantry of the holy week concluded with a grand display of iire-works from the castle of St. Angelo. But fire-works are poor things. What is a sky-rocket to the lightning ? or a Cathe- rine wheel fizzing upon a wall, over a yellow, muddy stream, to the silent moon hanging over the wide Atlantic ? Of all the tombs in the world the Vatican library is the most impressive. What labours of mind, what hopes, fears, excite- ments, irritations repose here ! The good, the bad, the dull, the bright, wisdom, folly, the poet's inspirations, the philosopher's speculations, the historian's researches— all the workings of the human intellect for ages sleep on these shelves, preserved, yet forgotten ! In this cemetery of the mind, as in that of the body, the tomb is of more value than what it incloses. The decoration of the rooms, the book-cases, the vast extent of librarian-palace — palace in size and magnificence — make this the most princely establishment in the world. It is an establishment for show, and forming part of the suitable splendour of the head of the Catholic church, not a library foj; use. You see no books, the book-cases having doors of fine wood well locked — no readers, no catalogues: you must believe, because you are told that all the literary pro- ductions of every age, worth preserving, are entombed in these magnificent rooms. We are told many things harder to be be- lieved than this. You go to the library and galleries of the Vatican through a long gallery, in which a vast number of ancient inscriptions, on tombstones principally, are arranged on each side, and built into the walls. From the rude, irregular way in which the letters are cut in ancient Roman inscriptions, even upon triumphal arches, and under statues, and such important objects, it must be inferred that people of the middle class among the Romans — the archi- tects, sculptors, and the mass of the people who employed them or saw their works — were not generally acquainted with the use of letters, with writing and reading. The letters of inscriptions, even upon objects of importance, are rudely shaped, of unequal sizes, with frequent omissions among them, with the words some- times running into each other, sometimes with intervals in the middle, as if two distinct words ; the lines not straight— in short, such work as a stone-cutter would make at the present day in copying the strokes of an inscription laid before him without his 390 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. having any knowledge of their use as letters ; and such work as only a public unacquainted with the use of letters would tolerate upon objects of art of the highest perfection. It is probable that the sculptor of the Minerva did not know his A, B, C. Great perfection in execution in sculpture, painting and music, is not incompatible with gross ignorance. Phidias may have been as unlettered as a Russian slave. A common millwright, to exer- cise his trade, must be able to read, write, calculate, and think. The one is the civilization of the fine arts, the other of the useful arts. In St. Peter's, a tomb of Clement XIII, the work of Canova, attracts the general admiration of the travelling world, or rather the figures of a Muse, Genius, or somebody of that family,* reclin- ing upon a beautifully sleeping lion, on one side of the pediment — the figures of the size of life — and on the other side of it a full- length female of the same family, with a ditto also sleeping most naturally ; and on the top sits the Pope in marble, in full costume, as good as alive, and as large. The figure of the reclining genius, and the sleepiness of the lion, are, beyond doubt, wonderfully fine, and well expressed ; but where is the beauty or grandeur of con- ception in putting a fine naked figure reclining, tout ct son aise, upon a wild beast fast asleep ? The beauty of the execution cannot redeem the poverty of the conception. What is there in^ the idea and combination grand, poetical, agreeable, natural, or comprehensible ? The parts and execution may be ever so ex- quisite, — the idea is common-place, weak, unpoetical, and worth- less. I admire this work, therefore, not as an effort of mind and imagination, but of chisel and mallet. In contrast with this finely executed piece of sculpture, and in that respect worthy of all ad- miration, look at the horses of the Monte Cavallo. These are pieces of ancient sculpture ascribed, but without any sufficient reason, to Phidias and Praxiteles. The horses are like nothing equinine. Their necks are thicker than their bodies. If such shaped horses ever existed, they must have been a cross between a Berkshire pig and a Shetland pony. Yet what fire, what life, what poetry in the attitudes of these uncouth animal bodies in the act, apparently, of dashing over a precipice ! The very unwield- iness itself of the shapes brings out the energy of the attitudes. And the human figures, the Castor and Pollux, top-heavy figures like boatswain's mates, all head and arm and breadth of shoulder NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 391 above, and no corresponding breadth of loin, or buttock, or thighs and legs, to support such upper works of nien — yet their attitudes, and grouping with those hippopotami-like horses, are poetical, are grand, and give grandeur and effect to the parts. In Canova's work the parts give the value to the conception : here the concep- tion throws its grandeur over the parts. Who thinks here of the finish, and ariistical execution ? If fine forms of men and horses were the things intended by these ancient sculptors, they have, in truth, succeeded marvellously ill. But evidently these poet-artists never intended to give a fac-simile of a horse down to his shoe nails, and of a man down to his epaulets and pigtail. They give an idea, like the poet's, made out in part, and in no more com- pleteness than enables the imagination of the reader or spectator to work out the rest. The heads of the horses, the feet in the air, have the last touch of art ; these parts live, and are in all the energy of action. The rest is in sketch, is purposely blocked out only. The spectator's own mind throws over the whole work the spirit, character, and energetic action of the heads. Canova's work in this tomb proceeds upon a different principle— the very- embroidery on the hem of the pope's garment is carefully made out — the tailor who sewed it might depone to every stitch— and, with what I humbly conceive to be a littleness of taste, a corner of the robe is brought over the ledge of the pedestal, to show the fidelity of the representation of the piece of cloth. Those ancient sculptors have not even put bits or bridles on their magnificent horse-heads. The attitude and fire of what is represented tell that these horse-like \animals are in the act of springing, but are re- strained. The attitudes of the human figures tell that they restrain. Buckles and bridles are purposely left out ; because unnecessary to convey their conceptions in all their force to the spectator's mind. In modern sculpture, these minute details would be la- boriously brought in, and exquisitely finished ; overloading the conception intended to be conveyed, and weakening its impression. This appears to be the great difference between ancient and modern sculptors. The ancients were poets in the art, and philosophers who had analyzed the principles on which e|fect is produced, as well as great practical artists. In practical excellence in the art, in expressing physical beauty and grace of attitude in the female or the male figure, Canova, and the school of Canova, perhaps, equal the ancients. The Venus of Canova is equal, in the esti- 392 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. mation of many, to the Venus de Medici, as a representation of ideal beauty and grace ; but neither of these great works of art represent mind. Physical beauty and grace of attitude in the utmost ideal perfection are all they aim at. The Niobe, the Aris- tides at Naples, the Moses of Michael Angelo, and many busts here, belong to a higher class of composition than the works which merely express the perfections of shape, form, and attitudes of the human body, which are called beauty and grace. They express also mental power, intelligence, working of mind, energy. In this class of works, the modern school of sculpture has productions not sufficiently estimated ; as, for instance, the basso-relievo by Tenerani of two Christians, a brother and sister, exposed to a tiger in the Flavian amphitheatre. The expression of devotion and resignation mingled with fear, in the two principal figures, is great. The tiger, and the slave letting him out of his den, are superfluous in the composition, as the story tells itself in the ex- pression of the two principal figures. The Laocoon is considered one of the finest productions of the art of sculpture ; because it represents not merely physical perfection of the human frame in action, but the physical sufferings. It does so. The countenance and whole attitude and frame of Laocoon express the utmost agony of bodily pain ; but the Niobe cowering over her child in the attitude to hide or cover it, the Aristides speaking with dignity and energy, are works of a higher class, expressing mental suffering or acting. The false object of almost all modern sculptors to at- tain in their statues the highest ideal oi physical beauty and grace has the consequence, that in proportion as they approach the ideal they lose the natural. They lose all individuality. The figures round the tomb of an Indian Begum might do for Minervas, or Hebes, or Venuses, or Madonnas, or whatever the artist may choose to call them, by merely hanging about them the appropriate ornaments and appendages. The heads, figures, attitudes, and expression will do for anything. In modern painting and statuary, what you see, are a few Grecian figures performing a scene. They are actors of all work. Walk on to the next piece of canvas, or piece of marble, you find the same countenances, the same figures, attitudes, costumes, and expression, representing persons, events, or conceptions of a totally different character, age, country, and people. Raphael gives you a touch of reality in his most ideal figures. They are each of them individualized. In the fresco NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 393 painting, for instance, of a Venus pleading to Jupiter, in the Far- nese palace, there is reverence, mingled with anxiety and grace, in the countenance of the pleading figure — and it is an individual's face and form. It is not the faultless, inexpressive Grecian coun- tenance, belonging to a class rather than an individual, such as represents Venus in the works of other painters. Apollos,Venuses, Apostles, Madonnas have, in fact, become, both in marble and on canvas, conventional figures, wliich the spectator refers not to any natuml type of the beautiful within his own feeling, nor to any indivdualization of nature's excellencies; but to an acquired taste — a taste which a century ago would have represented and have admired an Apollo in a full-bottomed wig, and a Venus in a hoop-petticoat and flounces, and now represents and admires them in costumes, attitudes, and style of countenances, quite as widely apart from the natural in any human beings we recognize, or have fellow-feeling with. Until sculptors and painters emancipate themselves, as our poets have done, from this classical imitation and prestige, and follow natural instead of conventional types, as Michael Angelo and Raphael have done, the sign-painter and gingerbread-baker may claim brotherhood in their arts. 26 CHAPTER XXI. CHURCH OF ROME.— CATHOLICISM AND PROTESTANTISM. The power of ancient Rome in the meridian of her glory was not so wonderful as her subsequent and her present dominion over the mind of man. Physical power we can understand. We see its growth. We see its cause along with its effect. We see armies i;i front, and civil authority in rear. But this moral power, this government over the mind extending through regions more vast and distant than ever the Roman arms conquered, is the most extraordinary phenomenon in human ~ history. The Papist claims it as a proof of the Divine origin and truth of his doctrine. The Protestant and the philosopher inquire what principles of human origin give this power over the minds of men such wonderful extension and durability. To compare the machinery of each establishment, the Catholic and Protestant, the means by which each of these churches works upon the human mind — an inquiry altogether distinct from any investiga- tion or comparison of the scriptural foundations of their different doctrines — would be a noble subject for the philosopher and his- torian, and one belonging strictly to metaphysical and political science, not to theology. It would bring out many of the most hidden springs of mental action, would elucidate many of those great moral influences which have agitated nations, and which are sometimes dormant but never extinct in society ; and would explain some of the most important historical events and social arrangements of Europe. A few observations tipon the present state and working of the machinery of each church, as they appear to the traveller in passing through Catholic and Protestant lands, may turn the attention perhaps of the philosophic inquirer to this vast and curious subject. Catholicism has certainly a much stronger hold over the human mind than Protestantism. The fact is visible and undeniable, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 395 and perhaps not iinacconnfable. The fervour of devotion among these Cathohcs, the absence of all worldly feelings in their reli- gions acts, strike every traveller who enters a Roman Catholic church abroad. They seem to have no reserve, no false shame, false pride, or whatever the feeling may be, which, among us Protestants, makes the individual exercise of devotion private, hidden — an affair of the closet. Here, and everywhere in Ca- tholic countries, you see well-dressed people, persons of the higher as well as of the lower orders, on their knees upon the pavement of the church, totally regardless of and unregarded by the crowd of passengers in the aisles moving to and fro. I have Christian charity enough to believe, and I do not envy that man's mind who does not believe, that this is quite sincere devotion, and not hypocrisy, affectation, or attempt at display. It is so common, that none of these motives could derive the slightest gratification from the act — not more than a man's vanity could be gratified by his appearing in shoes, or a hat, where all wear the same. In no Protestant place of worship do we witness the same intense abstraction in prayer, the same unaffected devotion of mind. The beggar-woman comes in here and kneels down by the side of the princess, and evidently no feeling of intrusion suggests itself in the mind of either. To the praise of the Papist be it said, no worldly distinctions, or human rights of property, much less money payment for places in a place of worship, appear to enter into their imaginations. Their churches are God's houses, open alike to all his rational creatures, without distinction of high or low, rich or poor. All who have a soul to be saved come freely to worship. They have no family pews, or seats for genteel souls, and seats for vulgar souls. Their houses of worship are not let out, like theatres, or opera houses, or Edinburgh kirks, for money rents for the sittings. The public mind is evidently more reli- gionized than in Protestant countries. Why should such 'strong devotional feeling be more widely diffused and more conspicuous among people holding erroneous doctrines, than among us Pro- testants holding right doctrines ? This question can only be solved by comparing the machinery of eacii church. Although our doctrine be right, our church machinery, that is, our clerical establishment, is not so effective, and, perhaps, from the very reason that our doctrine is right, cannot be so efTbclive as that of the Catholics. In the Popish church the clergyman is 396 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. more of a sacred character than it is possible to invest him with in our Protestant church, and more cut off from all worldly affairs. It is very up-hill work in the Church of England, and still more so in the Church of Scotland, for the clergyman to impress his flock with the persuasion that he is a better man, and more able to instruct them, than any other equally pious and equally well- educated man in the parish, whose worldly circumstances have given him equal opportunity and leisure to cultivate his mind ; and in every parish, owing to the diffusion of knowledge, good education, and religious feeling among our upper and middle classes, there are now such men. The Scotch country clergyman in this generation does not, as in the last, stand in the position of beitig the only regularly educated, enlightened, religious man perhaps in his whole congregation. He has also the cares of a family, of a housekeeping, of a glebe in Scotland, of tithe in Eng- land, and, in short, the business and toils, the motives of action, and objects of interest that other men have. It is difficult, or in truth impossible, in our state of society, to impress on his flock that he is in any way removed from their condition, from their failings or feelings; and it would be but a delusion if he succeeded, for he is a human being in the same position with themselves, under the influences of the same motives and objects with them- selves in his daily life. The machinery! of the Roman Catholic church is altogether different, and produces a totally different result. The clergyman is entirely separated from individual interests, or worldly objects of ordinary life, by his celibacy. This separates him from all - other men. Be their knowledge, their education, their piety, what it will, they belong to the rest of mankind in feelings, in- terests, and motives of action, — he to a peculiar class. His ava- rice, his ambition, or whatever evil passions may actuate him, lie all within his own class, and bring him into no comparison or collision with other men. The restriction of celibacy led, no doubt, to monstrous, disorder and depravity in the age preceding the Reformation — an age, however, in which gross licentiousness of conduct and language seems to have pervaded all society — but it is a vulgar prejudice to suppose that the Catholic clergy of the present times are not as pure and chaste in their lives as the mi- married of the female sex among ourselves. Instances may occur of a different character, but quite as rarely as among an equal NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 397 number of our unmarried females in Britain of the liigher edu- cated classes. The restriction itself of celibacy is unnatural, and in our church is properly done away with ; because we receive the elements of the Lord's Supper as symbolical only, not as being anything else than bread and wine in virtue of the