THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Gift From the Library of Henry Goldman, Ph.D. 1886-1972 THE WORKS OF HENRY THOMAS BUCKLE VOL. I. PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON THE MISCELLANEOUS AND POSTHUMOUS WORKS OF HENRY THOMAS BUCKLE A NEW AND ABRIDGED EDITION EDITED BY GRANT ALLEN IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. I. LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1885 All rights reserved Stack Annex "D 1 y.\ PREFACE. Ix 1872 Buckle's Miscellaneous and Posthumous Works were published in three stout volumes, under the editorship of Miss Helen Taylor. They consisted, roughly speaking, of two parts. The first part comprised the minor writings put forth by the author himself during his own lifetime ; that is to say, the ' Lecture on the Influence of Women on Knowledge,' the 'Review of Mill's Liberty,' and the ' Letter to a Gentleman on Pooley's Case.' The second part comprised the contents of Buckle's Common Place Books, together with a few historical fragments, destined for the most part as materials for his great work, the History of Civilisa- tion. That edition being now exhausted, it has been thought advisable to reduce the book in bulk by the omission of several unimportant notes and fragments, while retaining everything which, in the opinion of the present editor, Buckle himself would have wished to submit to the judgment of the world in its existing con- dition. The Miscellaneous Works published by Buckle himself have of course been here included in their entirety, not excepting the manly and outspoken ' Letter to a Gentleman on Pooley's Case,' in spite of the possible susceptibilities of persons still living. Most of the Fragments have also been retained, because, though ob- viously unfinished, and often thrown loosely together without reference to the heading by which they are introduced, they contain a considerable proportion of original matter, and cast no little incidental light on Buckle's method of research and composi- tion. Of the contents of the Common Place Books, on the other hand, only a very small portion, consisting of the most original and Vi PREFACE important paragraphs, has been here reprinted. By far the greater part of the entries in these books is made up of quotations, or 'abstracts from other writers ; and it may be fairly doubted whether Buckle himself would have cared to let them be presented to the world in their primitive baldness and naked simplicity. But so far as concerns the wants of students, who might possibly wish to follow the author of the History of Civilisation through the process as well as the product of book-making, the former edition must have amply sufficed to meet all reasonable needs. In the present selection, intended as it is for more general circulation, the editor has thought it well to suppress all that portion of the Common Place Books which consisted entirely of extracts from other authors, with few or no original observations, and to retain only those passages which expressed some part of Buckle's own thinking, or represented the collation and comparison of several more or less independent authorities. Especially has he endeavoured to pick out from the mass all such notes as exhibited Buckle (however indefinitely) in the character of a first precursor of the now accepted sociological method, In matters of selection opinions must always necessarily differ ; some will doubtless deem that much has been retained which might have been omitted, and much omitted which might have been retained : but the editor has at least tried to ask himself about every paragraph kept or sacrificed, ' Is this a pas- sage which Buckle himself, in the interests of his own reputation, would have wished to put forth as it stands, without correction or alteration ? ' If he has erred, he believes his error lies rather on the side of laxity and comprehensiveness than of undue severity. He has allowed much to pass that was evidently crude and undi- gested, lest he should seem to be pruning with too vigorous and unsparing a knife the passing reflections of a great suggestive and nebulous thinker. The excellent Biographical Notice of Buckle by Miss Helen Taylor still remains as an introduction to this edition. G. A. THE NOOK, DORKING : 1885. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE (BY Miss TAYLOR) .... THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN ON THE PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE MILL ON LIBERTY LETTER TO A GENTLEMAN RESPECTING POOLEY'S CASE . PAGE i 55 75 POSTHUMOUS WORKS. REIGN OF ELIZABETH 143 FRAGMENTS. PAGE Possibility of History . . . 200 Disputes among Different Branches of Knowledge . . . . 208 Physiology 2I Climate 213 Crime 217 Middle State of European His- tory 220 Absurdities in Early History . . 230 Progress in European History . 232 Ballads, &c 236 Preliminary for Reign of Elizabeth 242 Sixteenth Century . . . . 243 Seventeenth Century . . . 248 Philology 250 Eighteenth Century England Influence of German Literature in England . English Literature in the Nine- teenth Century . . . . George III Reaction in England in the Eigh- teenth Century Bad Points under George III. Despotism under George III. . After French Revolution Improvements under George III. Progress in the Eighteenth Cen- tury PAGE 252 260 273 276 282 287 290 294 295 297 Vlil CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME Circumstances Favourable to the English People early in the Nineteenth Century . . . 302 England in the Nineteenth Cen- tury . ... . . .3 3 Errors of Voltaire . . . . 310 Rousseau and Materialism . .310 Rousseau and his School . . . 315 French Literature after 1750 . 316 .(Esthetic Movement after 1750 . . 319 Classical School .... 320 Scepticism 320 Political Economy in France in the Eighteenth Century . . . 322 Religious Persecution under Louis XV 324 The Jesuits in France in the Eigh- teenth Century .... 325 Jansenism among Clergy . . . 326 The French Government attacked the Clergy 327 Character of Louis XVI. . . . 327 French Revolution . . . 330 Notes for French Revolution . . 331 Influence of England and Coalition on France ..... 334 Consequence of England interfer- ing with the French Revolution . 335 France in the Nineteenth Century 342 Greece 354 Decline of Greece .... 367 Africa ...... 374 Asia 384 America, Exclusive of United States 398 Observations on the Spirit of Com- merce ..... 402 On the Tendency of Military Insti- tutions and the Character of Soldiers 408 History of Military Institutions and the Army ..... 411 History of the English Army . . 415 The Rise of Agriculture . . 417 History of Agriculture . . . 424 History of the Prices of Corn . 425 Influence of the Clergy upon Civili- sation 427 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. BY MISS HELEN TAYLOR. FEW men, perhaps, have been placed throughout life in circum- stances more favourable to the development and utilisation of intellectual power than those which surrounded Henry Thomas Buckle, the author of the History of Civilization in England. He belonged by birth to that middle class of whose services to the world he himself entertained so high an estimate ; and he had the good fortune also to belong to a family which seems to have united considerable taste for literature with sufficient fortune to place at his disposal, from an early age, such means of study or travel as he himself desired. These advantages he shared, it is true, with thousands of young men who never make any visible return to the world for their good fortune ; nevertheless, it is probable that a larger proportion of young men so circumstanced do actually distinguish themselves, than of any other class in life. But Mr. Buckle's good fortune consisted more especially in two other circumstances which fell to his lot In the first place, his mother, who seems to have early formed a high estimate of her son's abilities, unceasingly stimulated and encouraged him to exertion. And, in the second place, the delicacy of his health, from childhood upwards, shut him out from schools, from the universities, and from the professions from all those places and pursuits, in short, where boys and men learn to imitate one another ; where they learn to accept conventional solutions to the problems which are sure to present themselves to every active intellect ; or where they learn to limit their ambition to the acquirement of wealth or of worldly success. For his love of VOL. i. B 2 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE study, as well as for his undoubted ambition to distinguish himself, Mr. Buckle was probably indebted to his mother. But to the weak health which led him to solitary study must be attributed much, not only of his universally admitted originality of thought, but also of that characteristic vigour of expression which enabled him to bring his thoughts home to the popular mind with such striking success; His standard of expression was formed, like that of most other people, by his mental companions ; but these com- panions were, in his case (fortunately for his renown and his readers), composed of the great minds of all ages. A life so uneventful as that of Mr. Buckle ought to be recounted either by himself or by some intimate companion of his studies and his thoughts. The growth of a mind like his would be a valuable study to those who are engaged either in stimulating or in training other minds. And there would also be great psycho- logical interest in tracing the growth of his ideas, the changes in his opinions, his habits of mind, and methods of work. Unfor- tunately, the only person except himself who might have been in a position to make all this known to the world was the dearly loved mother whose death preceded his own by three years. That she would have possessed the power to do it, had she outlived him, may be inferred with probability from the terms in which he has described his own sad experience in watching her last illness, for he speaks of watching ' the noble faculties dwindling by degrees.' ' And there is additional evidence that she could understand his work, as well as stimulate him to it, in another touching passage of his writings, written after her death. For the opinion of the vorld, he says, he cares nothing, ' because, now at least, there is no one whose censure I fear, or whose praise I covet. Once, indeed, it was otherwise, but that is past and gone for ever.' 2 There can be little doubt, moreover, that the opinion so often expressed by him in his writings, that great men have generally had mothers of exceptional talent, was not uninfluenced by his own experience. The fact that in his mother's society he found all the aid and the sympathy he needed, and that she was his almost constant com- panion, has probably had an unfavourable effect on the value of such materials as could be collected for a biography. Fortunately, 1 See his review of Mill on Liberty, infra, p. 127. * See Letter to a Gentleman respecting Pooley's Case, infra, p. 132. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 3 however, we may be tolerably sure that it would have been his own wish that a biography of him should be mainly concerned with his writings. ' I live,' says he, ' only for literature ; my works are my only actions ; they are not wholly unknown, and I leave it to them to protect my name.' l The present sketch, therefore, will be in the main confined to tracing, as far as his very dry and succinct Journals will allow, the preparatory studies which led up to his writings, and to preserving such remarks of his own upon their scope and purport as it has been possible to collect. Even for this the materials are but slight ; but before entering upon them it will be well that the reader should be in possession of an outline of the facts of his life, for which we are indebted to his surviving sister : Henry Thomas Buckle was the son of Thomas Henry Buckle, a wealthy merchant, who was born October 6, 1779, died January 24, 1840, and who married Jane, daughter of Peter Middleton and Mary Uodsworth his wife, both of the county of York, in 1811, by whom he had three children : a son, Henry Thomas, and two daughters. Henry Thomas was born at Lee, in Kent, November 24, 1821, whilst his parents were on a visit to his father's only brother. Greatly beloved by his family, the author of the History of Civilization in England was a feeble and delicate infant. He had no pleasure in the society of children of his own age, nor did he care for children's books ; his great delight was the Bible ; he would sit for hours by the side of his mother to hear the Scriptures read. But although his mother bought him books without end, he felt no interest in any of them until one day she brought him home the Arabian Nights, which he greedily de- voured, and from that time he loved books. His father was a staunch Tory, and at an early age his son took interest in politics, and held his father's views. When he was quite a youngster he and a cousin of about his own age, who was brought up with him as a brother, used to play at Parson and Clerk as they called it. Henry Thomas would always preach, and although quite a child his mother used to say that his eloquence was extraordinary. As a child he was never awkward or intrusive, but always did the right thing in the right place. From a child he had conversational powers, and made himself acquainted with everything that was going on. He was sent to school to a clergy- man, it being thought that a change from home might be of service to him ; but his health failed, and he was soon taken away. His father encouraged his love of reading, and he had many advantages at home. 1 Letter to a Gentleman respecting Pooley's Case, infra, p. 131. B 2 4 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE In the year 1837, being with his family at Tunbridge Wells, he in- dulged in billiards, and after three months lost a considerable sum of money, which his mother paid. He often alluded to this in after-life, thinking it fortunate that he had lost rather than won. After this, his health improving, he was placed with a private tutor. He never learnt any lessons, but he was always foremost in his class. Again iris nalth failing, he returned home ; and he now began to form a small Kbrary, and was in the habit of walking all about London in search of cheap books. He had long been a great reader of novels, and his father, who had a very retentive memory, was fond of reciting Shakespeare in his evenings at home. On January 24, 1840, his father died, after an illness of four weeks, and his last words were addressed to his son when he called him to his bedside, a few minutes before his death, ' Be a good boy to your mother.' Young Buckle was immediately seized with a fainting-fit and taken out of the room. For some months after this he was attended by his physicians, and had frequent attacks of