priestly con- secration. The Papists, who receive the elements as transubstan- tiated by the consecration, require very naturally and properly that the priest should be of a sanctified class removed from human impurity, contamination, or sensual lusts, as well as from all worldly affairs, as far as human nature can by human means be. Both churches are right, and consequent in their usage and reasoning, according to their different doctrines. The Puseyites of the Churcli of England alone are inconsequent ; for if they claim apostolic succession, and apostolic reverence and authority for the clerical body, they should lead the apostolic life of celibacy, and repudiate their worldly spouses, interests, and objects. But our Scotch clergy, placed by the Reformation in such a totally different religious position as to the nature of their func- tion, are wrong in expecting a peculiar veneration, and in chal- lenging a peculiar sanctity for their order. As a sacred order, or class, they ceased to exist, or to have influence founded upon any sound religious grounds, when the distinction which made them a peculiar class in the eyes and feelings of mankind, the distinction in their sacramental function, and consequent separation in all worldly affairs between their class and other men, ceased and was removed. The veneration and sanctity which each indi- vidual works out for himself by his personal character and con- duct in his clerical functions alone remained. As a member of an order, he could take nothing, and de facto receives nothing. Superior education, and the prestige from Catholic times, kept up a lingering distinction in our Scotch country parishes in the last generation; but it seems a hopeless claim now in an educated age, for members of a profession not better educated than men of other professions not separated by any peculiar exclusive religious function from the ordinary business, interests, motives, and modes of living of other well-conducted men, to obtain a separate status in society analogous to that of the popish clergy. They have an elevated, and, if they will so apply the word, a sacred duty to per- form along with the ordinary duties of life ; but they form no distinct 398 NOTES or a traveller. sacred class, or corporation, like the tribe of Levi among the Israelites, or like the Catholic clergy among the papists, having religious duties or functions which none can perform but its members, and to which they are essential. Some of our clergy in Scotland in the present day v/ould insinuate that they are, by virtue of their ordination, or of their duties, a sacred order or class in the community ; but this is a papistical pretension so entirely exploded by our Reformation, that those of the Scotch church who make it are afraid to speak out. The genuine spirit of Cal- vinism, as adopted by the Scotch people, acknowledges no such order of priesthood, admits no such principle. A presbytery has no claim, like the Roman Catholic bishops, to sacred apostolic power of ordination. Their examinations and licenses regard only the education, moral and religious character, and fitness of the individual to become a preacher in the established slate- church, and to serve that particular charge to which he is called; but confer no spiritual gifts, no peculiar sacred powers; and for the good reason, that, in our Presbyterian faith, no such gifts or powers are reserved for one class of men more than another, but scriptural knowledge, piety, sanctity, and all religious gifts, powers, advantages, and abilities, stand equally open to all men to be at- tained through faith, and their Bibles. As an influential machine in society, ou^- clerical establishment cannot, therefore, from its nature, have such power over the mind as the Roman Catholic priesthood. The latter appears also to have taken up a new and more efficient position since the settlement of Europe after the revolutionary war. Catholicism has had its revival — and its priesthood has used it adroitly. By the French revolution many of the most glaring and revolt- ing abuses of the Roman Catholic church were abolished. In no Catholic country, for instance," not ^ven in Rome, is the interfer- ence of the church, or the clergy, in the private concerns, or civil affairs, opinions or doings of individuals, at all tolerated. Its establishments, and powers discordant with the civil authority, have everywhere be(!*n abrogated. Monks and nuns are no longer very numerous, except in Rome and Naples, and are no- where a scandal ; and the vast estates of these establishments have generally, over all the Continent, been, in the course of the last war, confiscated and sold to pay the public debt of the state. In Tuscany, for instance, of 203 monastic establishments, viz., NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 399 133 of monks, and 69 of nuns, only 40 remain with means for their futuue support and continuance, and 162 receive aid from government, until the existing members who survive the confis- cation of their former estates die out. Tiie rich Neapolitan monasteries have, in the same way, been reducedMn wealth and numbers. In France and Germany, the Catholic clergy, in gene- ral, are by no means in brilliant circumstances. The obnoxious and useless growth of the Catholic church establishment has, in almost every country, been closely pruned ; and their clergy are, in reality, worse provided for than the Protestant. The effects of the Revolution have been^to reverse the position of the clergy of the two churches; and to place the Catholic now on the vantage ground in the eye of the vulgar of the continental populations, of being poor and sincere, while the Protestant clergy are, at least, comfortable, and well paid for their sincerity. The sleek, fat, narrow-minded, wealthy drone is now to be sought for on the Episcopal bench, or in the prebendal stall of the Lutheran or An- glican churches; the well-off, comfortable parish minister, yeoman- like in mind, intelligence, and social position, in the manse and glebe of the Calvinistic church. The poverty-stricken, intellectual recluse, never seen abroad but on his way to or from his studies or church duties, living nobody knows how, but all know in the poorest manner, upon a wretched pittance in his obscure abode — and this is the popish priest of the 19th century — has all the advantage of position with the multitude for giving effect to his teaching. Our clergy, especially in Scotland, have a very erroneous im- pression of the state of the popish clergy. In our country churches we often hear them prayed for as men wallowing in luxury, and sunk in gross ignorance. This is somewhat injudicious, as well as uncharitable ; for when the youth of their congregations, who, in this travelling age, must often come in contact abroad with the Catholic clergy so described, find them in learning, liberal views, and genuine piety according to their own doctrines, so very diffe- rent from the description and the describers, there will unavoid- ably arise comparisons, in the minds especially of females and young susceptible persons, by no means edifying or flattering to their clerical teachers at home. Catholic priests and monks, at the time of the Reformation, may have been all that onr Scotch clergy fancy them still to be ; but three centuries, a French revo- 400 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. lution, and an incessant advance of intelligence in society, make a difference for the better or worse in the spirit even of clerical corporations. Our churchmen should understand better the strength of a formidable adversary who is evidently gaining ground but too fast upon our Protestant church, and who, in this age, brings into the field zeal and purity of life equal to their own, and learning, a training in theological scholarship, and a general knowledge superior, perhaps, to their own. The educa- tion of the regular clergy of the Catholic church is, perhaps, posi- tively higher, and, beyond doubt, comparatively higher, than the education of the Scotch clergy. By positively higher, is meant that, among a given number of popish and of Scotch clergy, a greater proportion of the former will be found who read with ease, and a perfect mastery, the ancient languages, Greek and Latin, and the Hebrew and the Eastern languages connected with that of the Old Testament — a greater number of profound scholars, a greater number of high mathematicians, and a higher average amount of acquired knowledge. Is it asked of what use to the preacher of the Gospel is such obsolete worldly scholarship } The ready answer is, that if the parish minister of the Scotch church can no more read the works of the Evangelists, Apostles, and early Fathers easily and masterly in the original Greek than any other man in the parish, knows them only from the translations and books in our mother tongue, to which every reading man in the parish has access as well as he, and if he has not had his mental faculties cultivated and improved by a long course of ap- plication to such studies as mathematics, the dead languages, scholastic learning, ancient doctrines in philosophy and morals, the ancient history of mind and men, and the laws of matter and intelligence as far as known to man, on what grounds does he challenge deference and respect for his opinions from lis his parish- ioners ? We are educated up to him. How can he instruct a congregation who know him to be as ignorant as themselves ? Has the ordination of a presbytery conferred on the half-educated lad any miraculous gifts or knowledge ? If he be as ignorant as his hearers of these higher branches of knowledge, which few have his leisure to arrive at, what is it he does know ? What is the education, what the acquirements on which a presbytery not better educated than himself have examined and licensed him?. He is like an apothecary ignorant of chemistry, compounding his medi- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 401 cities from a book of formuloe left in his shop by his predecessor, and without any knowledge of the nature and properties of the substances he is handUng. It may be said that the standard of clerical education in Scotland at the present day is as high as it ever was — as high as in any generation since the Reformation. It may be so ; but if the public has become educated up to that standard, the clergy of the present day have lost the vantage ground of superior education and learning, and consequently of moral influence as teachers, as much as if the standard of clerical education had itself been lowered. In the nature, also, of our Presbyterian church service there is an element of decay of moral influence, produced by the general advance of society in education, intelligence, and religious know- ledge. From the days of the Apostles to the Reformation, all in- struction was oral, all knowledge was conveyed by word of mouth from the teacher to his pupils. But printing and the diff'usion of books have reduced to insignificance this ancient mode of com- municating knowledge, 'especially in abstract science. It is con- fined now to the branches of knowledge connected with natural substances, and the operations on them. Knowledge is imparted to the mind now, through the eye, not through the ear ; and the book read, referred to, considered in the silence of the closet, has in all studies, sciences, public and private affairs, and intellectual acquirement, superseded, even in the universities, the duty and utility of the orator, lecturer, or speaker. Reading has reduced oral instruction to utter insignificance in pure science and in pub- lic affairs ; and the ancient, but imperfect, mode of conveying information by word of mouth is banished to the nursery. Th.e influence of the oral teacher naturally must decay along with the utility and importance of his occupation ; and this principle of decay of the moral influence of oral tuition reaches the Presby- terian pulpit. It is unfortunate, also, for the influence of the Scotch Calvinis- tic church, that its service consists exclusively of extemporary effusions or temporary compositions. These composed in haste by men of moderate education, and often of small abilities, have to undergo the comparison in the mind of an educated and read- ing congregation, with similar compositions, prayers, or sermons, prepared carefully for the press by the most able and learned divines. The moral influence resting solely on such a church 402 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. service cannot be permanent. As a machinery, the English church is founded on a more lasting and influential basis ; its established forms of prayer, unobjectionably good in themselves, not placing one minister or his compositions in competition with another, or with other similar compositions, in the public mind— the almost mechanical operation of reading the service well or ill being all the comparison that can be made between two clergymen in the essential part of the church duty. The competition, also, or com- parison of any other compositions of the same kind, however excellent, with the old liturgy, can never occur in the public mind in England ; because the liturgy has use and wont, antiquity, repe- tition from childhood to old age in its favour, and is interwoven with the habits of the people by these threads, in all their religious exercises. The comparative education of the Scotch clergy of the present generation, that is to say, their education compared to that of the J-'cotch people, is unquestionably lower than that of the popish clergy compared to the education of their ^oeople. This is usually ascribed to the popish clei'gy seeking to maintain their influence and superiority by keeping the people in gross ignorance. But this opinion of our churchmen seems more orthodox than cha- ritable, or correct. The popish clergy have in reality less to lose by the progress of education than our own Scotch clergy ; be- cause their pastoral influence and their church services being founded on ceremonial ordinances, come into no competition or comparison whatsoever in the public mind with anything similar that literature or education produces ; and are not connected with the imperfect mode of conveying instruction, which, as education advances, becomes obsolete, and falls into disuse, and almost into contempt, although essential in our Scotch church. In Catholic Germany, in France, Italy, and even Spain, the education of the common people in reading, writing, arithmetic, music, manners, and morals, is at least as generally diff'used, and as faithfully promoted by the clerical body, as in Scotland. It is by their own advance, and not by keeping back the advance of the people, that the popish priesthood of the present day seek to keep ahead of the intellectual progress of the community in Catholic lands ; and they might, perhaps, retort on our Presbyterian clergy, and ask if they, too, are in their countries at the head of the intellectual movement of the age ? Education is in reality not NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 403 only not repressed, but is encouraged by the popisli church, and is a mighty instrument in its hands, and ably used. In every street in Rome, for instance, there are, at short distances, public primary schools for the education of the children of the lower and middle classes in the neighbourhood. Rome, with a popula- tion of 158,678 souls, has 372 public primary schools witli 482 teachers, and 14,099 children attending them. Has Edinburgh so many public schools for the instruction of those classes ? I doubt it. Berlin, with a population about double that of Rome, has only 264 schools. Rome has also her university, with an average attendance of 660 students ; and the Papal States, with a population of 2^ millions, contain seven universities. Prussia, with a population of 14 millions, has but seven. These are amusing statistical facts— and instructive as well as amusing — when we remember the boasting and glorying carried on a few years back, and even to this day, about the Prussian educational system for the people, and the establishment of governmental schools, and enforcing by police regulation the school attendance of the children of the lower classes, France sent her philosophers on a pilgrimage to Berlin to study the manifold excellences of the Prussian school machinery, and to engraft them on her own " liberty of the people ;" and not a few of the most enlightened, liberal, and benevolent of our own upper classes, sighing over the supposed ignorance and vice of the multitude, wish that our government, even at the expense of a little demoralizing con- straint and infringement of the natural rights of parents, would take up the trade of teaching, make a monopoly of it as in Prus- sia, with a state-minister of public instruction to manage it, and enforce by law and regulation the consumpt of a certain quantity in every family out of the government shops. Our statesmen were wiser than our philanthropists, or rather the common sense and sense of their civil and moral rights among the people were more powerful than both; and society with us has been wisely left by our legislature to educate itself up to its wants — a point beyond which ho school-mastering can drive it with any useful moral or religious result, and up to which, as in all free action for meeting human wants, the demand will produce the supply. The statistical fact, that Rome lias above a hundred schools more than Berlin, for a population little more than half of that of Berlin, puts to liight a world 404 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. national education carried on by governments, and their moral effects on society. Is it asked, what is taught to the people of Rome by all these schools ? — precisely what is taught at Berlin, — reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, history, languages, re- ligious doctrine of some sort, and,-«above all, the habit of passive submission in the one city to the clerical, in the other to the government authorities. The priesthood and the state function- aries well know that reading and writing are not thinking ; that these acquirements and all the branches of useful knowledge be- sides, which can enter into the education of the common man in ordinary station, only increase his veneration for, and the social influence of that higher education which the mass of the commu- nity has no leisure to apply to, and which always must be confined to a few — to a professional class. The flocks will follow the more readily for being tamed, if the leaders only keep ahead of the crowd. There is an evident reaction in the application of the old maxim, that superstition and despotism must be founded on ignorance. In Austria, in Prussia, in Italy, it is found that useful acquirements and knowledge do not necessarily involve thinking, and still less acting ; that, on the contrary, they furnish distraction and excite- ment to the pubhc mind, and turn it from deeply considering, or deeply feeling, real errors in religion, or practical grievances in civil life. Education is become the art of teaching men not to think. When a governn;ient, a priesthood, a corporate body of any kind gets hold of the education of the people without com- petition, even in the most minute portion, as in a village school, this is invariably the result of their teaching. It is not difficult to account for the great number of schools — consequently the great diffusion of those acquirements which are called education— in Rome. The same cause acts in the same way in Edinburgh. There is a great demand for that sort of labour which may be called educated labour to distinguish it from me- chanical labour, but which has as little influence on the moral or mental condition of the individual as shoemaking, or chipping stones on the highway, — and the demand produces the supply. Church servants of all kinds, from the cardinal down to the sing- ing boy, must be able to read ; and the great amount of living to be found at Rome in the church, produces the demand for instruc- tion in the qualifications. In Edinburgh, and generally in Scotland, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 406 the same demand for educated labour in the colonies, in mercantile, or legal, or medical professions, aiid in the Scotch church, produces a similar supply. Those who raise the supply are, in both cities, generally the young men intended for the priesthood; but in Rome the clergy occupy themselves more systematically, and more authoritatively, more in the Prussian style, with the educa- tion of the people, than they have legal power to do with ns. They hold the reins, and are the superintendents, if not the actual teachers, in all these schools. It is very much owing to the zeal and assiduity of the priesthood in diffusing instruction in the useful branches of knowledge, that the revival and spread of Catholicism have been so considerable among the people of the Continent who were left by the Revolution, and the warfare attending it, in that state that if the Catholic religion had not con- nected itself with something visibly useful, with material inte- rests, would have had nothing to do with it. The Catholic clergy adroitly seized on education, and not, as we suppose in Protestant countries, to keep the people in darkness and ignorance, and to inculcate error and superstition ; but to be at the head of the great social influence of useful knowledge, and with the conviction that this knowledge —reading, writing, arithmetic, and all such acquire- ments — is no more thinking, or an education leading to thinking, and to shaking off the trammels of popish superstition, than play- ing the fiddle, or painting, or any other acquirement to which mind is applied. Since the peace of Europe was established in IS 15, very im- portant events in church history have taken place, although scarcely noticed by our clergy, occupied too exclusively in the petty politics of their own establishments. The revival of religious feeling in every country of Europe after the war-feeling, after the moral fever, and excitement of the revolutionary period were ex- tinguished, and the embers of the flame trodden out at Waterloo, is one of the most striking characteristics of the times which have succeeded ; and the diflerent directions this universal revival of religion has taken in the different churches of Europe, one of the most eventful for future generations. The continental people had a religion to choose at the end of the last war. How have the two churches of Europe availed themselves of this peculiar state of the European mind ? The Protestant church is shaken to the foundation in her ancient seats, Germany and Switzerland, 406 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and, as a body politic, has lost, instead of gained, influence. The overthrow of the very name and form of Protestantism in Prussia by the late king, and the defection even of the clergy, from her doctrines in Switzerland, Germany, and other Protestant coun- tries, have thrown great moral weight into the scale of the Roman CatFiolic church. The European people had a religion to choose, 'and found the Protestant church in its very centre, Germany, in a state of transition and transformation into the new shaped thing — the Prussian church ; and from the almost total silence of the abject Prussian population, both clergy and flocks, at the .change, it was naturally believed that the change was undeniably necessary ; and people naturally attached themselves to that church which acknowledges no want of change, and carries with it the moral weight of stability and time-hallowed forms. In the con- tinental Protestant church, the revived flame of religion has not taken a church direction, but has shown itself in schisms, discord of rites and opinions, the extinction in Prussia of the doctrines and forms of the two great branches of Protestantism, and the adop- tion, even by the clergy in Germany and Switzerland, of views which would have been considered formerly in their churches as deistical, unitarian, socinian. In Britain, also, the Protestant church has got into a false position. The clergy, both in the Church of England and in the Church of Scotland, have been at- tempting to unite the two opposite poles — power and popularity — and in their struggles for church power, and church influence, liave lost the lead in the religious revival of the age. It is not the church in either country now that sustains, or directs, or even represents the religious sentiments of the people, but the offsets from the clerical body acting independently of the church, and forming an evangelical laity. The scholars have outgrown the teachers; and the teachers, instead of advancing with and leading the progress of the age, are in danger of becoming superannuated appendages on the religion of the people, sustained by it, not sus- taining it ; nor capable of directing it in the vast educational and missionary efforts which the religious sentiments of the people are making by their own agents, while their clergy are battling for church wealth, or church power. The Roman Catholic church, with its more effective machinery of a priesthood, has held the bridle, and guided the public mind in this great revival of religious feeling in Europe, more cleverly NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. - 407 than the Protestant. It has evidently entered more fully info the spirit of the age, has seen more clearly what to give up, and what to retain, in the present intellectual state of the European mind, and has exerted its elasticity to cover with the mantle of Catholic- ism, opinions wide enough apart to have formed irreconcilable schisms and sects in former ages. Monkisli institutions, onerous v calls upon the time or purse of the common man, relic-veneration, vows, pilgrimages, auricular confessions, penances, and proces- sional mummery, appear to be silently relaxed, or relinqaished, wheresoever the public mind is too advanced for them. The old Catholic clergy and their kind of Catholicism appear to have died out, or to be placed in an inactive state, and young men of new education and spirit to have been formed, and set to* work: and these men have taken up their church as they found her, shorn of temporal and political power in almost every country, and of all social influence in a great part of Europe, and even with the means of living reduced to a very scanty pittance in France, and other Catholic lands, and have to set to work from this position, without looking back, with the zeal and fervency which perhaps only flourish in poverty. It is so far from being on the ignorance of the people this new school of the Catholic priesthood founds the Catholic church, that you hear sermons from them which might be preached to any Christian congregation. Tiie general doctrines of Christianity are as ably inculcated as from our own pulpits, and the peculiar or disputable doctrines of the Popish church seem, by some tacit understanding, to be left out of the range of their subjects. They are not only free from the puerili- ties of doctrinal points, but also from the affectation, so common in the Protestant churches abroad, of pjreaching only the moral, and not the religious, doctrines of the Gospel. Besides this greater efficiency of the machinery of the Romish clun-ch, the Catholic religion itself has the apparent unity of belief of all its adherents in its favotir. This unity is apparent only, not real ; but it has tlie same moral efiect on the minds of the unreflecting as if it were real. The Catholic religion adapts itself, in fact, to every degree of intelligence, and to every class of intellect. It is a net which adapts its meshes to the minnow, and the whale. The Lazarone on his knees before a child's doll in a glass case, and praying fervently to the bellissima Madonna, ^is a Catholic, as well as Gibbon, Stolberg, or Scblcgel : but his 408 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. Catholicism is little, if at all, removed from an idolatrous faith in the image before him, which may in its time have represented a Diana of Ephesus, or a Venus. Their Catholicism was the result of the investigation of philosophic minds, and which, however erroneous, could have had nothing in common with that of the ignorant Lazarone. I strolled one Sunday evening in Prussia into the Roman Catholic church at Bonn on the Rhine. The priest was catechising, examining, and instructing the children of the parish, in the same way, and upon the same plan, and with the same care to awaken the intellectual powers of each child by appropriate ques- tions and explanations, as in our well conducted Sunday schools that are taught on the system of the Edinburgh Sessional School. And what of all subjects was the subject this Catholic priest was explaining and inculcating to Catholic children ; and by his fami- liar questions, and their answers, bringing most admirably home to their intelligence ? — the total uselessness and inefficacy of mere forms of prayer, or verbal repetitions*of prayers, if not understood and accompanied by mental occupation with the subject, and the preference of silent mental prayer to all forms — and this most beautifully brought out to suit the intelligence of the children. I looked around me, to be satisfied that I was really at the altar steps of a popish church, and not in the school room of Dr. Muir's or any other well-taught Presbyterian parish in Edinburgh. Yet beside me, on her knees before the altar, was an old crone mum- bling her Pater Nosters, and keeping tale of them by her beads, and whose mind was evidently intent on accomplishing so many repetitions, without attaching any meaning to the words. Between her Catholicism, and that of the pastor and of the new generation he was teaching, there was certainly a mighty chasm, a distance that, in the Protestant church, or in a former age, would have given ample room for half a dozen sects and shades of dissent — a difference as great as between the Puseyite branch of the Church of England, and the Roman Catholic church itself. But the mantle of the Catholic faith is elastic, and covers all sorts of differences, and hides all sorts of disunion. Each understands the Catholic religion in his own way, and remains classed as Catholic, without dissent, although, in reality, as widely apart from the old Catholic church, as ever Luther was from the pope. Our Protestant faith sets before all men distinctly one and the same doctrine and belief, the same principles, the same Christian knowledge, ideas, I NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 409 and objects. There is, consequentl}', distinct ground for secta- rianism, and dissent, in the very nature of the Protestant church. These are also abstract ideas which are set before men, to which every mind must raise itself, and which, from the very nature of the human mind, cannot be comprehended so readily, or dwelt upon so long, and so ferventlyjyespecially by those untrained to mental exertion, as the material ideas of crucifixes, images, relics, paintings, and ceremonies, with which Catholicism mixes up the same abstract ideas. These material objects act like Ley- den jars in electricity upon the devotion of Catholics : and every one seems to adjust to his own mental powers and intelligence, the use of this material machinery for quickening his devotion. With some, the invocation of the Virgin Mary, and the Saints, is considered but as a necessary, logical deduction from the great doctrine of mediation. If the mediation of the Son with the Father, be efficacious, the mediation of the Mother, who must have been the most perfect of created beings, as the chosen vessel for our Redeemer's conception, with her Son, who in filial piety and affection as in all other virtue, was perfection, must, accord- ing to their not unspecious deduction, be efficacious alsor The ora pro nobis, the invocations addressed to the Virgin Mary, the Apostles, Saints, and those who were either personal friends and companions of our Saviour when on earth, or are supposed to have been acceptable to him by their lives or suffi3rings, are founded on this deduction from the principle of mediation, and from the excellency of the virtue of our Saviour. The mediatory nature of these invocations is with others, again, almost entirely lost sight of and forgotten, and it becomes a direct idolatrous worship to these secondary mediators equal to what we pay to the great Mediator himself: and as these are at best but human beii'igs little removed from our own condition, the mind is able to dwell without exertion or fatigue upon them, their merits, and their works ; and is excited to a fervency of devotion not attain- able by the human mind from the contemplation of the sublime abstract truths of our religious belief. Our belief is the working of judgment, theirs of imagination; and this fervency of feeling is, in the construction of our mental system, more nearly allied to, and nourished and excited by imagination, than judgment. In this way we must account for the undeniably greater devotional fervour of Catholics than of Protestants. 27 410 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. The elasticity of the Catholic church adapting itself to every mind, instead of raising every mind up to it, is the great cause of the advance of Catholicism in the present day, among the enlightened, as well as the ignorant classes; and the great cause of the small in- fluence of Catholicism in raising the moral and intellectual condition of mankind, and advancing the civilization of society. It is a cap that fits every head, for every head can stick it on in some fashion or other. Its most absurd doctrine, as that of the real presence in the elements of the Lord's Supper, is plausibly enough deduced from the plain words of Scripture — " This is my body" — not, this is the symbol of my body— and the natural objection of the evi- dence of our senses contradicting the supposed transubstantia- tion, is met by the argument of the unceasing divine power to operate a miracle even every day and hour upon every altar, the incompatibility with any rational idea of divine power, of the doctrine that the age of miracles is past, that what the divine power worked at one time it cannot or will not work at another, although the same necessity exists, and the insufficiency of our senses as a test of miracle, the disciples themselves having been blind to the miracle of the loaves and fishes, although seeing and assisting in it. This fits some heads. Others find the consub- stantiation of the Lutheran not at all more inteUigible than the transubstantiation of the Catholic, and acquiesce in the older faith of the two. The majority believe that which requires rio think- ing. The French revolution left the minds of men in a rude, uneducated state, more adapted to receive the material impres- sions of the Catholic faith, the ideas suited to a low, neglected, religious, and moral education, than to comprehend and embrace the higher and more abstract truths of Protestantism. The mili- tary spirit of a generation born and bred in wars and revolutions, and accustomed to see all distinction and honour resting not upon moral worth and good principle, but upon success, promotion, and outward decoration, could, when a reaction and revival arose in religious feeling among them, more easily go over into that church in which similar merits and similar emblems are admitted, and supersede mental exertion. The period of the French revolutionary war, undoubtedly, lowered the tone of moral and religious sentiment in Europe. In the events and present results of that vast movement, so many enterprises were successful in which all acknowledged moral and NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 411 religious principles were set aside, and so many agents and participators in iniquitous events attained, and still to this day- retain, all honour and social consideration, although gained in defiance of all moral principles of conduct, that wrong-doing has been kept in countenance, and success has been allowed to legal- ize, and cover from the judgment of posterity, the most flagitious acts of public historical personages. This is the deepest stain upon the literature of our times. Who in all wide Europe, which of the many historians of the French revolution — Scott, Alison, Thiers — who, who has raised his voice in the cause of moral right and integrity ? Who has applied to the test-stone of just moral principle the men and acts he is describing to pos- terity as great and brilliant examples of human conduct? Who has asket;! the French generals, marshals, and princes, the living individuals who now revel in the eye of the world as the highest characters of the age, who has asked them, one by one, how did ye amass your immense wealth ? Is it honestly come by ? Is it the savings of your daily pay and allowances in your profes- sional stations ? or is it money gained by secret participation with your own contractors and commissaries, or wrung by forced gifts, requisitions, unmilitary robbery, in a word, from towns, ancient institutions, and innocent suffering individuals ? Where got ye your services of gold and silver plate? your collections of Flemish, Italian, and Spanish paintings ? Were these not forced, plundered from their lawful owners, without even the show of purchase ? And who has asked the Buonaparte family, who are now vapouring about the world, attempting to set it on fire, how came ye to be great men ? Your brother was a great soldier, but ye have neither inherited nor achieved greatness. Ye have no talents among you, either for civil or military affairs, that would be at all out of place in your original vocations upon three-legged stools, as country procurators, or behind the counter in the honest calling of grocers and drapers, in your native little town of Ajaccio. What, in the name of common sense, entitles you to be crowing upon the top of the world as princes and counts ? And where got ye your immense wealtii ? Was it honestly earned in Ajaccio ? Ye cannot even say it was mili- tary pillage and peculation. It was pilfered out of the taxes of those countries over which ye were sent to reign by your bro- ther, like so many Sancho Panzas— the most impudent mockery 412 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of national rights and public principle ever attempted among European nations. It belongs, every dollar of it, to the people of those countries. Honest Sancho came penniless away from his government of Barataria, but ye left Holland, Westphalia, and Spain with full pockets. His moral feeling told him to leave his subjects without profiting by a farthing of their revenues Ye offered to subscribe millions to the funeral of the emperor, and have expended millions in silly attempts to kindle a flame in Europe for your ambitious projects, while the money you are wasting belongs really, and on just, correct, moral principle, to the people from whom it was squeezed, who earned it by their industry, paid it over most grudgingly to your own or your bro- ther's tax-gatherers for the public service, or civil list, or privy purse of their state, and to whom, individually, or collectively as a state, every shilling you have does in common honesty be- long. When the great men of the earth arranged and restored at the Congress of Vienna the political and territorial interests of kings and states, why did they not follow out the principle, and restore the moral interests of Europe also ? Why did they not make the vultures who were gorged with the pillage of Holland, Germany, Spain, Italy, of every city from Hamburgh to Bern, and from Bern to Cadiz, and to Naples, disgorge individually their unmilitary booty, and restore the property to the countries, towns, institutions, and private persons, from whom it had been extorted contrary to all principles of civilized warfare ? They were not eagles, — these were but the foul birds of prey which follow the eagle to feed upon the carcass he strikes down in his flight. Political or military profligacy in high station and com- mand is more ruinous to public morals than private vice, because it sets principle at defiance openly, and not in a corner, and showing the homage to virtue of attempting to hide itself; but braving, in high and conspicuous social positions, the control of morality and public opinion. The Congress of Vienna, in restor- ing something like a balance of power, and a monarchical shape to the Continent, only skinned over the wound inflicted on so- ciety—made compensation only to kings, and some royal dynas- ties, not to the people; restored nothing of what is of more import- ance than forms of government,— nothing of the moral principle which had been pushed out of its proper place and influence in society, by the impunity, unmerited honours, and impudent as- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 413 sumption of dignity, permitted to the most shameless rapine that ever disgraced the history of civilized people. M. Thiers, the late minister of France, is now in Germany, writing history, for- tunately for mankind, instead of making history on the banks of the Rhine. He is visiting all the cities and localities of Germany which were the theatres of important events and memorable exploits, to collect, it is said, materials for a great historical work from the commencement of the French revolution. Has M. Thiers the moral courage to write such a history as history in this age ought to be written ? Will he bring to the unerring test-stone of moral principle, every act, every character, every man he is dealing with as an historian ? Will he unmask artd denounce to posterity, the unprincipled adventurers, pillagers, and marauders, whom accident, good fortune, military success, and the bravery of their troops, threw up into high and conspi- cuous stations, and who are figuring to this day in the eye of the world, the first of men? Will he restore the moral tone to society which has been lost in France, by the unmerited success and splendour of such men ? Or will he only give the world a classical work— a fine imitation of the ancient historians, bril- liant descriptions of marches, battles, intrigues, causes and results of events, fine-spun, imaginary, eloquent, modeled upon the manner and style of Thucydides or Tacitus ; a work of talent, but not of historical philosophic truth ; a work which every- body will praise, few will read, and nobody believe, or be the better for ; a work, in short, of leading articles, in which every victory is unparalleled, every successful general a hero, and glory a cloak for the most infamous deeds and characters? The road is open to M. Thiers, and Germany is the country which con- tains much of the materials, to produce the most influential and truly philosophical history of an eventful period, which the mo- ralist, or the historian teaching morality by example, ever had before him. Will M. Thiers have the moral courage to take this road ? The results at some future period of the singular moral and religious state of the European mind which has followed the revolutionary paroxysm of the beginning of this century baflle conjecture. The Protestant religion, existing, it may almost be said, only in detached corners of the world, and there torn into a hundred sects and divisions, and the clergy of her two branches 414 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. occupied in unseemly squabbles for power and property, and not leading, nor, in public estimation, capable of leading, the religious revival among Protestant Christians, nor of meeting and refuting the learning and theological scholarship of professed infidel writers — the popish church advancing stealthily, but steadily, step by step, with a well-organized, well-educated, zealous, and wily priesthood at the head of and guiding the religious revival in her domain of Christianity, and adapting herself to the state of the public mind, and the degree of social and intellectual development in every country, from the despotism of Naples, to the democracy of New York — the moral tone of society, the power of moral and religious principle over conduct, the weight and value of right or wrong in public estimation, deranged, the influence of public opinion on the moral conduct of public men lowered, by the countenance given by governments to individuals who should be branded in the history of this age as unprincipled depredators setting all moral and international law. at defiance in their mili- tary and political acts — these are elements in the religious, moral, and political condition of European society, which, together with the change in its social economy by the new distribution of pro- perty, must make every thinking man feel that the French revo- lution, as a vast social movement, is but in its commencement. We are but living in a pause between its acts. CHAPTER XXII. THE OLIVE TREE— ITS EFFECTS IN SOCIAL ECONOMY.— MAIZE.— POTA- TOES.— FLORENCE.— DIVISION OF LAND IN TUSCANY.— STATE OF THE PEOPLE.— STATE OF THE CONTINENTAL AND ENGLISH PEOPLE COM- PARED. The inhabitants of tiie gloomy little towns in the Papal states, Civita Castellana, Otricoli, Narni, Terni, their squalid nothing-to- do appearance as they saunter in hstless idleness about their doors, a prey to ague and ennui, are sadly in contrast to their bright snnny land, and its glorious vegetation. Their country produces every- thing — everything but industry ; and man flourishes as a moral intelligent being only where industry is forced upon him — and civilization and well-being with industry — by natural circum- stances — by the want, not the abundance of natural products. Truly the plenty of their country is their curse. Suppose every kail-yard in Scotland had a tree growing at the dyke-side, like the old pollard sauglis we usually see there, and requiring as little care or cultivation, and that from this tree the family gathered its butter, suet, tallow, or an oil that answered perfectly all the house- hold uses of these substances, either as a nutritious adjunct to daily food in their cookery, or for soap, or for giving light to their dwellings — all, in short, that our grass-lands and dairies, our Russia trade, our Greenland fisheries, produce to us for household uses — would it be no blessing to have such trees ? Such trees are the gift of nature to the people here in the south, and are bestowed with no niggard hand. The olive-tree flourisiics on the poorest, scarpy soil, on gravelly, rocky land, that would not keep a sheep on ten acres of it, and a single olive-tree will sometimes yield from a single crop nearly fifty gallons of oil. Is this a curse, and not a blessing? Look at the people of all olive-growing countries — and the question is answered. The very productiveness of nature in the objects of industry naturally stifles industry, Tiie countries which produce industry, are in a more civilized and moral condi- 416 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. tion, than the countries which produce the objects of industry. The Italian governments— the Neapohtan, the Papal, the Aus- trian, the Sardinian — are, perhaps unjustly, blamed for the squalor, idleness, and wretchedness of the Italian people. No government can give incitement to industry in commerce, agriculture, or manu- factures, where soil and climate produce, without any great or continuous exertion of man, almost all that industry labours for. The people of Italy, and of all the south of Europe, probably never can be raised to so high a social state as the people of the north of Europe, if the measure of a high social state be the diffu- sion of industry and all its moral influences, and of the useful arts and all their gratifications — nor the people of the north raised to that of the Italian people, if the general taste for, and cultivation of the fine arts, be the measure of the social condition and civil- ization of mankind. The olive-tree is but one of the many fruits of the earth which supply the natural wants of man here without any incessant de- mand upon his toil, and which lap him in an indolent contentment with a low social condition. The maize, or Indian corn, is, both physically and morally, the equivalent among the populations of the south to the potatoe among those of the north. It is curious that both these additions to the subsistence of man became gene- rally cultivated about the same period, both being of unknown or unnoticed origin, and the one, as if in compensation, flourishing best where the other succeeds but imperfectly.. Maize is almost limited to the climate of the vine. Potatoes, indeed, succeed, although less perfectly both as to quality and quantity, within the climate of the maize and vine, but practically enter little into the supply of food in those countries in which maize succeeds. The first introduction of both these plants is involved in some obscurity. The potatoe is usually stated to have been brought home by Sir Walter Raleigh from America, in the reign of James ; but we have, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, the weighty evidence of Sir John Falstaff himself against this opinion. " Let the sky rain potatoes." — The potatoe must have been commonly known to pit, boxes, and galleries in Queen Elizabeth's time, to have admitted of such a familiar allusion to it. The maize, from its French name' pro- bably, bled de Turquie, is supposed by some to have come to Europe from the East — to have been the fruit of the crusades, and the principal fruit now remaining of those expeditions. When NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 417 we consider the vast populations now subsisting principally on maize, the potatoe itself will be found to yield in importance to it. The amount of subsistence from a small space of land is great, and where the vine is cultivated, the maize is often cultivated be- tween the rows of vines as a kind of secondary crop. The culti- vation of maize acts upon the amount and condition of the popula- tion — on their numbers and habits, precisely as that of potatoes. The moral results have been the same from both. Where the land is not the property of the cultivators, but of a nobility, as in the Sar- dinian, Neapolitan, and Papal states, the clieap and inferior, but plentiful food, in proportion to the land and labour bestowed on its production, has brought into existence a great population miserably ill off. The difference of value between their inferior food of maize, and the value of other kinds of food, has only gone into the pockets of their land-owners, and their employers. Their con- dition has been deteriorated by a cheaper food increasing the quantity, and thereby reducing the value of labour to a rate equi- valent to a subsistence upon an inferior and cheaper diet. Where the land, again, is the property of the labourers themselves, as in Switzerland, in Tuscany, in France, the cheaper and inferior food leaves them more of a superior, higher-priced food for market, or more land to produce marketable provisions from ; and what they save in their diet goes into their purse. Thus, the very same cause, this cheap article of diet, produces thrifty, active, industri- ous habits among the Swiss, Tuscan, and French peasants, and lazy, trifling, lazaroni habits among the labourers of the Neapoli- tan, Papal, and Sardinian states. It is the possession of property that regulates the standard of living in a country, as in a single household, and fixes the general ideas and habits, with regard to the necessary or suitable, in diet, lodging and clothing: and this standard regulates the wages of labour. People who hare at home some kind of property to apply their labour to, will not sell their labour for wages that do not afford them a better diet than potatoes or maize, although, in saving for themselves, they may live very much on potatoes and mai2*. We are often surprised, in travelling on the Continent, to hear of a rate of day's wages very high considering the abundance and cheapness of food. It is want of the necessity or inclination to take work that makes day labour scarce, and, considering the price of provisions, dear 418 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. in many parts of the Continent, where property in land is widely diffused among the people. Italy is a country of contrasts, of finery and rags tacked together; but none of its contrasts strike the political economist so much as the difference between Florence and Rome. All around Rome, and even within its walls, reigns a funereal silence. The neigh- bourhood is a silent desert, — no stir or sign of men, no bustle at the gates tell of a populous city. But without, within, and around the gates of Florence, you hear on all sides the busy hum of men. The suburbs of small houses, the clusters of good, clean, trades- man-like habitations, extend a giile or two. Shops, wine houses, market carts, country people, sma,rt peasant, girls, gardeners, weavers, wheelwrights, hucksters, in short, all the ordinary sub- urban trades and occupations which usually locate themselves in the outskirts of thriving cities, are in full movement here. The labouring class in Florence are well lodged ; and from the number and contents of the provision stalls in the obscure third-rate streets, the number of butchers' shops, grocers' shops, eating-houses, and coffee-houses for the middle and lower classes, the traveller must conclude that they are generally well fed and at their ease. The labourer is whistling at his work, the weaver singing over his loom. The number of book-stalls, small circulating libraries, and the free access of all classes to the magnificent galleries of paintings and statues, even to the collection in the Pitti palace itself, and the frequent use made by th? lower class of this free access to the highest works of art, show that intellectual enjoy- ments connected with taste in the fine arts — the only intellectual enjoyments open to or generally cultivated by those classes on the Continent who do not belong to the learned professions, and are by the nature of their government, debarred from political or re- ligious investigation and discussion — are widely diffused and gene- rally cultivated. No town on the Continent shows so much of this kind of intellectuality, or so much well-being and good conduct among the people. It happened that the 9th of May was kept here as a great holiday by the lower class, as May day with us, and they assembled in a kind of park about a mile from the city, where booths, tents, and carts with wine and eatables for sale, were in crowds and clusters, as at our village wakes and race courses. The multitude from town and country round could not be less than 20,000 people grouped in small parties, dancing, singing, talk- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 419 ing, dining on tiie grass, and enjoying themselves. I did not see a single instance of inebriety, ill temper, or unruly boisterous con- duct ; yet the people were gay and joyous. There was no police, except, at the crossings of the alleys in the park, a mounted dra- goon to make the innumerable carts, horses, and carriages of all kinds and classes keep their files, and their own sides of the roads. The scene gave a favourable impression of the state of the lower classes in Tuscany. But why should the physical and moral condition of this popu- lation be so superior to that of the Neapolitans, or of the neigh- bouring people in the Papal states? The soil and climate and productions are the same in all these countries. The difference must be accounted for by the happier distribution of the land in Tuscany. In 1836, Tuscany contained 1,436,785 inhabitants, and 130,190 landed estates. Deducting 7901 estates belonging to towns, churches, and other corporate bodies, we have 122,289 belonging to the people — or, in other words, 48 families in every 100 have land of their own to live from. Can the striking differ- ence in the physical and moral condition, and in the standard of living, between the people of Tuscany and those of the Papal states be ascribed to any other cause ? The taxes are as heavy in Tuscany as in the dominions of the Pope ; about 12*. 