fainting, with great prostration of strength. His mother, then in delicate health, was advised both for herself and her son to try entire change of scene and climate, and in July 1840 his mother, his unmarried sister, and himself left England, and remained a year abroad. His health improved wonderfully, and during that time he studied the language* and the literature of the various countries he visited, wa always at his books, and kept regular and early hours. On his return to England he continued to study languages, and in 1841, his mother writing to him says, 'I am glad that you continue your Dutch master.' In the spring of 1843 h e was presented at the English court, and immediately afterwards left England in company with a friend, and visited many of the capitals of Europe. In the autumn of the same year his sister married, and immediately after- wards his mother left England to join her son in Munich, where he had been laid up with a severe attack of rheumatic gout. She re- mained with him until the spring of 1844, when they both returned to England, and his mother again settled in London. He then began to collect his extensive library, and his diary shows how regular his habits and hours were. He delighted in dinner-company and good talk. He never danced ; had no taste for music. He disliked horse exercise, and, though ordered when he was young to ride for his health, would never ride alone, as he said he forgot he was on horseback ; and on one occasion, when riding with Mrs. Hutchinson, one of his sisters, at Hastings, he was so entirely absorbed with his own thoughts that he allowed his horse to take him into the library on the Parade. He had no taste for the country or country pursuits ; and although his health was delicate he liked no place but London. He was fond of walking alone, as he used to say that he could talk to himself. He made BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 5 few friends, and rather disliked strangers ; and though he was affable to everyone, he only admired talent, and what he called ' good talk.' He was fond of children, and would play with his own nephews and niece in a simple and childlike way. His disposition was kind, and in many letters written to one of his sisters there breathes much love, sympathy, and kindheartedness. He had an aunt, his mother's last surviving sister, to whom he was much attached ; also a favourite cousin ; and though he disliked letter-writing, and used to say it was great waste of time, he never forgot his near relatives. He was very methodical, careful, scrupulously correct in accounts and all money matters, and could calculate the expenses of any household. He was just in all his dealings, and although he disliked being called charit- able, as it is termed, there are many who can testify to his kindness. He was always ready ' to help those who helped themselves,' but he would never 'let his left hand know what his right hand doeth.' His mother died in April 1859, and through her distressing illness she had but one thought her children, and more especially her son, who was her friend and companion. In the frequent wanderings of her mind for many months before her death she was always cheerful and collected when her son came into her room, so that he could not see her imminent danger, and even on the day of her death he was un- willing to telegraph to the family ; and when it was only a matter of hours or perhaps minutes, he was still sanguine. But the hour came ; and the great man was prostrate. He had lost in that mother every- thing that made his home happy. During the remainder of that year he was a constant wanderer. He visited his friends, and later in the year his sister. A heavy domestic affliction which befell the family at that time weighed heavily on him. The following year his health from time to time was much enfeebled, and in 1861, feeling still wretched and unsettled, he made up his mind to leave England. On October 20 in that year he left Southampton for Alexandria ; and on May 29, 1862, died at Damascus of fever. From this outline of Mr Buckle's life it will be seen that at the age of nineteen he was free to choose a career for himself; and that he then spent a year on the Continent with his mother, and on his return to England continued the study of languages which he had begun abroad. He appears to have known something of Latin, nothing of Greek, and to have had some knowledge of French, German, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Russian, and Danish. It was probably during this period, between the age of nineteen and twenty-one, that he formed a determination out of which grew, in time, the work by which he became known. The most 6 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE interesting passage in the whole of his Journals is that in which he notes down this resolution : Saturday, October 15, 1842. Being this day settled in my new lodgings, No. I, Norfolk Street, I determined to keep a journal of my actions principally, for the sake of being able to review what I have read, and consequently to estimate my own progress. My reading has, unfortunately, been hitherto, though extensive, both desultory and irregular. I am, however, determined from this day to devote all the energies I may have, solely to the study of the history and literature of the Middle Ages. I am led to adopt this course, not so much on account of the interest of the subject, though that is a great inducement, but because there has been, comparatively speaking, so little known and published upon it. And ambition whispers to me the flattering hope that a prolonged series of indus- trious efforts, aided by talents certainly above mediocrity, may at last meet with success. Ten days afterwards he reviews his own progress in reading : The sketch then of the history of France during the Middle Ages has occupied me just ten days. But then on one of those days I did not read at all, and, besides that, I am now in better train for reading than I was at first, so that I think on an average I may say eight days will suffice in future for each history. It is my intention to go first in this hasty and superficial way through European history of the Middle Ages, and then, reading the more elaborate works, make myself as much a master of the subject as is possible, considering the meagre information we at present possess. The works from which he had during these ten days been employed in gathering a general view of French history in the Middle Ages (from Clovis to Charles VIII.) were Hallam, Gibbon, and Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopedia, and this passage in his Journal is remarkable, for it shows him anticipating, as it were, at the very outset of his task, the remarks which fifteen years later were so very generally made on the character of the authorities referred to in the notes to his published book authorities which are certainly not more, and are generally less, deserving the name of ' elaborate ' than Gibbon and Hallam. This expression, too, of ' elaborate works,' as indicating what at that time he expected to find, is very curious, especially when taken in conjunction with his thinking he could make himself master of the subject by reading ' elaborate ' works. He cannot have failed very soon to BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 7 find out that few or no more elaborate works than those of Gibbon and Hallam exist in any literature, and accordingly it is precisely these and works of the same description to which he ultimately was content to refer in his own book. And no reader even of these works can fail to be aware of the original authorities, besides that we have plenty of evidence that he was acquainted with their general characteristics even when he had not read them. It cannot, therefore, have been by accident or ignorance that he paid so little attention to them. It can scarcely have been from negligence either, since in the fifteen years that elapsed between this first serious devotion of himself to historical study and the completion of the first volume of the work he ultimately designed, we find him devoting time to subjects such, for instance, as phrenology a knowledge of which few historians would think necessary to fit them for writing history. l It seems likely that, in fact, he soon discovered that the bent of his own mind was deductive. There is little trace of his ever having exercised his mind much on facts at first hand : people, things and events, society, nature, art, science, and even politics, seem to have had their main interest for him after they had been chronicled, and even grouped for him by other minds. He evidently preferred to use his own original powers of thought on the materials that had been amassed by other thinkers ; and we may conjecture that it was this preference, whether conscious or not, that led him to transform his early scheme of a history of the Middle Ages into a design for a history of civilization. At what time it was that this change in his plan took place we have not been able to meet with any evidence to show. There is some reason to suppose that he formed other and intermediate plans between the two, and that at one time he thought of writing a history of the sixteenth century, at another of writing a history of the reign of Elizabeth. It is plain that from the first he did not confine himself strictly to the Middle Ages, for on March 7, 1843, occurs the entry in his Journal, ' Began my Life of Charles I.' And he seems to have worked at this for several hours a day for three weeks. What he then wrote is, possibly, probably even, what will be found under the head ' Charles I.' in vol. ii. of the Common Place Books. In July 1850 occurs the entry, 'Finished 1 January 27, 1852. I intend now to begin the study of phrenology, to determine its bearings upon the philosophy of history. Journal. S BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE that part of Somers' Tracts which relates to my history of Elizabeth.' And in January 1855 he mentions 'the account of Hooker and Chillingworth which I wrote about five years ago.' Hence it is most probable that the chapters on the reign of Elizabeth, printed in the present volume, were written about the year 1850, when he was twenty-nine years of age ; but it is not certain whether he wrote them with the intention of their forming part of a larger work, or whether he meant them for a history of the reign of Elizabeth only. Already in 1842 he had begun the practice of writing those copious abstracts which constitute his Common Place Books, and at which he used to work for several hours a day. The reader will notice that, in these, verbatim extracts, abstracts of matter, and original remarks of his own are very much mixed up together, apd in making these on one point of interest after another he may have been sometimes led to plan writing on one subject, and sometimes on another. There is, however, one entry in his Journal, re- specting his reading, which seems to point to the direction his mind was taking : June 24, 1850. Read Simon's Animal Chemistry. The more I read of this great work the more delighted I am, particularly at the new views it opens to me, and of which Simon seems to have no idea, I mean the connection between his researches and speculations, and the philosophic history of man. From this it may be inferred with tolerable certainty that it was during these eight years from 1842 to 1850 that his gradually amassed knowledge of the great outlines of modern history, together with the experience he was acquiring of the tendencies of his own mind, led him to the choice of his subject. His literary style seems also to have been completely formed by this time, for all its main characteristics are to be found in the fragments on the reign of Elizabeth, written at least as early as 1850. One of its most marked characteristics, and one which principally contributes to its energy and, above all, to its pic- turesque charm, is his frequent use of those metaphors and of those rhetorical forms of speech to which all the world is ac- customed, and which have become commonplaces in the language. In the last century this was more common than it is now, for writers then talked a great deal more about ' an elegant simplicity,' or a ' severe taste,' or ' purity of style ' than they practised it. But BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 9 at the present time the dread of criticism makes the style of most of our writers very colourless ; and, unfortunately, when anyone has a taste for fine language, he generally thinks it necessary to invent it for himself, by which means he is pretty sure to be incom- prehensible and affected, without always succeeding in being fine. There is much to be said in favour of using, in prose at least, the metaphors, the pathos, and the grandiloquence to which all the world is accustomed, and to which all the world attaches much the same sort and amount of meaning. These things are, like legendary and religious or national traditions, common ground for all men's imaginations ; they touch that second nature which makes all who speak the same language, kin. Like proverbs, these common- places have got into common use just because they were apt and happy expressions fitted to bring a meaning home to most people's minds ; and a man may easily go farther and fare worse in seeking to replace them by some original turn of his own. When anyone talks, for instance, of ' bearding the lion in his den,' all the world knows what is meant to be conveyed ; and (what is no less important) all the world receives at once an impression of something grand and uncommon. It is true we are so used to the phrase that we may forget to ask whether the lion has got any beard, and may apply it, as Mr. Buckle has done in the case of Queen Elizabeth, to someone who certainly had not But a writer may very well trust to correcting these little oversights when he revises his work, whereas certainly no one ever put vigour into his style as it passed through the press. We know that Mr. Buckle was fond of reading aloud and reciting poetry, and that he was, in after-years, fond of reading Shakespeare aloud, as his father had been, from whom, perhaps, he may have acquired the taste. We know also that he greatly admired and studied Burke ; and it may be questioned whether a style so brilliant and so clear as his is not always founded more or less on oratory. The Greeks the greatest masters of style produced the greatest orators, and must have formed their ideas of style rather upon spoken than on written speech. The master- pieces of French literature were immediately preceded by a series of great preachers, while in England and in Germany the drama led the way to the most brilliant periods of the national literature. The wonderful group of English ' poets (Shelley, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, and Byron, not to speak of lesser lights), who IO BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE shone on the beginning of the nineteenth century, had been preceded by Garrick, Siddons, Kemble, Kean, Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheridan, who must have made.it difficult for those who had heard them to forget altogether that language is meant to be spoken. The statement of Mr. Buckle's sister, that in his child- hood he was addicted to preaching sermons, is in this point of view of interest in connection with his fondness for Burke and Shakespeare. It is in the year 1851 that there occurs the first evidence of his having decided on the form his ' book ' was to take. May 12, 1851. Went to talk to Petheram about publishing my History of Civilization, which I hope to bring out next year. But although he must already have made considerable progress even to entertain such a hope, no one will be surprised that it was many years before his book was really ready for publication. During the next three years from May 1851 to November 1854 he was continually occupied in writing and re-writing what subsequently appeared as the first volume of his History. Thus, for example, in 1853, he wrote as chapter iii. what afterwards appeared as chapter v. ; in 1854 he re-wrote large portions, such, for instance, as ' the beginning of the view of French civilization ; ' the ' view of the influence of England on the French Revolution ; ' his ' account of the connection between science and the confusion of ranks preceding the French Revolution;' and in July 1854 he mentions that he 'had long had in his mind' the 'physical laws which made the old civilizations superstitious.' At length, in November 1854, he for the second time thought he had his work ready for publication, and on November 25 he says that he hopes to publish vol. i. of 'my work next summer.' Six months more, however, passed before he (in July 1855) 'began at length the great task of copying my work for the press ; ' and a few months later still he ' began to revise spelling in MS.' Copying, revising, and looking out notes, with some few additions to the original matter, occupied him for two years more after the work was substantially finished, before it actually appeared. During these six years, which were probably the happiest of his life, he lived in London, at 59, Oxford Terrace, with the exception of occasional short visits to relations at Brighton, Boulogne, &c., and a few short excursions on the Continent. He BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE II led a very quiet and regular life, noting down day by day in his Journal the number of hours during which he wrote or made entries in his Common Place Books ; the titles of the books he read ; the number of hours he gave to reading, and the number of pages he read in them. All this is put down in the fewest words and the minutest handwriting into which it is possible to compress it, and diversified only by an equally dry and minute statement of the hours at which he rose, took his meals, walked out, &c. Even when he was travelling the Journal is continued in exactly the same form, and never diverges into any remarks on what he saw. One or two examples will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of it. Monday, November 24, 1851, Brighton. Rose at 8. Walked half an hour and then breakfasted. From 10.5 to 12 read German. From 12 to 1.30 read Mill's Analysis of the Mind, i. 66-140. Walked one hour and a half, and from 3.40 to 4.30 made notes from Leigh Hunt's Autobiography. From 4.30 to 6.20 read Lord Lyttle- ton's Memoirs and Correspondence, i. 246, to vol. ii. p. 580 (the paging of the two volumes is continuous). Dined at 6.30. In bed at 10.20, and to 11.30 read Beattie's Campbell, ii. 61-236. Another Saturday, May 19, 1855, 59, Oxford Terrace. Rose at 8.30. Walked half an hour and then breakfasted. From 10.40 to 1.50 finished the chapter in which I pass from physical laws to inquire into metaphysical resources. Walked one hour and a half, and from 5.30 to 7.10 finished Transactions of Asiatic Society, iii. pp. 138-585. Dined at 7.15. In bed at 10.40, and to 11.40 read Journal Asiatique, i. serie x. 82-335. The only entries I have found in any part of his Journals of his having taken the advice of a friend respecting any of his literary work occur shortly before the publication of his first volume : ' April i, 1857. Altered part of Chapter XII. which I had sent to Miss Shirreff to revise.' And again ' April 7, 1857. Made some alterations in Chapter XIV. suggested by Miss Shirreff.' Even before the publication of his book his own health seems to have shown signs of overwork, and this, along with the gradually failing health of his mother, occasionally caused him some sad forebodings, as we find from some of his letters. 12 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE June 30 [1856!. I will not be so affected as to conceal from you that I am a little alarmed, and at times very depressed to think that with such large hopes I have such little powers. My head is at times weak and slightly confused, but it goes off (the feeling, not the head I will have my joke) again directly. They tell me I have nothing to fear, and I am not apprehensive except of my future. To break down in the midst of what, according to my measure of greatness, is a great career to pass away and make no sign this, I own, is a prospect which I now, for the first time, see as possible, and the thought of which seems to chill my life as it creeps over me. Perhaps I have aspired too high, but I have had at times such a sense of power such a feeling of reach and grasp and, if I may so say, such a command over the realm of thought, that it was no idle vanity to believe that I could do more than I shall now ever be able to effect. I must contract my field maybe I shall thus survey the ground the better, and others may not miss what to me will be an irretrievable loss since I forfeit my confidence in myself. From this and from other passages in his letters, as well as from that we have already seen from his Journal where he sets down his intention to devote himself to a great task, it is evident that the love of fame vvas very strong in him. There is another passage in a letter written by him from Jerusalem, little more than a month before his death, which throws some additional light on what his feelings were before the publication of his book, but which removes some of the sadness of his early death, as it shows that he himself was able to look back with complacency upon what he had achieved. Speaking of a friend whose health was much impaired, he said (Jerusalem, April 16, 1862), 'Poor fellow ! It is sad under any circumstances to feel the brain impaired ; but how infinitely sadder when there is nothing to compensate the mischief ; nothing to show in return. Nothing, if I may so say, to justify it.' One cannot help seeing that he felt that in his own case there was, as he expresses it, something ' to show in return.' Several of his letters written about this time shortly before the publication of his book are very interesting. Tunbridge Wells, July 27 [1856]. The air here is really so fine, and my mother is so much improving in it, that I am almost beginning to like the country. A frightful and alarming degeneracy ! Pray God that my mind may be preserved to BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 13 me and that the degradation of taste does not become permanent. I am as well as ever, and, I think, as busy as ever deeply immersed in comparative anatomy, the dryness of which I enliven by excur- sions into free will and predestination. I find that physiology and theology correct each other very well, and between the two reason holds her own. Boulogne sur Mer, December 22 [1856]. Fortunately I only feel weak physically, and am as fit for head work as I ever was. This is a great comfort to me, and I am only sorry not to get on with my first volume, though if I were in town I should probably feel the fatigue too much of moving and opening books, and verifying my notes. Dr. Allatt strongly urges my putting aside my first volume for the present. To lose another season would be a great vexation for me ; and then, too, these early checks make me think mournfully of the future. If I am to be struck down in the vestibule, how shall I enter the temple ? [London] January 19 [1857]. Being somewhat deranged, if not altogether mad, at finding I had time to spare, I went out in the afternoon to enjoy myself, which I accomplished by playing chess for seven hours and difficult games too. I have not been so luxurious for four or five years, and feel all the better for it to-day. Brighton, March i [1857]. Pray take example from your former state, and also from mine, and proceed gradually. I should never have been as I am now but for an eager desire to save this season. Indeed, I was getting half ashamed at constantly putting off what I was perhaps too ready to talk about. However, all this is past, and comparing one month with another, I certainly am not losing ground, so that I have every right to suppose that diminished labour will be rewarded with increased strength. It is also partly to this period of his life that some reminiscences refer which have been furnished by the lady whose judgment we have seen so highly valued by Mr. Buckle ; and, although these reminiscences will anticipate what I have to say of a later period, I shall make no apology for offering them to the reader as they were written, without either transposition or alteration : It was in the spring of 1854 that we first made acquaintance with Mr. Buckle. The intimacy became so close, and occupied so large a place in our lives while it lasted, that it seems strange, on looking back, to realise how short a time actually witnessed its beginning and 14 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE its close. His mother's death, in 1859, his altered mode of life in various ways subsequent to that, and serious illness in our own family, which withdrew us in great measure from society, had indeed relaxed our intercourse even before the great close of Death fell upon it ; and thus the period during which we were in the habit of frequently meet- ing or corresponding was little more than five years. Three years later, he who had been the life of our circle lay helpless and friendless among strangers, and the utterances of his genius were hushed for ever in that silence nothing mortal can break. Never, perhaps, among men who have made a name and left their stamp on the thought of their generation has anyone enjoyed so sudden a blaze and so brief a span of glory. From obscurity he sprang into sudden fame, and before men had reached the point of dispassionate criticism or appreciation of what he had done he had passed away from among us. But with his fame in the world, with the brief record of his life, such as the unusually scanty materials may allow it to be written, I have nothing to do here ; my purpose is only to comply, so far as I can, with the request made to me to record a few personal recollections of him, a few personal impressions of character ; contributions, whose insufficiency none can feel so strongly as I do myself, towards the portraiture of one who, had he lived, would assuredly have stamped his image in ineffaceable characters on the memory of men. A valued friend of ours had known Mr. Buckle and his mother for some time, and paid us the compliment of thinking we should appre- ciate him, unknown as he then was to the world. Accordingly he arranged a dinner-party for the purpose of making us acquainted. It was a house in which good conversation was valued, and where consequently guests contributed their best. Talk flowed on, mostly on literary or speculative subjects, and Mr. Buckle was brilliant and original beyond even what we had been led to expect. His appear- ance struck us as remarkable, though he had no pretension to good looks. He had fine eyes, and a massive, well-shaped head ; but pre- mature baldness made the latter rather singular than attractive ; and beyond a look of power, in the upper part of the face especially, there was nothing to admire. He was tall, but his figure had no elasticity ; it denoted the languor of the mere student, one who has had no early habit of bodily exercise. The same fact could be read in his hand, which was well-shaped, but had that peculiar stamp that marks one trained to wield a pen only. Unfortunately, the delicacy that had kept him as a boy from school teaching had excluded him from school play as well ; and while by his own indomitable perseverance he had made up in later years for the one loss, the other was never compen- sated for, and to the end of his life he could only do with effort, and BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 1$ often could not do at all, things that to other men are mere matters of course. This want of active power was seen in his gait and move- ments. In society his manner was very simple and quiet, though easily roused to excitement by conversation ; and we found later that in intimate intercourse a boyish playfulness often varied his habitually earnest conversation on the great subjects which were never long absent from his thoughts. That first meeting led to many others, at our own house or among friends ; quiet evenings or long afternoon talks, in which he some- times was led to forget the rigid method of his hours. It was less easy to know his mother, for she was even then an invalid ; but he was very eager to bring us together, and succeeded ere very long in doing so. The acquaintance thus begun rapidly extended to all our family circle, grew into intimacy with other members of our family, and ripened into one of those friendships which are not reckoned by years, but are felt early in their growth to be beyond the power of time to alter. In the course of that spring we spent several weeks in the neigh- bourhood of London, and Mr. Buckle, like other friends, was invited from time to time to spend a day with us. We did not know then what a rare exception he was making in his habitual life when he came down before luncheon and stayed with us till the late evening. Pleasant days they were ; and, like a boy out of school, he seemed to enjoy strolling in the garden, rambling in Richmond Park, roaming also in conversation over every imaginable subject, and crowding into the few hours of his visit food for thought, and recollections of mere amusing talk, such as weeks of intercourse with others can seldom furnish. Deeply do I regret, as I have often had occasion before to regret, that I am utterly devoid of that power which some possess of reproducing conversation ; even immediately afterwards I am unable to recall the exact words, or even to give the full bearing of what has passed ; and at this distance of