6d. ster- ling per head of the population in the one, and 12,s, 10^. in. the other. But in the whole Maremma of Rome, of about 30 leagues in length by 10 or 12 in breadth, Mons. Chateauvieux reckons only 24 factors, or tenants of the large estates of the Roman nobles. From the frontier of the Neapolitan to that of the Tuscan state, the whole country is reckoned to be divided in about GOO landed estates. Compare the husbandry of Tuscany, the perfect system of drainage, for instance, in the strath of the Arno by drains be- tween evSry two beds of land, all connected with a main drain — being our own lately introduced furrow tile-draining, but con- nected here with the irrigation as well as the draining of the land, — compare the clean state of the growing crops, the variety and succession of green crops for foddering cattle in the house all the year round, the attention to collecting manure, the garden-like cultivation of the whole face of the country, — compare these with the desert waste of the Roman Maremma, or with the papal country of soil and productiveness as good as that of the vale of the Arno, the country about Foligni and Perugia, — compare the 420 > NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. well-clothed, busy people, the smart country girls at work about their cow's food, or their silkworm leaves, with the ragged, sallow, indolent population lounging about their doors in the papal do- minions, starving, and with nothing to do on the great estates ; nay, compare the agricultural industry and operations in this land of small farms, with the best of our large-farm districts, with Tweedside, or East Lothian — and snap your fingers at the wisdom of our Sir Johns, and all the host of our book-makers on agricul- ture, who bleat after each other that solemn saw of the thriving- tenantry-times of the war — that small farms are incompatible with a high and perfect state of cultivation. Scotland, or Eng- land, can produce no one tract of land to be compared to this strath of the Arno, not to say for productiveness, because that depends upon soil and climate, which we have not of similar quality to compare, but for industry and intelligence applied to husbandry, for perfect drainage, for irrigation, for garden-like culture, for clean state of crops, for absence of all waste of land, labour, or manure, for good cultivation, in short, and the good condition of the labouring cultivator. These are points which admit of being compared between one farm and another, in the most distinct soils and climates. Our system of large farms will gain nothing in such a comparison with the husbandry of Tuscany, Flanders, or Switzerland, under a system of small farms. Next to the distribution of property, the comparative well-being of the lower classes in Tuscany must be ascribed to the govern- ment. The ducal family, for some generations, have ruled as a liberal, paternal autocracy. The people have had no represent- ation in the legislature in a constitutional shape ; but they have been ably represented by their grand dukes themselves. The public measures of these wise, good, and truly great sovereigns, have been of a more decidedly liberal character than any repre- sentative legislature in Italy — taking into account the ignorance of the representatives, the influence of the priesthood, and the jealousy of Austria of any shadow of constitutional power'vested in the Italian people— could have ventured upon. The feudal privileges of the nobles, the municipal or corporation privileges which shackle the freedom of industry and trade, the restraints on civil liberty which in other parts of Europe keep the working producing classes in a state of thraldom to the government and its functionaries, have been long mitigated or abolished in Tus- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 421 cany, by the liberal sovereigns, who, by rare good fortune, have ruled in succession for three generations, on the same enlightened and beneficent principles. But stability of good laws and good government depending upon the personal character of one man is a stake of fearful magnitude, when the well-being of a whole people depends upon it. One ill-educated, ill-advised successor, may undo all the good his predecessors have planned or accom- plished. Capital, commerce, manufacturing industry, the great agencies in the movement of modern society, will not trust them- selves freely upon so unstable a foundation. This will ever be the impediment to any considerable progress of Prussia, Austria, Tuscany, and all the paternally governed but autocratic states, in the development of the industry of their people. The prosperity, national wealth, and public spirit they aim at are inseparable from free institutions and legislative power lodged with the people themselves, and independent of the life or will of an individual. It would be a great misfortune to civilized Europe, if Prussia, with an autocratic government in which the public has no legal influence over the executive and its functionaries, were to attain any considerable manufacturing and commercial prosperity among nations. But this prosperity is so linked with that public confi- dence which can exist only in states in which the people have constitutional checks by their own representatives upon the acts of the government, that such a prosperity is unattainable by such a state as Prussia. CHAPTER XXIII. FLORENCE TO BOLOGNA.— NOTES ON VENICE. The road from Florence to Bologna, about 25 leagues, crosses the Apennines, and from some points the sea on either side of the peninsula may be descried. The mountain scenery of the Apennine chain is by no means grand, picturesque, or beautiful. The elevation of the hills is so considerable that patches of snow- remain unmelted a great part of the summer ; but they are covered with a thick bed of clay soil in general, and the breaks made by torrents in beds of clay, the ravines, glens, and valleys of a yellow clay country, are seldom picturesque. In Italy alto- gether the tracts of country with fine natural scenery are rare. The towns, the works of art, the association of ideas with ancient history, and the luxuriant vegetation, and delicious climate, are the charms of Italy. The inhabitants near to Bologna do not partake of the wretchedness and indolence of the subjects of the papal states on the other side of the Apennines. They are evi- dently in a better condition. The land is more divided among the people in the legations of Bologna, Ferrara, Ravenna, Forli, than in the old original territory of the papal state in which the Roman pontiffs, and the princely families derived from them, are the land-owners. The people, also, had some constitutional rights in former times. The city of Bologna is remarkable from having an arched colonnade over the foot pavements on each side of the streets, a feature we are not accustomed to in northern towns. One walks under cover, but the effect is very gloomy. The climate must be rainy on this side of the Apennines, as all the cities have some of the principal of their old streets covered in on each side. Ferrara is a poor, deserted city of some 30,000 inhabitants, dwelling in a town built for 100,000. Side streets vacant, houses out of repair, whether-stained, and a world too large for their present occupants, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 423 grass-grown courts, ragged old people ; this is the picture of these ancient ItaUan cities. Padua is but a Utile more lively, with its university attended by 400 to 500 students. Venice, " the city risen from the sea," is the point to which the traveller hastens. It is perhaps the only city in the world which does not disappoint his expectations. It is, indeed, a dream-like creation upon the waters. Gondolas meet you at Fusina or Mestre, where you teave the carriage, to ferry you across to Venice, a distance of about four miles over a shallow lagune, in which the water-road is marked out by large piles. The gondola is a wherry, not so neatly built as the Thames wherry, with the upper half of a mourning hackney-coach, such as our undertakers send out in the rear of a burial train, stuck midships. In this the passengers sit, or recline on cushions, and may shut themselves up as in a coach with the glass-windows or the blinds. Two fellows at opposite ends and sides of the boat stand shoving the oars from them, and paddle along pretty quickly, avoiding the rimning foul of other gondolas with great dexterity, it is said ; but, in truth, there has been no great danger of running foul ^f others in the most frequented canals of Venice in this nineteenth century. In turning corners they might possibly bump against each other, and they give a short cry, to warn those coming down the water street to keep to the right or left. The gondolier has nothing of the seaman about him, and out of his own ditches, would, I suspect, be found a sorry boatman ; for the boat part of his conveyance is not so neat, nor so well kept as the coach part. Venice is not without her streets. There is access by land to every house in Venice. Thousands of little alleys, like Cran- bourne Alley in London, but not so wide, and bridges imiume- rable, make the landways not even very circuitous, and the great mass of the population go about their daily business as in other towns, through the streets. The gondolas are but the equivalents of the hackney-coaches of other cities. I question if a greater proportion of the 100,000 people living in the Tower Hamlets, Ratcliffe, Poplar, and on either side of the Thames in that district, be not upon the water in any given minute of the day, than of this 100,000 people. The lower classes, and even the gondoliers, have by no means the air of a seafiiring or even of an aquatic population. Our London boatmen, even those who ply above bridge, have all something jack-tarish about them. You would 424 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. never mistake the man who lives by his boat among us for a terrestrial biped. Here, even about the dock-yard, or in the boats of the guardship, a frigate, you do not see a man in gait and ap- pearance like a seaman. But for the anchor in their caps, the men of their ship-of-war might be taken for dismounted dragoons as readily as for seamen. This want of characteristic appearance of any class of men among the populations of the south of Europe is remarkable. In northern countries, the soldier, the sailor, the husbandman, the tailor, the smith, the shoemaker, the mechanic, the gentleman, have, each class, something about them not to be mistaken, dress them as you will, — an appearance, a something peculiar to their craft or class. It is expressed, or expected, even in all paintings of the Dutch or English school. But in Italian hfe or pictures, nothing of this pecuhar characteristic appearance of a class is to be found. It is by his appendages of dress only you distinguish the soldier from the priest. It is probable, therefore, this characteristic something in the appearance does not exist in such intensity among southern populations. What is this some- thing ? I take it to be expression of mind strongly applied to one single object or train of objects, affecting in time the deportment, the language, the way of thinking, the manners, the very gait, face, and air of the individual, and making him brother-like to all others of the same occupation. In the countries in which less industry is required to obtain a living, the mind, the will, and even the muscles and positions of the body, are less constantly and in- tensely applied and exercised in the one way peculiar to the craft or profession by which the individual gains his living, and obtain no such preponderance over the ordinary appearance common to all. The canals of Venice are very clean for canals, but still they are canals smelling now and then of bilge water. There is a rise and fall of tide here of about three feet, but no current. It is singular that here, at the head of the Adriatic, there should be a visible ebb and flood, and none on the shores of the Mediter- ranean itself. A long island or bar of sand, called the Lido, runs across the head of this narrow sea, about three miles below Venice, leaving a passage between each end of it and the main land. The sea runs in by these passages or mouths, forming a lagoon behind this island, of considerable extent, but very shal- low (not above 18 feet in the deepest of the navigable channels). NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 425 SO that the difference between ebb and flood, not perceptible on the shores of the wide and deep Mediterranean,^ which in gene- ral is very deep all round, and close to the Italian shores,) is shown here by laying dry, and covering the mud banks in this shallow lagoon. Venice is built upon the little islets in this little sea, covering them so entirely with her buildings, that she may be truly described as a city springing from the waters. No natu- ral land is to be seen — all is water or wall. It is possible that some individuals here may be strangers to the ordinary appear- ances of animal and vegetable life in the country, may never have seen growing corn, nor heard the lark singing, and know not what the country means. Whoever regrets the decay of Venice, the extinction of her independence as a state, regrets the advance of society from bar- barism to civilization. The Republic of Venice was a huge com- pound of all the evil principles of a social condition collected together under an oligarchy. Despotism, intolerance, mutual dis- trust among those wielding the power, disregard of the people, cruelty, secrecy, terrorism, all the extreme evils of bad govern- ment, were united here. It has passed away, and even the relics of its former greatness are rapidly decaying — the palaces, quays, bridges. In some future age, the traveller may be inquiring. Where stood Venice ? The port of this queen of the seas has at present in it two foreign brigs, a government guard-ship, and some small craft. The appearance of Venice is probably more novel and impressive now, in her decay, than in her best days. When her port was crowded with vessels, her canals with lighters conveying goods, her quays with merchandise, she may have been very like some parts of Amsterdam, or other great commer- cial cities penetrated by canals. In her present state she is unique, because it is not the movement of a seaport or conmiercial town upon her waters, but the ordinary communications of her own inhabitants with each other. Shipping and trade are not seen in it. The coasting trade of Venice, however, in small craft, is not inconsiderable. The very supply of 115,000 people, a strong garrison, a naval depot, and a host of public functionaries cm- ployed in the civil government of the district, with every article, even to the fresh water they use, must employ many market boats and small craft. Foreign trade at all times has only been forced into this channel ; and its present course, by which con- 28 426 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. simiers in this part of Europe receive their supplies through Trieste, a port fearer to them and to the producers, with more convenience and saving of time for shipping, is undoubtedly more natural and advantageous. We see with regret the decay of ancient power and magnificence; but where these were founded on monopoly and oppression, and when we see the supply of the necessaries and comforts of life better, cheaper, and more widely diffused through society by the downfall of this grandeur and power, we may dry our eyes, and be consoled. The extinction of the independence of Venice, and the transfer of her territory to Austria, however iniquitous in principle and execution, has been of advantage to the inhabitants of the old Venetian states. A government strong like the Austrian can afford to be impartial, favours no one class in systematic, uncontrolled oppression ; and where one ruling class had uncontrolled power, as the nobility had in the old Venetian state, raises, in reality, the condition of the other classes, by depressing this formerly dominant class, sub- jecting all to equal and known law, and giving security and pro- tection to every man against petty authority. Abuses from power lodged in the hands of incompetent, arrogant, or stupid, but still responsible functionaries, are more tolerable and curable than those of a powerful irresponsible class of nobility without a king. It strikes the traveller that here, among the insulated popula- tion of a decaying city, he sees no mendicity, and very little extreme poverty ; while Bologna, Ferrara, Padua, and all 4he other towns he passes through (Florence alone excepted), are full of beggars, or beggarly people, ill clothed, apparently ill fed, and idle. What may be the cause of this striking difference in Venice ? Mendicity is less common, because it is less of a trade here, the classes who have anything to give going generally by water, so that there are few street-stations in which a mendicant could place hmiself with a certainty of finding passengers who could relieve him. But poverty and idleness are less prevalent also, because the position of this insulated population creates a check upon their increasing beyond the means of subsistence. There can be no mar- rying here among the lower class upon the vague hope of finding a living somehow. A somehow living is out of all question here, even in hope, because land-work, garden-work, horse-work, and the millions of ramifications of labour connected with these found in other cities, are by nature cut off from Venice. There are no NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 427 beyond a fixed, well ascertained quantity required by this sea-girt population; and whoever cannot enter into tlie band of gondoliers, tradesmen, artificers, or other labouring men, and succeed to a portion of this labour, can entertain no dehisive liope of finding a living in any unknown, unexpected way. He sees clearly that he is but a supernumerary hand on board the good ship Venice, and must wait until a vacancy falls, and he gets into it, before he can get employment and pay to keep a family upon. The eye of the most ignorant of the working class can take in the whole field of labour in this simple state, with no manufactures, no fo- reign trade, and no agriculture, and can see that there is no room for him to marry. Venice is a striking example of the economical preventive check upon over-population ; and not working from any superior prudence or intelligence of the lower class, but from the greater simplicity of the social relations in which they live enabling the most thoughtless to see and calculate upon his means of subsistence. It proves, too, that the check upon over-popula- tion is to be found in the intelligence and education of the working class, in raising their habits and wants to those gratifications which property only can indulge in, and in raising their mental power to the understanding, and acting upon, those considerations which are the same in the most complicated forms of society as in the simple form in Venice, although not so obvious to the common man of uneducated mind. One evening there was a grand illumination in one of the parishes in the centre of Venice in honour of the pastor, who had completed the fiftieth year of his service in the parish church. It was, like everything in Venice, with a touch of the Eastern style. Carpets, or silk cloths of brilliant colours, were hung out from every window, and across the streets. Every shop had its grandest and most costly goods piled up outside, and in the doors and windows. Crystal chandeliers, those used in drawing-rooms, with lighted wax candles, were suspended on gayly painted rods across, between the houses, so as to hang over the centre of the narrow flag-paved alleys of the town ; and in these, the throng of well-dressed people of the middle and lower classes was immense. There was no pushing, or