time I feel that the least attempt to represent what such intercourse was would be colourless and vapid ; an abstract of discussion or a dry repetition of anecdotes which apropos made delightful. The interest and the charm of conversation are like the fleeting lights and shadows on a landscape, and what they add to the beauty can never be rendered, however faithful the sketch ; so per- haps it is no loss to the reader after all that the sketch itself is beyond my power. Another and still more unusual break in Mr. Buckle's habits was a day spent with us at the Crystal Palace, then lately opened, which he always said he never should have seen but for our taking him, and which he never revisited. It was a day more rich in many ways than mortal days are often allowed to be. We were a large party, all 1 6 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE intimates, and all ready for enjoyment, and for the kind of enjoyment which the Crystal Palace offered for the first time. It was a lovely summer's day, and the mere drive some miles out of London for there was no noisy, whistling railway then was a delight. The art collections were not so full, the flowers not in such rich luxuriance as they have been since ; but there was a charm about the fresh beauty of the place, and in the new views of popular enjoyment that it offered, which added to the pleasure then, something which more than loss of novelty has since impaired. We were not altogether disabused at that time of the illusions of a new era of peaceful progress which the first Exhibition of 1851 had seemed to inaugurate. It is true that we were even then in the first stage of the Crimean war ; but many still believed that the struggle would quickly end ; the glorious days, the dark months of suffering yet to come were little anticipated. Still less did any prophetic vision disclose to us the dire future that was to bring the Indian Mutiny, the American war, the battle-fields of Italy and Denmark, of Germany and of France ; or tell us that twenty years after nations had met in amity, and seemed pledged to run a new course of friendly emulation, we should be plunging deeper and deeper into the barbarism which turns the highest efforts of man's skill and inventive power towards producing instruments of destruction. None shared the illusions of that period more fondly than Mr. Buckle. He thought he had reached philosophically, and could prove as necessary corollaries of a certain condition of knowledge and civili- zation, the conclusion which numbers held, without knowing why ; and it was this train of thought which made the opening of ' The People's Palace' interesting to him. Habitually sanguine views of the future combined with intense interest in every democratic move- ment to heighten his enjoyment of what might not otherwise have been greatly to his taste, for his love of art was not keen. This and a want of sensibility to the beauties of nature always seemed to me strange deficiencies in a mind so highly imaginative in other respects ; but so it was. He said he had been very sensitive to both in earlier youth, and had keenly enjoyed the various galleries as well as the grandest mountain scenery of Europe ; but that year by year, as philosophical speculation engrossed him more and more, what only appealed through the outward senses lost its power to move him. It was only for music that he acknowledged never having had feeling or comprehension. But if imagination remained untouched by sound or form, it kindled to everything that roused a human interest. Antiquity, with its revelations of past modes of thought and feeling historical associations all moved him deeply ; and when moved he turned to poetry as to the natural expression of great thoughts ; and it was on BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 17 that day that I first heard him quote Shakespeare. I knew later how often he did so, when carried beyond the tone of ordinary conversa- tion. We had wandered through the different courts, reproducing, in a manner as new then as it was striking, the memorials of the past. From Nineveh to Egypt Greece Imperial Rome Moslem Granada, and Italy through her days of glory to her decline all had been passed in review ; and he then turned, as he loved to do, to the future, with its bright promise of reward to man's genius, and of continued triumph over the blind powers of Nature ; and it seemed but a natural tran- sition from his own speaking, as if still uttering his own thoughts, when he took up Hamlet's words : 'What a piece of work is man ! How noble in reason ! How infinite in faculty ! . . .' His voice and intonation were peculiar ; his delivery was impas- sioned, as if another soul spoke through his usually calm exterior ; and it has seemed to me of many a familiar passage, that I never had known its full power and beauty till I heard it from his lips. In the course of that summer I paid my first visit to Mrs. Buckle, who had taken a cottage at Highgate for a few months. Mrs. Buckle had had a severe illness the previous year, from the effects of which she was still suffering, and from which, indeed, she never entirely re- covered. I may almost say that it permanently affected her son also. It had been his first acquaintance with grief, and with anxiety more trying to the health than grief, and in order to fight against them he had forced himself to work ; but this double strain on the nerves was too much for an originally delicate organisation, and when, startled by some symptoms that occurred immediately after his mother's illness, he consulted her physician, he was ordered immediate and complete rest; and for the time he entirely recovered. When we made his acquaintance, there was no appearance of ill-health about him, but this attack was the forerunner of the state of utter prostration into which he fell a few years later, when the blow he then feared had actually fallen upon him. It was during my visit to Highgate that I made real acquaintance with Mrs. Buckle ; and, apart from her being the mother of such a son, she was a very interesting person to know. It is curious how many people there are on whom their own lives seem to have produced no impression ; they may have seen and felt much, but they have not reflected upon their own experience, and they remain apparently unconscious of the influences that have been at work around and upon them. With Mrs. Buckle it was exactly the reverse. The events, the persons, the books that had affected her at particular times or in a particular manner, whatever had influenced her actions or opinions, remained vividly impressed on her mind, and she spoke freely of her VOL. I. C 18 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE own experience, and eagerly of all that bore upon her son. He was the joy, even more than the pride of her heart. Having saved him from the early peril that threatened him, and saved him, as she fondly believed, in great measure by her loving care, he seemed twice her own ; and that he was saved for great things, to do true and perma- nent service to mankind, was also an article of that proud mother's creed, little dreaming how short a time he was to be allowed even for sowing the seeds of usefulness. A few months at the utmost had been the limit of separation from her that he had ever known, thus the two lives had grown, as it were, one into the other. The ordinary state of things had been reversed in the family, and Mrs. Buckle had sent her daughters to school, while ill-health kept her son at home. Then, as both the daughters married early, no claim had arisen to interfere with her devotion to him. Once he went abroad alone, intending to stay for some time in Germany ; but he was taken ill at Munich, and Mrs. Buckle hurried over to join him. Thus ended the first and last attempt at any real separation. When I said above that Mrs. Buckle spoke freely of her own experience, I should add that her conversation was the very reverse of gossip. It was a psychological rather than a biographical expe- rience that she detailed. I rarely remember any names being introduced, and never unless associated with good. Of all her husband's family, the one she spoke of most often was his nephew, Mr. John Buckle, for whom she had great respect and affection. Henry Buckle also made frequent reference to his cousin's opinions, and had the highest esteem for his abilities and confidence in his friendship. One point in Mrs. Buckle's early experience that she spoke of more than once to me is worth mentioning, as it exercised probably no small influence later upon her son. She had lived at one time surrounded by persons who held strict Calvinistic opinions, which she felt compelled to adopt under their influence. The intense suffering caused by this she could hardly look back upon with calmness, even at the distance of half a lifetime. Views full of terror and despair, with their wild visions of vengeance and condemnation, which have shattered the peace of many a noble mind, wrought into hers a deep- seated misery which no external circumstances could alleviate, and which only passed away when she had conquered her own freedom through years of thought and study. Hence, when she had a young mind to train, her most anxious care was that no such deadly shadow should come near it. She appeared to me to be a person of a naturally strong religious temperament, and the sentiment remained untouched by the fierce struggle she had gone through. Such are, indeed, always the minds that suffer most cruelly under that dire BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 19 form of creed which lighter natures profess without ever seeming to feel the awful scope of the tenets their tongues run so glibly over. In her horror of imposed doctrines, she refrained from teaching dogmatically even such views as were full of hope and consolation to herself. Where her son differed from her, she was content to wait. She had boundless faith in the final triumph of truth, and could trust to it, even when her best-loved was in question ; and that noble sentiment, so prominent in her son's writings, was first inspired by her. If to this precious influence we add that his taste for metaphysical speculation and his love for poetry were also inherited from his mother, we may judge in some measure how much he owed to her. And gladly and fondly at all times did he acknowledge the debt. It was a theme he loved to dwell upon, and it always seemed to me that her presence brought out all that was best in him. In his manner with her he had playful boyish ways, mixed with exquisite tenderness, and later, when the cloud of fear and sadness had fallen upon their intercourse, the feeling of what the past had been seemed to grow deeper still. In one letter, written when she was ill, he says, ' You, who can form some idea, and only some, of what my mother has been to me, may imagine how unhappy I am.' All the notices of Mr. Buckle's life that have appeared have spoken more or less accurately of his delicate health as a boy, which caused him to be a self-educated man. His mother spoke of it often, and in what follows I speak only of what I heard from her. The subject is of importance from its bearing on his after-life, which was more or less coloured throughout by the two facts of his self- acquired knowledge, and his comparative isolation ; both caused by his exclusion from school and college. There was more threat- ening of evil than of present danger in the attacks which led, under medical advice, to his being taken at an early age away from school. She was quite aware that many had thought her foolish at the time, and possibly that some believed she had influenced the medical opinion, or exaggerated its import ; and she left me the impression that her husband had yielded the point, in part at least, as a con- cession to her feelings. She was content to bear any blame that might be thrown upon her in this matter. The doctors had ordered complete cessation of study ; the brain, they said, was to remain absolutely fallow for a time, and she followed their directions implicitly. For years she persevered in the system, making her boy's health her first object, but never losing her hope so well rewarded in the end that with bodily vigour the mental power would assert itself, and overcome the manifold disadvantages entailed by the loss of regular occupation. So complete was the idleness, that to keep him quiet at times she had taught him to knit. It does not c 2 2O BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE appear, from what he used to say of it himself, that he was impatient under this system, or that it was one of painful repression. It may have been that a certain degree of mental lethargy accompanied the physical weakness, and mercifully shielded the faculties which, had they maintained the activity they displayed in early childhood, might never have reached maturity. Before he was trusted with books, his mother ventured to read to him, mostly travels, poetry, or the Bible, and it was from these readings that he dated his passionate love of Shakespeare. Gradually, as time went on, his health improved, and his mind began to work upon many subjects, but not in any regular or studious fashion. The newspapers, taken up casually, then began to stir his attention, and the powerful interest of politics grew upon him, and perhaps biassed the course of his after-labours. His earliest efforts at connected thought took the shape of speculation on free-trade, the principle of which he seemed to have seized as soon as it was presented to him, in the discussions then rife in all the papers. He had no home bias or assistance in forming his opinion, for his father's views were, as I understood, quite different. On one occasion he even grew so excited on the subject as to sit up at night to write a letter to Sir Robert Peel, which, however, he had not courage to send. But the first thing in which he manifested real power was chess, and that to so remarkable a degree that before he was twenty he had made a name in Europe by his playing. Through life it re- mained a great source of pleasure to him, and an afternoon devoted to it from time to time was the form of holiday he most often allowed himself. Seeing him fairly restored to health and giving promise of ability, his father thought it was time that he should begin life in earnest ; and that life was destined by him to be spent, as his own had been, in City business. Mrs. Buckle more than once described to me her dismay when she found it impossible to move her husband from this resolution. Her own tastes were studious, she had watched the growing vigour of her son, and this was not the future she had dreamt for him ; but resistance was vain, and instead of repairing the loss of early education by some course of regular study, he was placed at eighteen in his father's counting-house. At times he looked back with shuddering to the period of weariness that he spent there, but he also owned that it had not been without its use as a strict discipline, after the desultory idleness of his boyhood. 1 What shape 1 I have been lately told that Mr. Buckle only remained three months in the counting-house. However short the time, he attributed to it the effect spoken of above. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 21 his mental activity would have taken had this compulsory drudgery continued, it is vain to conjecture ; the restraint was removed by his father's death before any decided bent had shown itself. He was free then to choose his own path, for Mrs. Buckle's authority was exercised only to protect him from the interference of others. She was left in easy circumstances ; there was no necessity for him either to remain in business or to prepare for a profession ; and she resolved that the life and brain so narrowly rescued from destruction should, in their almost unhoped-for maturity, be devoted only to the career he might choose for himself. The first obvious step was to acquire instruction ; and it was proposed that, after some preliminary study, he should go to college, whence the opening to any liberal profession was secure. But the painful sense of his own ignorance made him most reluctant to adopt this course. His whole acquirements then consisting of little more than reading and writing English and proficiency in chess, it seemed indeed hopeless, within such limits of age as University education commonly embraces, to make up for lost time ; and his growing sense of power, and the new ambition beginning to stir within him, would have ill brooked defeat among his contemporaries. He knew that he had not only to acquire know- ledge, but to learn to be taught one of the most difficult things when the mind has attained a certain point of maturity without having followed any groove of teaching ; and, thus hopeless of success upon the too-long neglected beaten tracks, he determined on choosing a path for himself. His first step was to persuade his mother to go abroad with him, to give him the opportunity of learning foreign languages ; and they accordingly left England and travelled for a considerable time in France, Italy, and Germany. Of this very important period of Mr. Buckle's life there is absolutely no record, and, though both of them frequently spoke of that time, I received no distinct impression of its external circumstances, though a strong one of the mental progress he was making. Often as Mrs. Buckle loved to dwell upon that subject, it would have been easy indeed to have learnt all we now so much wish to know ; but who then could dream that within a few short years we should be recording mere recollections of one so full then of life and hope, the youngest of our little knot of intimates ? It was, perhaps, careless, and much do I regret it, but so it was. I learnt the history of his intellect, of the history of his outward life I learnt little. To study he gave himself with ever-increasing ardour. Languages, ancient and modern, were his first object ; then history and metaphysics ; finally, but not perhaps till later, mathematics and physical science. And as he studied, the bent of his mind became more and more marked, and his repugnance to enter into a 22 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE profession that must claim his time and thought for other objects more and more decided. It was, as he said to me, a strange reve- lation to himself when he found that the knowledge he sought ceased to present itself as a means, and became an object in itself. And stronger and stronger the feeling grew in proportion as he cast the slough of his long-enforced ignorance. At first he probably grasped at all he could reach with the mere eager delight of the earnest mind seeking truth, but seeking it vaguely in all directions ; gradually, however, as thought expanded, the sense of power grew, and the faculty of original speculation awoke. Then all his seemingly desultory studies were co-ordinated to one definite purpose, and that purpose, the gigantic project of setting forth in one connected view the various paths through which the human intellect has worked its way, and won for our practical life that fulness and freedom which we call civilization ; seeking through the records of history to make manifest in the march of human progress that same empire of law which physical science discloses in the material universe. This immense undertaking appears to have dawned upon his mind ere yet he had completed the studies that were to supply the blank of early instruction ; and a few years after he left England an ignorant boy he had begun in resolute earnestness to prepare for the work to which he devoted his whole after-life, with unswerving conviction and energy of purpose. And if, in thus early framing such a scheme, we may think we see something of the vaulting ambition and san- guine self-confidence of untried youth, it was with no youthful neglect of means, no hasty or scanty preparation, that he contemplated beginning his task. And as he went on, no man was perhaps ever more fully prepared for labour on so extensive a field. He was reproached after the publication of his first volume with errors in this or that particular subject ; and from Bacon to our own day the same has been said of all men who survey wide fields of knowledge to seek out the principles that underlie many different branches, or that may overarch the limited truths which seemingly keep them divided. Such men can rarely, if ever, possess the thorough knowledge of the specialist in the one department to which he devotes himself. It was necessary for Mr. Buckle not to linger over the details of science, but to range over extensive provinces ; to master, if possible, every fruitful principle ; to learn the methods of science and philosophy, in order to trace their influence on the progress of knowledge and civilization ; and to find the basis of those wide generalisations on which his theory rested. Accordingly, within these limits there was perhaps no branch of science that he had not studied, of which he had not followed the history and tracked the important threads of discovery. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 23 In metaphysical research his purpose was the same ; from the earliest Greek to the latest German he had read with this aim of seizing in each system the master thought which had influenced the minds of men, which had formed schools, or tended to shape the practical philosophy or political life of nations. In literature, in like manner, it was no mere scholarship that he sought or valued ; but he desired to trace the peculiar development of intellect through the various forms of different languages and different social conditions. And for this purpose he made himself acquainted with most of the languages of Europe, and had thoroughly mastered, for the purposes of reading at least, all, whether ancient or modern, that possess a literature to be studied. 1 Of eastern languages Hebrew was the only one he had acquired. He always looked forward to the time when he should have leisure to study Sanscrit, which his intense interest in what a great master of the subject has called ' the science of language ' made him earnestly desire to learn. In our own literature he was profoundly versed, and, though he seemed to read for the matter only, he could appreciate the prose as acutely as any who make literary criticism their principal aim. Pages of our great prose writers were impressed on his memory. He could quote passage after passage with the same ease that others quote poetry, while of poetry itself he was wont to say, ' It stamps itself on the brain.' Truly did it seem that, without effort on his part, all that was grandest in English poetry had become, so to speak, a part of his mind. Shakespeare ever first, then Massinger, and Beaumont and Fletcher, were so familiar to him that he seemed ever ready to recall a passage, and often to recite it, with an intense delight in its beauty which would have made it felt by others even naturally indifferent. Whatever the subject of his study, it was always as part of the history of human development that it acquired its chief interest to him. Literature, science, philosophy, however engrossing singly, occupied him as part of a great whole ; and the mode of co-ordi- nating all those various branches of knowledge was his chief concern. Accordingly, all the great masters of method had been his especial study, from Aristotle, Bacon, and Descartes, to Comte and Mill. The latter, of all living writers, he held in highest esteem, and through his own work may be traced that great thinker's influence, together 1 Mr. Buckle had extreme difficulty in acquiring a foreign pronunciation. French, which he could speak fluently, it was painful to hear him attempt. In German, my own unpractised ear could not have detected this defect, but he used himself to laugh over his signal failure in speaking Dutch after he hoped that he was rather successful. Travelling in a railway-carriage in Holland, he ventured to try his powers of conversation with a gentleman, who, after a time, remarked that he was sorry he did not know Italian 1 24 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE with that of Comte, to whose faults he was far from blind, but whose merits he had earnestly appreciated at a time when he was little known in England. It may seem that in thus speaking of Mr. Buckle's aims and studies I am departing from the sphere of mere personal recollections to which I had limited my contribution to the present volume, but this is not really so. With himself and with his. mother, conversation continually turned upon these matters. It is the impression left by those long hours of intimate intercourse that I strive, however feebly, to reproduce, and when I remember that, of all he hoped to achieve, an unfinished introduction one truncated fragment of the fair pyramid he trusted to erect is all the world has before it to pro- nounce judgment upon, I feel that some record of those towering hopes, and of the assiduous labours by which he thought to realise them, is not out of place in a friend's personal recollections of him. Those were pleasant, quiet days in the little Highgate cottage ! Days of unvarying routine, but a routine in which walks over a beau- tiful country, and long evening hours of talking, and reading out loud, had their place, and there seemed a new fulness of life to myself in coming in contact with the overflowing vitality of Mr. Buckle's intellect. He was then writing his first volume, which was not pub- lished till nearly three years later. Sometimes at his mother's sug- gestion he would read parts of it to us in the evening, and there are passages of that volume which still read to me like a chapter from that old life so utterly past and gone ! The home routine with which I then became first acquainted was ordered with a view to study and to health. He believed extreme regularity to be no less essential, in his own case at any rate, for the latter than for the former. Every hour was systematically disposed of, whether for work, exercise, or relaxation ; and he so carefully respected the rules he laid down for himself that they were in very rare cases departed from. His health always requiring care made many things important to him which others can easily dispense with, and thus gave an appearance of somewhat effeminate ease to his daily life ; but I am convinced that he acted in these matters upon prin- ciple, though he may have been mistaken. Exercise was essential to him. He walked every morning for a quarter of an hour only before breakfast, and used to say that, having adopted this custom upon medical advice, it had grown such a necessary habit that he could not work till he had been in the air. Heat or cold, sunshine or rain, made no difference to him either for that morning stroll, or for the afternoon walk which had its appointed time and length, and which .he rarely would allow himself to curtail, either for business or visits. He used to say that he did not know the sensation of mental fatigue, BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 2$ that he could have gone on working hours beyond his fixed time without any immediate discomfort ; but previous illness had left its warning, and he knew that he dared not overtask his brain ; thus he worked with his watch on the table, and resolutely laid aside his occupation when the appointed hour came. After his duly measured walk he returned to his library to read till dinner-time ; and he always retired early in the evening, reading again for a certain time, but not far into the night, for he required many hours' rest, and was fortu- nately a good sleeper. One of his curiously minute habits, which he appears never to have omitted for years, was that of recording in a diary the exact manner in which the day had been spent, even to the number of pages he had read in a given time. No doubt this prac- tice was begun as a check upon early desultory habits, and was con- tinued perhaps almost mechanically. He was a smoker, and, though a very moderate one as compared with many, it was so imperious a necessity with him to have his three cigars every day that he said he could neither read, write, nor talk, if forced to forego them, or even much to overpass the usual hour for indulging in them ; and as he could not smoke when walking, the effort being too great for him, he never went to stay in any house where smoking indoors was objected to. More than one house that never tolerated a cigar before, bore with it for his sake. But at the time I am speaking of he rarely paid any visits except to his own relations, to one of his sisters, married to Dr. Allatt, and living at Boulogne, with whom he and his mother generally spent some weeks every year ; or to a sister of Mrs. Buckle's at Brighton, where, I believe, he became known in society earlier than in London. He also stayed several times in the country with some of my family, but it was not till after his mother's death that he visited more generally, and seemed glad to escape from his lonely home to be among those who knew and valued him enough to let him follow his own ways. When there were children in any house that he frequented, he noticed them very much, and they grew fond of him. His strong interest in education made him the confidant and counsellor of more than one anxious mother. The child he was most attached to was one of his own nephews, whose great promise he often spoke of ; and the poor boy's death, which happened soon after his mother's, grieved him most deeply. The method by which a man works is always interesting as an indication of character : it may be well, therefore, to mention what I remember of Mr. Buckle's. It