elbowing, or rudeness, in the dense mass, although crowded beyond any fashionable London squeeze. A military band of an Hungarian regiment played opposite the 428 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. parish church. We took a gondola up the grand canal, and landed at the Rialto, from whence our gondolier piloted us through dark lanes, so narrow that two persons could scarcely pass each other, until we reached the centre of the show, where the band was playing dressed in their Hungarian costume. The scene was splendid. The narrow streets lined, and canopied with gay co- loured cloths, and silks, and glittering goods ; the wax lights, the glass chandeliers, and the well-dressed crowd, appeared a scene from the Arabian Night's Entertainments realized. In all this bustle, I did not see, even in the fish market at the Rialto, a single instance of intoxication — people were not drinking, although all were singing, talking, and enjoying themselves — nor a single in- stance even among the boys, of jostling, pushing, running, or rudeness, nor a single person whom I could suppose to be a po- liceman. The ordinary corporal's guard at a public building near the church, was the only authority I saw of any kind. I doubt if the Austrian government be unpopular with the common people here. The Venetian taste seems Eastern. The old buildings, like St. Mark's, are not Grecian, not Gothic, but Saracenic, in a style copied probably from Constantinople. The taste in dress is also peculiar. They prefer strongly contrasted, vivid colours. This is also the taste in the Venetian school of painting. The very climate and situation of Venice naturally produce great contrasts, great masses of brilliant light and deep shade. The most im- pressive scenery in Venice is in passing by night, in a gondola, through the silent, narrow canals, where you plunge into the sha- dows, black as midnight, of buildings rising from the water on each side ; and all is pitchy darkness, except a small space of sky overhead, or a light glimmering in an upper-story window, and you emerge suddenly, by a turn of the canal, into a brilliant flood of moonlight glittering and dancing on waters and buildings as far as eye can reach. In general, however, I prefer the land paths in Venice to the solitary dignity of being paddled about in a gondola. I like to rub shoulders with the people — to hear the merry laugh in the market-place. The style of building in the old houses on the canals, is pecu- liar. Small, beautifully carved pillars, with windows between, and arches joining them with much open work and ornament, run in belts round the buildings ; and the main story has project- NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 429 ing balconies and covered colonnades hanging over the canals. These balconies and stone verandas of this Eastern or Saracenic style of architecture, must have been costly, from the fine cutting of pillars and fret-work ; and now, many of these ancient man- sions or palaces are uninhabited, or tenanted in part by the labour- ing people, whose shirts and stockings are hanging out to dry over balustrades which once half concealed the silk-robed ladies of high degree, who sat listening behind them in the twilight to well-known strains of music from the swift passing gondola which dared not linger. Sic transit gloria mundi. Our gondolier pointed out to us his habitation on the grand canal, and at his signal-whistle, his little ones ran out on the balcony of the first- floor to see their father go past on the water ; happier, perhaps, that he was earning eighteen-pence, than ever were the progeny of the Venetian noble who built the palace, in all their magnificence. His rent, he told us, was three dollars a month for five rooms and a cellar; but it was dear, in consequence of the convenience of the situation. In remote canals, a zwanziger, two-thirds of a franc, per week, is the ordinary rent for labouring people. Their fuel for the year will cost sixty zwanziger. The hire of a gon- dola for a day is six zwanziger. There is honour among these gondoliers ; for although needy and clamorous for fares, and we had no fixed engagement with our man, yet if he was out of the way, they would call him to come to his usual customers, and took no advantage of his absence. There are in Venice about 200 gondolas plying for hire. The buildings in Venice are not in general so lofty as in Genoa, and other Italian cities. St. Mark's is a low structure, so is the palace of the doge, and the adjoining old prison connected with it by a covered bridge — the bridge of sighs— from the upper story of the one building to that of the other. These are all low structures, that is, the proportion of the height to the extent of front is not greater than in Grecian architecture, and, therefore, they are not to be classed with the Gothic. Venice probably borrowed her style of building from Constantinople, when she was mistress of the East. Some of the old mansions in the secondary canals are very interesting, from the peculiar style of architecture and orna- ment. It is the predominating, characteristic, and distinctive principle 430 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. of Gothic architecture to seek its effects by extensions in the height; and that of Grecian architecture, on the contrary, to seek its effects by extensions parallel to the horizon. These two distinct prin- ciples will be found to govern all the details, as well as the gene- ral masses, of each of these two distinct styles of architecture — the arches, gates, windows, fronts, interiors — to run through all their parts, and to govern the whole ideal of the structure in every pure and complete specimen of either style. CHAPTER XXIV. THE BRENTA.— ITALIAN TOWNS.— WAY OF LIVING OF THE LOWER CLASSES.— DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE ITALIAN AND ENGLISH POPU- LATIONS.— CAUSES OF THE DIFFERENCE.— REPRODUCTIVE AND UN- REPRODUCTIVE EXPENDITURE. We set off with regret from Venice — a city fascinating even in her decay, and crossed again to Fusina, the nearest custom-house on terra firma, at a very early hour. In this delightful climate the morning air is not damp, raw, and uncomfortable ; but is agreeable to the feelings. The air, even in Venice, is so opposed to dampness, that scarcely any slime or green moss grows on the walls at the surface of the water, on the stone steps of the doors upon the canals, or even upon the wooden piles in the sea. It was ebb tide, and these were uncovered lower than usual ; and we passed even extensive banks of sand or gravel, laid dry at low water — such islands as Venice itself is built on. Venice being a free port, in which goods are landed free of custom-house duty, the traveller's luggage has to undergo the same kind of search at Fusina as if it were landed from a foreign ship. We found the officers not more troublesome than in any of our own custom- houses. From Fusina to Padua you travel in the course of a forenoon along the Brenta, a muddy river inclosed between artificial dykes, and the level of its bed raised considerably above that of the land on each side. This river, and the Po, run upon the country, rather than through it ; for the channel of the waters is raised by the deposit of ages, and the embankments on each side, high above the land. The delightful villas on the banks of the Brenta are like Dutch country houses, adorned with leaden statues of nymphs, satyrs, Ncptunes, shepherdesses, rows of tubs and jars holding orange trees, and shrubs, a parterre gay with ordinary flowers, and hid behind a mud-bank raised on each side of the bed of the yellow, thick river, for retaining it in its channel. Of delightful villas in this taste, the traveller will find a much more 432 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. delightful assortment on the banks of the canal from Amsterdam to Utrecht. Some poet " celebrates the song of the nightingale on the banks of the Brenta ;" but the croaking in the ditch drowns the melody of the bush. From Padua, the traveller passes through Vicenza, Verona, Brescia, Bergamo, on his way to Milan. These are all large towns, shrunk, indeed, from their original girth of wall ; but still towns of from 30,000 to 60,000 inhabitants, situated at short dis- tances from each other, and with no particular manufacture or branch of industry established in them. How do these city- masses of population live? The country is fertile. Its products are among the most valuable of the earth — corn, rice, wine, oil, silk, fruits. The rents of the land, whether paid in money or in portions of the products of the soil, are spent in the cities, and also all the public revenues. If we look at the country, we see what supports the towns. The people are in poverty in the country, notwithstanding the fertility of the soil. It is impressive to see those who raise silk — the most costly material of human clothing — going about their work barefoot, and in rags. The inhabitants of Lombardy, and the other Austrian possessions in Italy, are far from being in so good a condition as the people of Tuscany; but are in a much better condition than the people of the Papal and Neapolitan States. The houses are good, although scantily fur- nished, and displaying no such quantity of plenishing as in the dwellings of the Swiss or French peasantry— no stocks of bedding, household linen, earthenware, pewter, copper, and iron utensils. The homeless out-of-door way of living of the labouring class all over Italy, is a cause as well as an effect of poverty. It blunts the feeling for domestic comfort, which is a powerful stimulus to steady industry. People of the working class here breakfast out ; that is, take a cup of coffee, or something equivalent, at a stall, or coffee room. It is only in large towns with us, that the workman or labourer does not take his meals at home, or from his home ; and the traveller is surprised to see trattoria and coffee rooms in Italy, not merely in towns, but in lonely country situations where there are only a few houses of the labouring people. This is not an indication, as it would be considered with us, that the people of the neighbourhood are well off, and have something to spend in such gratifications as public places of resort for their class afford; but it is an indication of their poverty. Those who with us would NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. " 433 have their own little housekeepings and cooking, have not the means, nor perhaps the taste for such domestic comfort, and take their victuals at the trattoria, or cook-shop. The number of such places of entertainment for the lower class in little villages and hamlets which could support no such trade in our country, puzzles the traveller at first, because this apparent surplus of expenditure is inconsistent with the visible poverty of the inhabitants. But it is in reality the economy of poverty, not the expenditure of surplus means of gratification, which supports these places. It is a more economical way of living in this climate, in which firing is little required for comfort, than if each family of the labouring class had a housekeeping for itself But the domestic habits and virtues suffer under this homeless, thoughtless, careless way of living, and the time saved by it is not employed. The women are sauntering about all day on the gossip, with their distaff and spindle, the men, according to the weather, basking in the sun, or slumbering in the shade. The effects of climate, soil, fertility, and other natural circum- stances of a country, upon the habits, morals, and civilization of the people, would be a curious subject of speculation, and one which would explain many apparent difficulties in accounting for the very different progress of different nations. The difference, for example, in the condition and civilization of the Italian and British people is very remarkable, and may be traced to natural causes of climate, soil, and situation. The climate and soil of Italy are incomparably more productive than those of Great Bri- tain. The population of the two countries is about equal— the island of Great Britain in 1831, having 16,262,301 inhabitants, and the peninsula of Italy 15,549,393. Both countries are in- habited in much the same way, that is, in a great number of very large cities and towns, as well as in hamlets and single rural habitations. But the Italian population is unquestionably far behind the British in the enjoyments of civilized life, in the useful arts, in civil and political liberty, in wealth, intelligence, industry, and in their moral condition. To what can this difference be ascribed ? Italy was far advanced — as far in many points as she is at this day — before England had started in the course of civil- ization ; and when Scotland* was in a state of gross barbarism. * " Quid loquar," says Saint Jerome in his epistles, " de costcris nationibus, 434 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. The Englishman ascribes this to the want of constitutional go- vernment ; the Scotchman to the want of pure religious doctrine. The government and religion of a foreign country are two very- convenient pack-horses for the traveller. They trot along the road with him, carrying all that he cannot otherwise conveniently dispose of, and the prejudices of his readers prevent any doubt of the burden being laid upon the right beast. But, in reality, no go- vernment of the present day, whatever be its form, is so ignorant of sound principle, so blind to its own interests, and so impregnable to public opinion, as wilfully to keep back, discourage, or attempt to put down industry and civilizatiou. It is in the means they use, not in the end they propose, that modern governments, whe- ther despotically or hberally constituted, differ from each other; and for many objects, even the means of the despotically governed states are, in themselves, better — are a more effective machinery than those of the constitutional states. The despotic countries of Europe — Austria, Prussia, Denmark, for instance, are actually in advance of the constitutionally governed — Britain, France, Belgium, in the means or machinery for diffusing education among the people. Where they err, is in doing too much for the promotion of education, manufactures, and commerce, and not leaving the plants to their natural growth, and not leaving the people to themselves — to their own social management — to their own natural tendency to extend the cultivation of them in exact proportion to their wants ; but are incessantly apply- ing the hand of government to foster the crop to a sickly ma- turity. As to religion, the Popish practically interferes less with the time and industry of the people than the Presbyterian. One quum ipse adolescentulus in Gallia viderim Scotos, gentem Britaiuiicam, humanis vesci carnibus, et quum per silvas porcorum greges pecudumque reperiant, tamen pastorum nates et foeminarum papillas solere abscindere, et has solas ciborum delicias arbitrari." Evidence may sometimes prove too much as well as too little for establishing facts. What St. Jerome says he himself saw, is either entitled to credit, or not entitled to credit. If not, what becomes of the history of the first ages of the church as gathered from such authority as this father's? The addition to what he states he himself saw of those Scotch cannibals ; viz., that when they found herds of swine and cattle in the woods, they preferred a slice of the hips of the keepers, or the breasts of the female attendants on the herds, to the beef and pork, proves too much. People who keep flocks and herds of cattle and swine, and tend them in the woods, are not in the social condition to eat each other for want of food or of civilization. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 436 half of Sunday only is kept as a time of rest in Popish lands, and that not very strictly in agricultural labour ; and in seed- time, harvest, vintage, and hay-making, people in Catholic coun- tries generally labour in the fields after mass, that is, after twelve at noon, nor is it considered indecorous to do so. Holyday, or Saints' days, are also practically observed only until the forenoon mass is over. Of these, before the French Revolution, there were sixteen days in Paris yearly ; but twenty-four days, on an ave- rage of all France, observed for half the day, viz., until noon, as church holydays. If we reckon the days at Christmas observed in England, the Good Friday, Easter Monday, Gunpowder Plot, Charles's Martyrdom, King's Birthday, and other idle customary festivals, we would probably find little difference. In Scotland, if we reckon the occasional fast-days, proclaimed by the church ; the preparation-days for the sacrament ; and the many half-days devoted to religious meetings, prayer meetings, church meetings, missionary society meetings, Bible society meetings, and all the other social duties connected with the religious position and senti- ments of the individual, it will be found, as it ought to be found, that out of the 365 days, the pious well-conducted Presbyterian tradesman, workman, or respectable middle-class man in Scot- land, bestows, in the present times, many more working hours in the year upon religious concerns than the Papist in Italy. It is an inconsistency to ascribe to the loss of time by their religious observances, the poverty and idleness of the populations of the south of Europe, when we see the time abstracted among our- selves from the pursuits of industry for religious purposes, al- though little, if at all, less in amount, producing no such impov- erishing or prejudicial effects; but, on the contrary, evidently invigorating the industry of the people, and contributing essen- tially to their morality and civilization. It is, in truth, neither the bad government, nor the bad religion of Italy, which keeps her behind the other countries of Europe. The blessings of Italy are her curse. Fine soil and climate, and an almost.equal abundance of production overall the land, render each man too independent of the industry of his fellow-men. Italy has not, like all other countries which have attained to any considerable and permanent state of general civilization and in- dustry, one portion of her population depending, from natural causes, upon another portion for necessary articles — no highland 436 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and lowland, no inland and seacoast populations producing different necessaries of life, and exchanging with each other industry for industry — no wine-growing population, and corn- growing population, as in France, depending upon each other's production — no mining population, sea-faring population, manu- facturing population, distinct from agricultural population and production. She has no natural division of her social body into growers and consumers, because every inhabitable corner of the peninsula grows almost the same kind of products, corn, wine, oil, silk, fruits ; and every consumer is a producer : and there is no natural capability in the country of raising an artificial division in its population by trade or manufacture. The great source of industry and civilization in France is the cultivation of the vine, and its natural exclusion from all the north of France. It is the greatest manufacture in the world. It not only gives within France itself a constant interchange of industry for industry, as the country north of Paris produces no wine ; but all the north of Europe, all America, all the world where Christians dwell, con- sume wines of French production. Italy has not this advantage. With her equal, or nearly equal productiveness of soil and climate over all, both in the kinds and quantities of her products, no con- siderable masses of her population are depending on each other's industry for the supply of their mutual wants, and inseparably bound up with each other by common interests. Italy has no natural capabilities of raising up such a division in the masses of her population by manufacturing or commercial industry. There is little command of water-power, and none of fire-power, in the Italian peninsula for moving machinery. The Po, the Adige, the Tecino, and all the Alpine rivers ; the Tiber, the Arno, and all from the Apennines, owing to the melting of the snow at their main sources, partake of the character of mountain-streams, hav- ing such difference of level at different seasons, that mill-seats on their banks, at which water-power can be always available, are extremely rare. The corn mills on those river are constructed on ratfs or boats anchored in the stream so as to rise and fall with the increase or decrease of the water. Italy also, notwithstanding her vast extent of seacoast, is badly situated for commercial in- dustry or supporting a sea-faring population. She has little coasting trade, because all parts of her territory produce nearly the same articles in sufficient abundance for the inhabitants, and I NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 437 has little trade, for the same reason, with the other countries on the Mediterranean. Her seacoast, also, is in general uninhabit- able from malaria ; so that no great mass of population deriving the means of living from commercial industry, and distinct from the inland population, can ever be formed. Cities and towns are, no doubt, numerous in Italy, and, perhaps, so many masses of population of from fifty or sixty thousand persons, down to two or three thousand, cannot be found anywhere else in Europe, within so small an area as in the plains of this peninsula. But these cities and towns are of a very peculiar character. The country is so fertile, that each of these masses of population draws its subsistence from, and extends its influence over, a very small circle beyond its own town walls. All capital, industry, intelli- gence, civil authority, and business, public or private ; all trade, manufacture, or consumpt of the objects of trade and manufac- ture, and, it may be said, all civilization, are centralized within these cities, and the small circles of country around them from which they draw the articles of their consumpt. Italy is a striking example of the practical working, in social economy, of the sys- tem of centralization in towns or seats of provincial government, of the civil establishments, intelligence, and wealth of a country. Each city or town, within its own circle, suffices for itself, is a metayer family upon a great scale living upon its own farm, and having no dependence upon, or connection with, the industry, interests, prosperity, or business of its neighbours in the land ; and very little communication or traffic with any other masses of population, by carriers, wagons, carts, diligences, or water con- veyances, the objects of interchange being, from the general bounty of nature, but very (ew between them. They are moral oases, beyond which all is desert. Within them people are refined, intelligent, wealthy, imbued with a taste for the fine arts, and inspired with liberal ideas of the constitutional rights of the people, and national independence of their country; and without, the people belong to a different country, age, and state of civiliza- tion ; are ignorant, rude, poor, half-civilized, clothed in sheepskins, or unsecured, brown, woollen cloaks, or are half-clothed, enjoy- ing, in supreme indolence in the sunshine or the shade, a rough bellyful, without a care or wish for other gratifications or other social condition. The town populations and higher classes have sailed out of sight of the main body of the people. Our cities 438 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. and towns are generally the growth of manufacturing or com- mercial industry congregating men in gradually increasing masses of population which depend upon the country around, and, in our less productive soil and climate, upon a much greater circle of country around, for their supplies of food ; but not for the .- means of buying food. Here, the town population draw the means of buying, as well as what they buy, from the country, leaving on the land the cattle and the peasantry to reproduce next year their own food, and the incomes of the town popula- tions. The princes, nobility, or other landholders, where the land is not, as in Tuscany, divided among the peasantry, the higher clergy, the military and civil establishments of government, local and general, with their armies of functionaries, live in the towns and cities with the tradesmen who live by supplying them. The traffic between town and country is small, because there are no consumers in the country ; its produce is consumed in the towns without any return. The interchange of industry between town and town is still less, for each population is a little state within itself, sufficing within its own circle for all its demands, and ham- pered, besides, with all sorts of impediments to communication, with passports, town duties, custom-house examinations, and for- malities at the town gates. Italy is dotted over with these sepa- rate and distinct masses of population, forming no whole of power, wealth, connected industry, common interests, objects, or feelings ; and this state of disunion in the social economy of the Itahan people is, I apprehend, the effect of natural, not of political causes. Nature having bestowed almost equally over all the inhabitable land of Italy all that man requires in a low, but not uncomfortable condition, neutralizes by her very bounty the main element of social union — the dependence of men upon the inter- change with each other of the products of their industry. Man is cemented to man by mutual wants. Social union, national spirit, interests, and industry exist only in masses of people living by each other. Identity of language, religion, laws, government, will not, as we see in Germany, amalgamate into one nation populations having no want of each other in their ordinary modes of existence, no dependence on each other for the neces- saries or enjoyments of life. ^This disunion appears to have been in all ages the state of the groups of populations on the Italian peninsula. The power of the sword in the time of the Romans, NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 439 the power of commercial capital in the middle ages, the power of the sword again in the days of Napoleon, compressed Italy, or distinct portions of Italy, into national masses in form and govern- ment ; but when the pressure was removed, the parts started asunder again ; the cement was wanting which holds men to- gether in effective national union, viz., their mutual wants, and the exchange of industry against industry to supply mutual wants. They are a people living, each family for itself in a remarkably unconnected social state, even in the same communi- ties, and without need of or confidence in each other ; and, as com- munities unimbued with any common feeling or spirit that can be called national. This has ever been so. The earliest period of Ronian history shows Italy in the same state of social economy as at the present hour. The bounty of nature enables man to live unconnected with man by ties of common interests and necessities, and exchanges of industry. Besides this natural cause for the permanently stationary con- dition of the inhabitants of Italy, the means of the country, its time, labour, and capital, have been deplorably wasted. If the influx of riches constitutes national wealth, Italy should be the richest country in Europe, instead of one of the poorest. But the enormous capital which superstition in the middle ages, and down even to modern times, drew to Rome, the vast wealth which the commerce of the East brought, in the same ages, to Florence, Pisa, Genoa, Venice, have all been laid out unrepro- ductively, and have not left a trace behind in the condition, well- being, or industry of the people. The vestiges of all these riches are to be seen only upon the face of the land in palaces, churches, and ornaments ; not in the habits, ideas, or industry of the people. It has been reckoned that the churches of Italy, with their embellishments, their marbles, jewels, gold and silver orna- ments, paintings and statuary, have cost more than the fee-simple of the whole land of the Italian peninsula would amount to, if sold at the present average price of land per acre. This enor- mous outlay of capital has been altogether unreproductive. If we look again at the vast and splendid palaces, with their ornamen- tal architecture, their magnificent galleries of precious paintings, statues, fine marbles, and all the costly glory displayed, oven now in their decay, in every second-rate town in Italy, but particularly in the capital cities, and those which have been independent com- mercial states, such as Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Venice, we can 440 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. scarcely estimate the cost of the civil edifices of Italy with their embellishments, at much less than that of the ecclesiastical. All this outlay of capital has been altogether unreproductive. We see in these expensive structures a sufficient cause to account for the downfall of the commercial prosperity of Genoa, Venice, and the other Italian states which once ruled the money-market, the trade, and industry of the world. It may be necessary to explain more fully what is meant by reproductive and unreproductive expenditure in political eco- nomy. It appears, at first sight, a distinction without a difference, as applied to national wealth. The man who builds a church, or a palace, lays out his money in the payment of labour as much as the man who builds a spinning. mill or a ship. It is only a transfer of capital, in both cases, from those who buy labour to those who sell labour ; and the capital, although it may be lost by the one individual, is gained by the other, and cannot be said to be sunk, or lost to the country, in the one application of it more than in the other. This is the view of many political economists: but it is not correct. Suppose two merchants build each a ship at the cost of 15,000/. The sum is paid to wood merchants, rope and sail makers, carpenters, riggers, and others, for labour, or material of which the value consists in the labour of producing and transporting it. At this step there is no loss of capital ; but only an exchange of it between those who buy labour, or its products, and those who sell it. The nation or community gains by the circulation, as new objects, the two vessels, are produced by the labour. But suppose one of these vessels is kept well em- ployed for a dozen years. She reproduces her cost, the 15,000/. This is capital laid out reproductively. It is laid out again and again, and employs and remunerates labour and industry from generation to generation. Suppose the other vessel is made an habitation of, laid up by the side of a canal, and converted into a Venetian palace. Her cost is unreproductive : it is capital sunk and lost, as far as regards national wealth, and well-being, and employment of labour, having acted only once in the labour market, and having then been totally withdrawn from it. This has been precisely the case with an incalculable amount of capital, not only in Italy, but in the Hanse Towns, in Flanders, in Holland, in all the old seats of European commerce and wealth. In visiting those ancient cities, which once were in the trade of the world what London, Liverpool, Bristol, Glasgow, are now, the NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 441 traveller sees that the besetting error of commercial wealth, in the ages and countries which preceded England and her rise, has been to over-build and over-display itself in unreproductive objects, in- stead of retaining their capitals as working means or capitals in trade or manufactures. Wealth acquired in commerce, properly so called, that is, in the transport of products, natural or artificial, h'om one country to another, seems to have a tendency to expand itself unreprodnctively, to overstep its prudent limits and true in- terests, not only in private dwellings and gratifications, but even in works of undeniable utility, as in cutting and facing harbours and canals, building quays, piers, town walls, citadels, town houses, churches, and in our days in docks, warehouses, and railroads — all very useful works, but not always useful in proportion to their cost, not always saving time and labour to an extent that will ever be reproductive of the capital invested in their construction. Wealth acquired by manufacturing industry seldom falls into this error. The value of convenience, time, and labour, is more exactly appre- ciated, and is rarely overpaid by those who have daily to estimate time, labour, and convenience in the economy of manufacturing operations. Of this unreproductive outlay of capital, the traveller sees less in Great Britain than in the poorest countries of Europe; and to this may be mainly ascribed her vast national wealth, her industrial activity, and her boundless working capital at the pre- sent day. In proportion to the wealth of the country, how few in Great Britain are the buildings of any note, public or private, civil, military, or ecclesiastical ! How little is the absorption of capital in museums, pictures, gems, curiosities, palaces, theatres, or other unreproductive objects ! This, which is the main founda- tion of the greatness of the country, is often stated by foreign travellers, and by some of our own periodical writers, as a proof of our inferiority. Time and money arc not employed in works of the fine arts, either by individuals, or by the state, in the same proportion as in other countries — in France, Prussia, Bavaria, Italy— and are lightly esteemed by our public, when so employed. Music, painting, architecture, sculpture, dancing, cooking, all the arts, fine or not fine, that address themselves only to the senses, or please only through the gratification of the senses, have but little hold of the public mind with us. It is one of the strongest characteristics of the British people, that all the sports and amusements of every rank and ckiss nuist, to be 29 442 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. popular, occupy the intellectual powers, the judgment of the individual. He will not sit and listen, or look, and be a mere passive recipient of pleasurable sensations or impressions. Hunt- ing, shooting, horse-racing, boat-sailing, all amusements in which judgment is exercised, and individuality is called into play, should it be only in betting upon the most absurd objects, have so decided a preponderance in the national mind, that it is altogether a hope- less attempt to instil into our lower or middle classes anything like the passive taste for music or painting that prevails in foreign countries. The museum, or concert-room, or opera, would always be deserted for the meeting, or club, or circle, whatever be its objects, religious, poUtical, or convivial, in which the individual's own faculties or powers take a part. I cannot think this any proof of a want of intellectuality in a people. Be it so or not, it is undeniable that in the character of the people of Britain, even of the higher classes, there is no feeling for the fine arts, no foun- dation for them, no esteem for them. A single town in Italy or Germany could produce more show edifices, more costly palaces, museums, picture galleries, and music saloons, than half the island of Great Britain. The wealth of some of the smaller European states, as for instance of Bavaria, Saxony, Denmark, Sweden, and of all the little German principalities, has in modern times been almost entirely absorbed in building royal palaces, museums, thea- tres, and in lodging the nobility proportionably to their sovereigns. Royalty itself is poorly lodged in England in proportion to the wealth of the country, and to the palaces of many a little conti- nental prince ; and the merchant in London or Liverpool, or the manufacturer in Manchester or Glasgow, lives. in a modest, cheap dwelling, compared to the vast magnificent palaces of the same classes in the middle ages, still to be seen in the old commercial cities of Italy and Flanders, and in the old Hanseatic cities all over the Continent, and which are literally the tombs of their commercial prosperity. In them are buried the means which would to this day have commanded the trade of the world, had these vast private capitals been still available by having been laid out reproductively in the industry market, as the same class of capitals has always been in England, instead of being buried in marble and mortar. In this English taste there is nothing to regret, nor is any want of intellectual employment in such a social existence to be justly complained of. CHAPTER XXV. NOTES ON MILAN.— COMO'.— AUSTRIAN GOVERNMENT.— L AGO MAGGI- ORE.— ISOLA BELLA.— THE ALPS.