was chiefly remarkable for careful systematic industry and punctilious accuracy. His memory appeared to be almost faultless, yet he took as much precaution against failure as if he dared not trust it. He invariably read with a paper and 26 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE pencil in his hand, making copious references for future consideration. How laboriously this system was acted upon can be appreciated only by those who have seen his notebooks, in which the passages so marked during his reading were either copied or referred to under proper heads. Volume after volume was thus filled, written with the same precise neatness that characterised his MS. for the press ; ranging over every subject to which his omnivorous appetite for knowledge had led him, and indexed with care, so that immediate reference might be made to any topic. But carefully as these extracts and references were made, there was not a quotation in one of the copious notes that accompanied his work that was not verified by collation with the original from which it was taken. Mr. Buckle had made a very close study of style with a view to forming his own. He had not only analysed the styles of our best English writers, but carefully compared the peculiarities and merits of the best French writers with our own. He was, accordingly, a severe critic, and it was a valuable lesson to hear him dissect an ill-con- structed sentence, and point out how the meaning could have been brought out with full clearness by such or such changes. While studying style practically for his own future use, he had been in the habit of taking a subject, whether argument or narrative, from some author, Burke for instance, and to write himself, following of course the same line of thought, and then compare his passage with the original, analysing the different treatment so as to make it evident to himself when, and how, he had failed to express the meaning with the same vigour, or terseness, or simplicity. Force and clearness were his principal aim, and accordingly in his book, though eloquent passages are rare, there is not a feeble page, nor a sentence that requires a second glance to be understood. ' It is the most perfect writing I know for a philosophical work,' was the remark made to me by one of the most eminent men of our day, and I was proud to find such an opinion agreeing with my own. Industry and patience were the two qualities on which he prided himself, and which he unceasingly preached to others. In speaking of what he had done or intended doing there was little said or implied of confidence in superior power ; systematic work and patient thought were, he said, the great engines by which he had conquered difficulties. I have before me now a letter that he wrote to a friend, who had con- sulted him about a projected work of wide scope, and requiring no small knowledge ; it is characteristic both of his way of looking at an arduous undertaking, and also of his prompt kindness in responding to the call for advice. He writes : ' I shall keep your MS. (the scheme of the work in question) till I see you, and I want to turn over the subject in my mind. At present I see no difficulty that you BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 2/ cannot conquer. Great preliminary knowledge will have to be acquired ; but, speaking hastily, I should say ten or twelve years would suffice. The main thing will be to study economically, letting no time run to waste. I need not assure you that all that I know, and have, and can, will be at your disposition.' Nor was this an idle form of words. Nothing roused his sympathy more completely than the efforts of another mind to reach or to spread knowledge. This was to him the great pursuit of life, and he wearied not in giving help to any who sought his aid with an equally earnest spirit. Time, books, advice, the result of his own studies, all would be freely given for such a purpose. At a time when he was most fully engaged he voluntarily undertook the revision of a friend's MS., laying aside his own occupa- tion for a considerable time daily, to go through a minute and tedious labour of criticism. Mental sympathy had been to himself a blessing of every hour ; he sought it frankly, and seemed to depend on receiv- ing it with an almost naive confidence which had a charm of its own, though it perhaps denoted his scanty dealings with the world. But he also gave sympathy in full measure, and his manner of showing it was among the things that made his friendship as valuable as his society was delightful. Doubtless his mother's influence, the feeling of all he owed to her intellectually, as well as for her devoted care and love, led him to value the mental sympathy and companionship of women. He had learnt through her a keen appreciation of what their peculiar intellectual qualities so commonly neglected ought to do for society, and the feeling which prompted his choice of a subject, the only time he ever spoke in public, was easy to be understood by all who had watched mother and son together. But facts were strangely distorted when it was said that he did not care for men's society because he was spoiled by women, who fed his vanity. I can answer for the first of these statements not being true, for I know how he delighted in the conver- sation of men who were the least likely to concede a single point to him except in fair argument. With regard to the latter, it is some- what too vague to be met. I would only remark that, if a man who has nothing of that brilliant exterior which might dazzle a certain class of women is a favourite among us, it must be for some qualities that we recognise as worthy, and do not often find among men. Women may, and too often do, to their own bitter cost, utterly mis- take a man's character, because large phases of his life are hidden from them. They may be as little able to estimate his virtues as his vices, and, in ignorance of the world, are liable to condemn too severely as well as to praise too highly. But in what comes within their ken they are not so easily deceived, for women are close observers, and they more often pity and forgive the faults of men than 28 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE remain blind to them. When, therefore, a mere student is welcomed and valued among women, we may be sure there is a solid foundation for it. In Mr. Buckle's case one attaching quality may have been extreme gentleness, which, when united with power, whether mental or physical, always has a peculiar charm for women. Whatever the cause, however, of Mr. Buckle being a favourite with women (a fact generally adduced, I remark, by other men as a sort of reproach), he did not owe it to the halo of fame, which is supposed to be so irresistible to our hero-worshipping sex ; for his most valued female friendships were, with one exception, formed before his name was known to the world ; and I may venture to assert that the. intercourse with those friends was on that footing of perfect confidence and free- dom which excludes the base idea of flattery as completely as any other treachery to friendship ; and letters might be published proving the candid spirit in which he met criticism freely offered, and even grave disapproval, expressed with all the frankness of honest regard. Mr. Buckle's rigid mode of life, his frequent refusal to break through it for any of the claims of society, was often the subject of comment ; and he was not spared the reproach of selfishness, so lavishly brought against all whose self requires something different from the self of those who are criticising. I am writing no panegyric, and could not if I would decide how far he really was amenable to the reproach ; but I will say that in this respect, at any rate, his selfish- ness was of a rare and high order, and might rather be called by a better name. He would not allow anything to interfere with the course he had laid down for himself; but that course was one which he felt to be worth his best efforts, and he knew how much care was requisite to enable him to sustain those efforts. And if he set aside the claims of society and the pleasure of others, he set aside no less rigidly things that afforded the highest gratification to himself. For instance, from the time he began to write he never allowed himself to play a match at chess. One that he had played against the famous Lowenthal, and in which he won four games out of seven, took more out of him, he said, than he would give to any such frivolous triumph again. I happened to be staying in the same house with him I think in 1858 when earnest solicitation was made to him to play a match at some great chess congress that was to take place shortly, and I witnessed the severe struggle it was to refuse it. 1 mention this as an illustration of the principle on which his rigid habit was founded : namely, the determination to shape his own life, as far as an originally feeble constitution would allow ; never, as he said himself, to be the slave of habits such as men drift into without knowing why, but to avail himself of the whole force of habit to work BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 20 out his own purposes. And the purpose of his life was his book. It had been the dream of his youth, gradually assuming shape through years of solitary study ; it was the task of his manhood, for which every other object that might have tempted his ambition was renounced ; and it dwelt in his last conscious thoughts when life, with all its unfulfilled hopes and baffled schemes, was passing away ! Though at the time I am speaking of years seemed to stretch out before him, he knew that his tenure of health was such as to make many a sacrifice necessary in order to attain that object, and he was willing to make every sacrifice except that of his mother's comfort. To conform himself to his mode of life was no sacrifice to her, though many may doubtless have thought so ; but they forgot that she also lived for his book with a singleness of devotion which was touching to witness. This intense earnestness of pursuit was part of his power. It might offend the idle, or occasionally weary at a dinner-table, where lighter subjects of conversation would have been more acceptable ; but it seized upon those who lived with him more intimately, and it may safely be said that no mind at all alive to intellectual impressions ever was brought into much communion with his, without being in some small measure interpenetrated with his spirit ; without feeling the grandeur and power of truth, and the littleness of mere worldly success compared with the lofty objects to which the lover of know- ledge may aspire. His life was a standing protest against the low views of knowledge which so widely prevail in this country, which taint our systems of education from the highest to the lowest, and gauge every exertion of man's intellect by its market price. What the real worth of Mr. Buckle's speculations, and whether he overrated them or not, is not for me to examine ; but I do know that having, as he believed, attained some valuable principles, some glimpses of truth not hitherto recognised, such a possession was to him the call to an apostleship in as true and earnest a sense as ever was realised by missionary or philanthropist. He believed, as they do, that men should not ' put their light under a bushel,' but rather so toil as to place it where it shall light up the dark corners of the earth. Widely, indeed, did he differ from them as to the means of doing good among men, but he was not the less kindled by the noble desire that by his labours he might leave the world better than he found it. I have wandered far from, my visit to Mrs. Buckle at Highgate. Our life there was too quiet to afford anything to relate, and impres- sions of character, not events, really constitute all I have to recall. When we met again, it was in London ; and the next time I was staying with them it was there. They had been settled for some years in the house in Oxford Terrace which he occupied till he left England 3O BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE on his last fatal journey. It was small, but all the space at the back had been built over, making one good-sized room, lighted by a sky- light, and this was Mr. Buckle's library. There were indeed books all over the house, but in this room was arranged the largest part of his splendid collection, perhaps the largest any private student ever made in a few years for his own use. For his library was for use only ; he did not seek rare editions, or any of the curiosities of litera- ture that have such a charm for the book collector, and he was often content with a cheap second-hand copy, and delighted with a bargain at a book-stall. His tastes would naturally have led him to form a library, but his health made it almost a necessity. His high-strung nerves required absolute quiet and privacy while he worked, and reading in public libraries was almost unendurable to him. This reminds me to notice a point on which some slighting remarks have been made about his book. He is reproached with never quoting original documents, ranging among well-known authors and neglect- ing the sources of historical knowledge. I will answer first what my remarks above recalled to my mind, that he confessed he never could have borne the fatigue of studying MSS. The effect upon his sight, and through the eyes on the brain, was such that a short time of such work would have unfitted him for anything, therefore he doubly re- joiced to feel that no such labour was needful for his purpose. It was not tried and laid aside, but deliberately neglected, because printed matter supplied in abundance all the materials he wanted. It was not his province to examine into the accuracy of this or that particular document, or to search for proofs for or against the received version of individual conduct or national transactions. All he wanted was the great outline of history, which furnished him with the data for some of his speculations, and the proof of others. It was the broad history of nations that he sought to illustrate, and erudite researches would have afforded him no assistance. The accusation has been brought against him as a slight upon his literary industry ; but it only proves that those who brought it knew neither the man nor the scope of his work. Mr. Buckle was very fond of society, and, as long as his mother's health permitted her to do so, she gathered pleasant parties in their house, where talk flowed freely, and wit and wisdom were equally appreciated. Later, when Mrs. Buckle could no longer receive, he had occasional dinner-parties of men alone ; but the numbers were larger, and I used to hear from himself and others that they lacked the charm of the former social meetings. The brilliancy of Mr. Buckle's conversation was too well known to need mention ; but what the world did not know was how entirely it was the same among a few intimates with whom he felt at home as it was at a large party BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 3! where success meant celebrity. His talk was the outpouring of a full and earnest mind, it had more matter than wit, more of book -know- ledge than of personal observation. The favourite maxim of many dinner-table talkers, ' Glissez, mats riappuyez pasj was certainly not his. He loved to go to the bottom of a subject, unless he found that his opponent and himself stood on ground so different, or started from such opposite principles, as to make ultimate agreement hopeless, and then he dropped or turned the argument. His manner of doing this unfortunately gave offence at times, while he not seldom wearied others by keeping up the ball, and letting conversation merge into discussion. He was simply bent on getting at the truth, and if he believed himself to hold it he could with difficulty be made to under- stand that others might be impatient while he set it forth. On the other hand, it is fair to mention that if too fond of argument, and sometimes too prone to self-assertion, his temper in discussion was perfect ; he was a most candid opponent, and an admirable listener. The faults of his conversation, such as they were, might be traced, like many other peculiarities, to his secluded life. He did not possess that knowledge of society which comes from practical intercourse with men, and which often gives such zest to the talk of barristers or politicians, or even mere men of the world. He had lived too much alone, or at least his graver life had been too solitary. He knew most of what was written, he often did not know enough of what was said and done. He was versed in the tenets of philosophical and religious and political sects, as they have existed and worked in the past ; he was not always sufficiently awake to the various forms of life and opinion existing around him. He had not been forced, as most men are, in the actual contact of the working world, to see, and learn to appreciate at their real value, influences foreign to his own life. And what his own experience did not teach him, he could not learn through others, as he might have done had he possessed that wide circle of familiar acquaintance which surrounds a man who has passed through school and college, and belongs to a profession or a party. This social disadvantage, entailed by his early ill-health, told even in graver matters ; and some things by which he gave offence would perhaps never have been said or done had he lived in the close inti- macy of school or college friends, where the frankness of boyish days often lives as a privilege long after it has ceased to be the natural habit of life. In many ways the influence of self-education and of a retired home life was apparent in the tone of Mr. Buckle's opinions and character. Had it been possible to write a real biography of him, it must have afforded the most interesting illustrations of two important points the influence of self-training on a powerful mind, and the. 32 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE influence of a mother on her son. As it is, those who knew them can feel how much there was of both, but have no means of making it evident to others. Having won everything by his own exertions, and never tried his strength against others, he sometimes appeared to underrate, sometimes to overrate, the common average of ability and of attainments. Accordingly, in his work we occasionally find points elaborately dwelt upon and enforced by repeated quotation, which few would have been inclined to dispute ; and occasionally, on the other hand, a belief in the ready acceptance of some principle which the majority of men are still far from acknowledging. A man who had gone through the normal routine of education and of life would not, even with half his ability, have fallen into these mistakes. On another point he judged others too much by his own standard. To himself, recognising a truth and accepting it as a principle to be acted upon, were one and the same thing ; and I believe it was his ignorance of the world that made it hard for him to admit how feebly in general men are stirred by an appeal to their understanding. The very common inconsistency between opinions and practice which perhaps saves as much evil in one direction as it causes in another was so foreign to his own mind that he often failed to allow for it. The profession, for instance, of intolerant views in religion or politics made him look upon the persons who professed them as if they were prepared to carry them into practice, as perhaps they might have done in times when the symbols of their religious or political allegiance had a living power among men. He gave one signal proof of his uncompromising mode of judging matters of this kind in his severe strictures on Sir John Coleridge, 1 which caused deep pain to many of his friends, and to none more than to myself. Every form of intolerance roused the intolerant spirit in him ; for he could not forgive that anyone should pretend in dealing with his fellow-men to abridge that perfect freedom of thought and speech which, to himself, was the most precious inheritance of an era of knowledge and civilization. On one other point only I have known Mr. Buckle to depart from his habitually indulgent view of the conduct of others. This was extravagance or disorder in money matters. A man who could endure debt was to him not only wanting in rigid uprightness, but almost incurred his contempt for the unmanly feebleness he thought it indicated. His strong feeling on this subject, and his 1 In a review upon J. Stuart Mill's work on Liberty, published in Eraser's Magazine, May 1859. The earnest letters of remonstrance that I wrote to him at the time were, I suppose, destroyed ; his answers I kept, and portions of them at least will be published here ; they give what he considered his own justification ; they also illustrate the spirit in which he met opposition. , BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 33 adherence to the maxims of political economy as regards charity, were perhaps partly the cause of his being considered close and fond of money. It requires a very accurate acquaintance with a man's private affairs to substantiate or rebut such an accusation, and it does not concern me to do either. I speak of my own recollection only, and I have known of kind and liberal offers made by Mr. Buckle, which, in the case I allude to, were repeatedly urged in spite of refusal. It must also be remembered that his delicate health enhanced the value of money to him by rendering a certain scale of comfort and even of luxury so indispensable that without it no mental exertion would have been possible. At any rate, if he loved money, he loved knowledge more. With his abilities none can doubt that golden success might have been his had he gone to the bar, for instance, or turned his attention to any lucrative employment ; but he deliberately preferred the moderate independence which left him free to follow his own pursuits. And never yet did such pursuits pay any man the money's worth of the time he has devoted to them. The public, hearing now and then of large sums paid to an author, straightway forms a magnificent notion of the profits of literary labour, and yet never, perhaps, except to the successful novelist, was literary labour profitable. Even in the few cases which form appa- rent exceptions to this rule, the element of time is left out in the popular estimate. But if we consider the men who alone are capable of producing a great work, and remember what such men might probably have made in business or in a profession during the ten, fifteen, or twenty years of life that have been spent in studious preparation, and in the slow ripening of thought and speculation, it is evident that no work of real value ever can find its money price. The writer may be paid in coin more precious to him than gold and silver, but at least let no such man be reproached with a sordid love of wealth. In the summer of 1855 I had promised to pay a visit to Mrs. Buckle at Hendon, where they had moved according to their annual custom of leaving London early in the season ; their choice of a summer residence being governed generally by consideration of an easy journey for her, and easy access for him to his library whenever some fresh supply of books should be needed. But my visit was hindered by Mrs. Buckle being taken seriously ill. His letters at that time were full of alarm for her and of general discouragement ; he was not strong enough to react against depression, and it was fortunate, therefore, that in the ordinary state of things after this illness he got used to his mother's invalid condition, and only at times was roused from his false security by some fresh symptom. I went abroad for some months, and we did not meet till the winter ; VOL. I. D 34 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE the painful change in Mrs. Buckle was very apparent then to unaccustomed eyes. In 1856 he began to prepare his first volume for publication. Whether this volume should or should not appear alone had been the subject of much discussion, and it was Mrs. Buckle's earnest wish, founded on her own sense of her precarious term of life, that finally prevailed. His own intention had been at least to finish the Introduction before he gave any portion of his work to the public. He felt no impatience about it. Engrossed with his labour, and con- fident of power, he was content to wait. In the words of one who, though strenuously opposed to his opinions, yet paid a graceful tribute to his memory, 'he knew that whenever he pleased he could command personal distinction, but he cared more for his subject than for him- self. He was content to work with patient reticence, unknown and unheard of, for twenty years, thus giving evidence of qualities as rare as they are valuable.' l But his mother knew too well that she could not afford to wait. During the spring and summer of 1856 she was more ill, and had a more general sense of failing than she would allow him to know. She kept up her courage and her spirits for his sake, lest he should be diverted from his work. I was staying with them for a short time at Tunbridge Wells, and daily she betrayed to me her knowledge that her days were numbered, and her anxiety to see her son take his right place in the world. She had had no vulgar ambi- tion for him ; she had been content that he should hide his bright gifts in their quiet home so long as the serious purpose of his life required it ; but now that it was partly attained, that a portion of his work was ready, she grew eager to see those gifts acknowledged before she herself went forth to be no more seen on earth. Chapter by chapter, almost page by page, had that first volume been planned with her, commented by her ; every speculation as it arose talked over with her ; and now her mind was oppressed with the fear that she might never know how those pages, so unutterably precious to her, would be welcomed by those whose welcome would crown her beloved with fame. Yet, to spare him, she never would betray in his presence the real secret of her growing impatience ; only when we were alone she would say to me, ' Surely God will let me live to see Henry's book ; ' and she did live to see it, and to read the dedication to herself, the only words there that she was unprepared to meet. Mr. Buckle told me he bitterly repented the rash act of laying the volume before her to enjoy her surprise and pleasure ; for he was alarmed at her agita- tion. Even the next day, when showing it to me, she could not speak, 1 Froude's lecture, delivered at the Royal Institution, February 1864, and pub- lished in the volume of Short Studies on Great Subjects. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 35 but pointed with tears to the few words that summed up to her the full expression of his love and gratitude. She thus saw her ardent wish gratified, and her impatience was but too well justified. The second volume was dedicated to her memory alone ! But to return to the motives which determined Mr. Buckle to publish a single volume. I wish to speak of them, for probably these were never understood ; but to do so I must say a few words of the book itself. The plan of his Introduction required that, after laying down these principles of his method, and enumerating the laws he believed to have governed the course of human progress, he should illustrate these principles from the history of those nations in which certain tendencies had predominated. The first volume the only one then ready contained his theory. The histories of Spam and of Scotland were to furnish a portion of the requisite illustrations of the theory, and the remainder were to be drawn from the social con- dition and intellectual development of Germany on the one hand, and of the United States on the other. For the portion relative to Spain and Scotland he was prepared ; but he held that he was not com- petent to work out the other "^thout spending some time in the coun- tries to be studied. This, however, would have involved a lengthened separation from his mother, which, in her condition, he could not encounter ; and this consideration finally decided him to publish what was ready, and wait for the remainder till he should be able to accom- plish his purpose. Friends combated his view of the necessity of this delay ; they reminded him of the mass of information he had collected and might yet collect from books ; but he was not to be moved. The United States especially could not, as he believed, be studied thoroughly through books, and no argument could induce him to hurry over his work or be content with any less laborious investigation than he him- self felt to be desirable. Neither would he leave England in the pre- carious state of his mother's health. He would wait and work, if needs be, for years ; he had work enough before him, but he would not slur it over, nor, on the other hand, bring upon her and him- self the bitter anxiety of a long separation. Thus ft happened that the materials which he considered necessary for completing the mere introduction to his work never were collected ; for when he was-, all too soon, free to follow his own wishes, he was too much broken down to travel for any serious purpose. And of a plan so gigantic an un- finished introduction was all he lived to accomplish. It has been judged as a work it was only a fragment. Of the body of the work itself, for which he had amassed considerable materials, he wrote nothing, though doubtless some fragments found among his papers,, and since given to the public, were roughly sketched out for it. It was in the summer of 1856 that Mr. Buckle determined to 02 36 