— ON THE SOCIAL STATE OF FRANCE, PRUSSIA, ITALY. The traveller tires of the plain of Lombardy in an hour. He has no extensive view of country in this garden of Europe. Every field is beset with rows of pollard-mulberry trees, plucked bare of foliage for feeding the silk-worms. The fields are beauti- fully irrigated with clear water carried in little ducts along them ; and one or two such little fields, rows of pollards surrounding them, and the endless straight avenue from city to city, make very uninteresting scenery. It is flat, tame, and without the character of nationality, which gives an interest to the flat, tame scenery of Holland. The gay bustle of Milan, and the view of its duomo with the forest of white marble pinnacles on the roof— the most beautiful roof-scenery in the world — will scarcely repay the traveller for the dull duty of approaching them through an end- less tedious avenue of stif[ trees, presenting, mile after mile, the same and the same. Como is a pretty considerable town at the foot of the pic- turesque lake of the same name, a town of 12,000 or 15,000 in- habitants. The population of the neighbouring country consists almost entirely of the class of travelling pedlers who go out into the world to sell stucco figures, barometers, bird-cages, and such small wares. They are often absent ten or twelve years from their families, and return with their little savings to buy a cottage, and bit of land, at ten times what we would consider the value, on the side of their native lake. About 3000 of these travelling dealers from this district are reckoned to be in or about London ; and they often attain what in this country at least is very con- siderable wealth. They are a very interesting class. As pedlers they have experience of the condition of the lower classes, and even of the middle class, in many different countries, and are often 444 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. shrewd, observing men, well worth getting acquainted with. The traveller gathers from their conversation the practical difference between the well-intentioned, paternal government of the mildest of autocratic states — Austria — and a government in which public opinion has its due influence through a constitutional means of e;?ipressing it. It cannot be doubted that it is with the best inten- tions, and from a supreme care for what is considered the public good, that the^ Austrian government holds the people in a state of moral vassalage, treats them as beings in a state of pupilage, not as free agents, and governs all things by the will and wisdom of a ruling few. The ruling few, however, cannot be wise in all things, are often duped by those below them in executive or ad- ministrative function, on whom they must depend for sound in- formation, and are duped, too, by their own social position, by the esprit of functionarism., the esprit des bureaux, which is so apt to mistake the perfection of the means for the perfection of the end in public affairs. They have no wish to legislate wrong; but they legislate on guess, not upon knowledge. The ruling class are too far removed from the ordinary business and interest of the multitude working below them, to understand personally the business of that multitude ; and are bred in a circle of ideas widely different from that of the classes for whom they legislate. They necessarily depend for their ideas and opinions upon the army of civil functionaries with whom alone they can communi- cate. These must appear to have something to do for their bread, and their bread perhaps depends in part on fees, fines, and dou- ceurs. Hence the miserable policy of the Austrian, and all the other despotic states, of interfering in, managing, and watching over all private industry or enterprise, and all trade or individual action. The shop, the dwelling, the bed even of the trader, here in Austrian Italy, are exposed to vexatious examinations at the will of the local douanier — a half military German animal. The market cart going into a town with hay is probed with an iron rod at the town gate, in case it should be conveying goods subject to duty. The gig, or country vehicle with market people, is stopped and searched. The simple undertaking of running a diligence daily from Milan to Como, and back, a distance of twenty miles, was considered too important a concern to be left to indi- vidual enterprise, and was taken possession of as a branch of public business which it belonged to government functionaries NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 445 only to carry on. It is with extreme difficulty the petty trader can get passports from the Austrian authorities, to travel on his need- ful affairs. Securities must be given, and the causes of his going explained, even when his military or other public duties are ac- complished, or fully provided for, and his station in life too low to make him an object of political suspicion. One of the travelling pedlers of this country, who had been for many years in America and was returning from a visit to his friends at Como, travelled with me by the voiturin to Switzerland. He made the emphatic observation, when we had got beyond the Austrian frontier, in speaking of the trammels on all industry and individual freedom, " That it was better to be dead in America than alive in Italy." The lake of Como, skirted all round by steep hills, with scarcely room for a carriage road and a villa-parterre between the hill and the water, has not the variety of scenery, nor perhaps the gran- deur, of the Swiss lakes. The scenery of the Lago Maggiore is more open and diversified. Pebbly beaches here and there be- tween the rocky headlands relieve the monotony of rock and water. The shores of this lake are watched and patroled day and night by the sentinels and guards of the douane, as vigilantly as if an invading enemy were in force on the other shore. At Arona, a huge enormity in copper, the colossal statue of Saint Charles of Borromeo, is the wonder— not, I presume, the admira- tion — of all travellers. It is said to be SO feet high, and the head, in size, and merit as a work of art, is about equal to the wooden house of a small windmill. In the same taste, and a monument of the same senseless expenditure of the same family, is the Bor- romean Isle in the Lago Maggiore — the Isola Bella. It is as bella as a little rocky islet in a lake can be, covered entirely with par- terres, and flower pots, and grotto work, shell work, moss work, statuary work, and such gewgaws, with a French chateau to cor- respond. The isle so decked out, amidst scenery of a totally different character, looks like an old court lady arrayed in silks, lace, and diamonds, a hooped petticoat, and white satin shoes, left by some mischance, scpialting down all alone upon a rock in the midst of a Highland loch. The thing is neither pretty nor in place ; but it has its value, too, in contrast. It is but a day's journey from this wretched monument of bad taste to some of the grandest scenes in Europe. The traveller, however, in crossing the Simplon, misses almost all the sublime impressions he expects. 446 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. The highest elevation of the road across it, from Domo d'Ossolo on the Italian side to Brigg in the Valois, is about 4500 feet ; and although at this elevation there are avalanches, snows, glaciers, winding roads, with cataracts and precipices below, and clouds and blue sky above, and all the other romance furniture of Alpine scenery, yet, if truth may be told, the hills of two or three thou- sand feet of elevation in our northern latitude and climate are far more imposing on the human mind, far more sublime. The positive elevation to which you have been climbing up perhaps from the pier of Boulogne, or the quay of Naples, or the Lido of Venice, enters not into the mind through the senses, but only on consideration, and as a cold mathematical truth. What strikes the mind on great mountain elevations is the sublime, almost terrific silence, suspension, death of nature, the lonely sterility, the absence of all animal or vegetable life, the reduction of all created objects to rock and cloud. This is felt in our northern latitude on hills of 2000 feet, more impressively than in this climate at 4000 feet of elevation. The tree grows, the bird sings at the very edge of the perpetual snow here, more vigorously than on many a northern sea-side plain. In passing through France, Prussia, Italy, the traveller returns daily to the question, How do the political institutions, the laws, mode of government, and national education of those countries act upon the social condition of the people? To ascertain, or at least to approximate to a just estimate of these influences in difler- ent parts of Europe, is the object of the preceding Notes. Will the reader concur in the following inferences from them ? The object of the governments of these countries must be the same as that of our own government — the advantage and well- being of the governed. The difference must be in the means used, not in the end proposed. But good legislation, which is the means used both by the des- potic and liberal government for advancing the well-being of the people, is not confined to or a necessary consequence of legislative power being vested in the representatives of the people. We have in Britain, both in our civil and criminal code, laws more NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 447 absurd, unjust, and prejudicial to the interests and well-being of the governed, than the modern laws of any country in Europe : for instance, our game laws, our excise laws, our poor laws, our corn laws, and other laws and classes of laws of even recent en- actment, or recently revived. In the autocratic states, Prussia and Austria, in which the legislative power is solely in the execu- tive, there are few subjects of legislation in which the executive has any interest at variance with or different from that of the people, or any favourable feeling towards impolitic, oppressive, or unequal laws. On all that concerns private property, on all questions between man and man, on all acts injurious to the pub- lic, on all civil, criminal, and police affairs, it is the interest of the despotic as much as of the free state to legislate aright. It is also, theoretically considered, more in the power of the despotic state to do so — unpleasant as this truth may sound in ears radical— than of the liberally constituted or free state ; because the persons ap- pointed by the executive to consult together, consider, frame, and draw out the law, are theoretically men bred to legislative science, who endeavour to become acquainted with the wants and busi- ness of the country, have no personal interests in faulty legislation, and although liable to be misinformed by the functionaries around them, are unimpeded by ignorant, incompetent fellow-legislators as in a popularly elected parliament or legislative assembly. There is, theoretically, no reason, in shorty in the nature of des- potism or autocratic government itself, as existing in modern en- lightened times, why it should not legislate as beneficially for the social condition of a people as a freely chosen representative legislature ; and there can be no doubt that the Austrian and Prussian autocrats, in the beneficent paternal government which they affect, do sincerely endeavour to exercise their legislative power, before God and man, for the well-being of their people. The administration of law, also, as well as the enactment, may be, and practically is, more effective and perfect, both in the civil and criminal courts, in the despotic than in the free states. The nature of despotic government admits of, and produces a chain of precise, almost military arrangements for inspection, reference, check, and responsibility, running through the whole exercise of judicial function, from the lowest court to the highest. These autocratically ruled countries are generally divided into small circles, each with its court, its judge, its public prosecutor, its 448 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. licensed procurators or advocates; and their proceedings are regularly reported to and watched over by higher judicial colleges who have superintendence over a group of these lower primary courts, and in some countries, as in Denmark, take cognizance of every case and decision of the inferior court, whether appealed from by the parties or not, revise their whole protocols, and even check undue delay in giving judgment, or undue charges of the procurators, and are themselves subject to similar regular inspection and surveillance in the discharge of these duties by still higher judicial colleges in the state. In the despotic states of modern Europe, the judicial power is thus more immediately, and for the people more readily and cheaply applied, and by a machin- ery more perfect, more divested of personal causes of error in judgment from political party feehngs, prejudices, or interests, and more carefully watched over and checked, than in our own social economy in Britian. England and Scotland are, perhaps, the only two countries in Europe which have not, in the course of the present half-century, reconstructed their old imperfect or feudal arrangements for the administration of law to the people,and have not remodeled their law courts to suit the business of the age. In what, then, in modern times, if it be neither in the enact- ment nor in the administration of law, in what consists the differ- ence between free and despotic, liberal and anti-liberal govern- ment, as far as regards practically the social condition, and the moral and physical well-being of a people ? The difference lies in this : Man, in his social state, is not intended by his Creator to be only a passive subject of wise and good government, be it ever so wise and good, but to attain the higher moral condition of wisely and well governing himself, not only in his private moral capacity as an individual, but in his social political capacity as one of the members of a community. Morality and religion direct him in his private capacity ; but if he is debarred by the arbitrary institutions of his government from exercising the other half of his social duties, he is, morally considered, but half a man, is answering but half the end for which man is sent into this world as a social being ; is fulfilling but half the duties given him to be fulfilled by his Creator ; for man is created a political as well as a moral being — has a political as well as a moral ex- istence. A people governed by laws, in the enactment of which NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 449 they have no voice, and by functionaries independent of public opinion, are in a low social and political, and consequently in a low moral condition, however suitable and excellent the law itself and its administration may be. They are morally slaves. The Prussian, the Austrian, the Neapolitan, the Papal subjects stand equally upon this low moral level. The Prussian, the Austrian, and Tuscan do, no doubt, enjoy the advantage of many good laws, and good institutions, but they do not enjoy the advantage of having made them — a moral advantage as great as the material advantage of having the benefit of them. If the public mind is not exercised and nourished in the considering, enacting, and executing for itself the good legislation the public enjoys, public spirit, patriotism, and, in private life, as individuals, the spirit of free agency in moral conduct, and the sense of moral responsi- bility are quenched under the all-doing, paternal management of the autocrat for his people, as much as under a harder despot- ism. His mildness and beneficence reach only their physical, not their moral good. They are in a state of mental vassalage as moral and social beings, in a state of pupilage, not of free agency, whatever be their education, or their physical condition as to food and the comforts of life. The enjoyments and charac- ter of an animal-people are all that men attain to under these paternal autocratic governments, with perhaps the development, in the town populations, of taste and feeling for the fine arts, and a certain polish and amenity of manners. These are not to be under-valued, but are very agreeable accomplishments to live with, and are closely connected with many social virtues. But however delightful to live with, and however important in reality to the comfort and happiness of social Ufe, and to the formation of civilized habits and character among a people, these are not the highest acquirements for man in a social state to attain. We attach too great importance to these superficial, although intellec- tual and moral acquirements, in estimating the education of an individual, or of a nation. National education, as it is called, turns, in all these paternal autocratic governments which will not leave the people to the education of their own free agency as moral beings united in society, principally upon the develop- ment of these tastes, manners, and feelings. If eating, drinking, lodging, and living well, for very little outlay of industry, exer- tion, or bodily labour, and still less of mental, and along with 450 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. these the enjoyment, tHrough the eye and ear, of all the pleasures 'that a cultivated, educated taste in the fine arts affords, — if phy- sical good with this kind of intellectual culture or development be the great end to be attained by man in society, these autocra- tic governments are i:-apidly carrying their people to a higher social condition than that of the people of Britain. But if the moral and social duties of man, as a member of the human family, demand something more than his own animal enjoyment, physical well-being, and personal gratification even in the intellectual exercise of his taste and feeling — if his true position in life be that in which his moral and intellectual nature can be fully and freely developed in the exercise of his capabili- ties, duties, and rights, as a thinking, responsible free agent — and his true education, that which fits him for this position,— then are these autocratic governments and their subjects in a low social position — one far beneath that of the British, — and their systems of national education are not adapted to the great moral end of' human existence, but merely to support their governments. If we fairly consider the social condition of the continental man of whatever class, whatever position, or whatever country, Neapo- litan, or Austrian, or Prussian, we find him, body and soul, a slave. His going out and coming in, his personal bodily and mental action in the use of his property, in the exercise of his industry and talents, in his education, his religion, his laws, his doings, thinkings, readings, talkings, in public or private afiairs, are fitted on to him by his master, the state", like clothing on a convict, and in these alone can he move, or execute any act of social existence. He has no individual existence socially or morally, for he has no individual free agency. His education fits , him for this state of pupilage, but not for independent action as a reflecting, self-guid- ing being, sensible of and daily exercising his social, political, moral, and rehgious rights and duties, as a free agent. In his position relatively to these rights and duties, the continental man stands on, a level very far below that of the individual of our country in a corresponding class of society. With all the igno- rance and vice imputed to our lower classes, they are, in true and efficient education, as members of society acting for themselves in their rights and duties, and under guidance of their own judgment, moral sense, and conscience, in a far higher intellectual, moral;, J^N 1 9 m9 NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. 451 and religious condition, than the educated slaves of the Continent. This is the conclusion, in social economy, which the author of the preceding Notes has come to, and which the reader is requested to consider. THE END. (y ^ : (^"i" ".% '"oo^Si-.<.:'--oo'^ ^^0^ A Q, V ^ ^ * A -U » '.v 3 ^. 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