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE publish his first volume. So little did the sagacity of publishers foresee its success that no admissible offer was made for it, and he resolved on publishing it at his own cost. He did so, and the volume appeared early in 1857. Sanguine as had been the anticipations of friends who had seen the MS., the result far exceeded them. His circle of acquaintance had been gradually enlarging, still it was a comparatively small one, and strictly private ; he did not till some time after belong even to a club. He had never tried his strength in reviews or magazines ; once only, to help a friend, he had offered to review a work, but the offer of the unknown writer was refused, and thus not a line from his pen had ever been seen till this volume of 800 pages, purporting to be the first of a long work, took the public by surprise. He sprang at once into cele- brity ; and singularly enough, considering the nature of the book, he attained not merely to literary fame, but to fashionable notoriety. To his own great amusement, he became the lion of the season ; his society was courted, his library besieged with visitors, and invitations poured in upon him, even from houses where philosophical specula- tion had surely never been a passport before. To himself, as to the public, his previous obscurity added to the glare of his sudden triumph ; but it is pleasant to remember that he was unaltered by his changed position. Such as he was before, such he remained afterwards. He enjoyed it, indeed, freely and frankly, all the more, probably, because no school or college competition, no professional struggles, had given him before an assured place among his contemporaries. He had been proudly confident in his own power, and he felt a natural pleasure in seeing it for the first time publicly acknowledged ; but his mind was too earnestly bent on what he yet hoped to achieve to dwell with complacent satisfaction on the social distinction won by past exertion ; and in the first flush of his triumph he refused the most flattering invitations to different parts of the country, in order to spend the few weeks of absence from his mother with friends in a small country parsonage, where his time was divided between study, playing and talking with children, and long evening conversations, into which he threw the same richness and animation as if the most brilliant circle had been gathered round him. It was the same the following summer (1858), when I was again, and for the last time, staying in the same house with him. The intervening months, while he was enjoying the new and valuable society to which his book had introduced him, entering into corre- spondence with eminent men at home and abroad, preparing a second edition which was rapidly called for, and working at his second volume these months so spent had been very bright and happy but for the increasing anxiety about his mother. She had now BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 37 given up all society ; even intimate friends rarely saw her, and gradually she was unable more and more to join in any conversation with him, or even to hear him talk. Some of his letters during this time were full of gloomy despondency ; then again he seemed to persuade himself that she would yet recover. It was during a bright interval that we met, as I said above, and I never saw him more full of fun and spirits, more eager about his work, or more ready to take an interest in that of others. In the following spring the long- dreaded blow fell at last : Mrs. Buckle died, and he seemed stunned as by an unexpected calamity. But it is needless to dwell upon that dark time, especially as I scarcely saw him. After a while he went among strangers, but it was long before he could bear to be with those who had been the chosen companions of happier days. In some painful letters he expressed that feeling so strongly as to make us cease to press him. From that time I have little to record. He prepared and published his second volume, he returned ta the world, he went more into general society, and accepted invitations into the country now that no home considerations fettered his movements ; but our old frequent intercourse had been altered, partly by circumstances in our own family, which made us live more retired, while he was a great deal out of town; and all through both the summers of 1860 and 1861, wandering about from place to place in hopes of recovering the effect of overwork that he was suffering from. He had been severely tried by preparing his second volume for the press, and would not rest till it was done. It was published early in 1861, and then it seemed for a time as if he could never rally working-power again. In the autumn of that year he began to talk of going to the United States, but all who cared for him felt that he was unfit for a journey which was to be connected with serious study ; and partly to divert him from it, a friend suggested Egypt, that he had often wished to visit. The plan delighted him from the first ; his arrange- ments were soon made, and vainly did we protest against some of them, which we felt were incompatible with his state of health. He dined with us the last night but one that he passed in London, and we parted, never to meet again ! The story of that fatal journey has been often told. At first all went well. He wrote little, but his few letters spoke of intense enjoyment. We measured the benefit he had derived by the physical exertion he was able to make, and especially by his willingly encoun- tering the extreme fatigue of crossing the Desert of Sinai. Such an exertion was so contrary to all his former habits that his successful accomplishment of that expedition seemed like the promise of re- newed and more vigorous youth. The spring of 1862 came ; \\e 38 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE looked forward to the pleasure of seeing him among us again, and to the far deeper pleasure of seeing him resume his interrupted labours, when the fatal news reached us, and we knew that a solitary grave in the far East had closed over all our hopes over all his visions of earthly fame ! We must now return to the epoch of the publication of the first volume of the History of Civilization in England. Early in the year 1857 the author made arrangements with Mr. Parker, the publisher, to publish his work on commission, and at length, on June 9, 1857, he entered in his Journal : 'Looked into my Volume L, of which the first complete and bound copy was sent to me this afternoon.' His own account of the intended scope of the book, and his own estimate of various passages in it, have been preserved in several letters and in one or two passages of his Journal : The fundamental ideas of my book are : ist. That the history oi every country is marked by peculiarities which distinguish it from other countries, and which, being unaffected, or slightly affected, by individual men, admit of being generalised. 2nd. That an essential preliminary to such generalisation is an enquiry into the relation between the condition of society and the condition of the material world surrounding such society. 3rd. That the history of a single country (such as England) can only be understood by a previous investigation of history generally. And the object of the Introduction is to undertake that investigation. I may fairly say that I have bestowed considerable thought on the general scheme, and I think I could bring forward arguments (too long for a letter) to justify the apparently disproportionate length of the notices of Burke and Bichat. 1 As to the French Protestants, I am more inclined to agree with you, though even here it is to be observed that general historians represent the struggle between Pro- testants and Catholics as always a struggle between toleration and intolerance ; and as I assert that the triumph of the Catholic party in France has increased toleration, I thought myself bound to support with full evidence what many will deem a paradoxical assertion. . . . I have also worked this part of the subject at the greater length because I thought it confirmed one of the leading propositions in my 1 October i, 1852. Continued writing my account of Burke, which I think will be one of the best parts of the Introduction. Journal. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 39 fifth chapter, to the effect that religious tenets do not so much affect society as they are affected by it. I wished to show how much more depends on circumstance than on dogma. It was therefore useful to prove that though the Catholics are theoretically more intolerant than the Protestants, they were, in France, practically more tolerant, and that this arose from the pressure of general events. 1 I want my book to get among the mechanics' institutes and the people ; and to tell you the honest truth, I would rather be praised in popular and, as you rightly call them, vulgar papers than in scholarly publications. . . . They are no judges of the critical value of what I have done, but they are admirable judges of its social consequences among their own class of readers. And these are they whom I am now beginning to touch, and whom I wish to move. [September 1857.] You remind me that I have not answered your former questions respecting transcendental convictions and the relation between them and religious belief ; the reason of my silence is the impossibility of treating such subjects in a letter. In conversation you would raise difficulties and ask for further information on what seemed obscure, but you cannot cross-examine a letter, and on subjects of such immense difficulty I fear to be misunderstood ; and I shrink from saying any- thing that might give a painful direction to your speculations. In re- gard to books, on this there is nothing in English, and what perhaps I should most recommend are the minor works of Fichte, which I could lend you if you find yourself strong enough in German to master them. The difference between the transcendental operations of the reason and the empirical operations of the understanding is also worked out by Kant, and at the end of my first chapter you will find all the passages collected in which that wonderful thinker applies the theory of their difference to solve the problem of free will and necessity. Coleridge saw the difficulty, but dared not investigate it. Miserable creatures that we are, to think that we offend God by using with freedom the faculties that God has given us ! There is only one safe maxim on these questions, viz. that if we strive honestly after the truth we satisfy our conscience, and having done all that lies in our 1 January 17, 1853. Wrote in my book what I think a fine comparison between Calvinism and Arminianism, as illustrating the influence of Jansenism on the French Revolution. February 2, 1853. Read Comte's Trait^ de Legislation ; a profound work, which has anticipated some views that I thought original upon the superiority of intellect over morals as directing principle of society. Journal. 4O BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE power, may wash our hands of the result. If this maxim be neglected, then investigations will only lead to a life of misery, and had far better be left alone. [January 1858.] You ask me how I reply to the charge of not taking into considera- tion the effect produced by the passions of men on the course cf history. My answer is that we have no reason to believe that human passions are materially better or worse than formerly nor that they are smaller or greater. If, therefore, the amount and nature of the passions are unchanged, they cannot be the cause either of progress or of decay because an unchangeable cause can only generate an unchangeable effect. On the other hand, it is true that the manifesta- tion, and, as it were, the shape of the passions, is different in different periods ; but such difference not being innate, must be due to ex- ternal causes. Those causes propel and direct the passions of men, and these last are (in so far as they are changeable) the products of civilization, and not the producers of it. In my book I always examine the causes of events as high up as I can find them, because I consider the object of science is to reach the largest and most remote generali- sations. But my critics prefer considering the immediate and most proximate causes and in their way of looking at the subject they naturally accuse me of neglecting the study of emotions, moral prin- ciples, and the like. According to my view the passions, &c. are both causes and effects, and I seek to rise to their cause while if I were a practical writer I should confine myself to their effects. But I despair of writing anything satisfactory in the limits of a letter on this subject. [December 1859.] It is impossible in a letter to answer fully your questions on the utilitarian theory of morals. But I do not think that you separate rigidly two very different matters, viz. what morals do rest upon, and what they ought to rest upon. All very honest people who have not any reach of mind regulate the greater part of their moral conduct without attending to consequences ; but it does not follow that they ought to do so. The doctrine of consequences is only adopted by persons of a certain amount of thought and culture, or else by knaves, who very likely have no thought or culture at all, but who find the doctrine convenient. Thus it is that the science of political economy perpetually leads even disinterested and generous men to conclusions which delight interested and selfish men. The evil of promiscuous BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 41 charity, for instance, and the detriment caused by foundling hospitals and similar institutions, is quite a modern discovery, and is directly antagonistic to that spontaneous impulse of our nature which urges us to give, and always to relieve immediate distress. If there ever was a moral instinct, this is one, and we see it enforced with great pathos in the New Testament, which was written at a period when the evil of the instinct (as shown by a scientific investigation of the theory of consequences) was unknown. I have no doubt that when our know- ledge is more advanced, an immense number of other impulses will be in the same way proved to be erroneous ; but even when the proof is supplied there are only two classes who will act upon it : those who are capable of understanding the argument, and those who, without comprehending it, are pleased with the doctrine it inculcates. What is vulgarly called the moral faculty is always spontaneous or at least always appears to be so. But science (i.e. truth} is invariably a limita- tion of spontaneousness. Every scientific discovery is contrary to common sense, and the history of the reception of that discovery is the history of the struggle with the common sense and with the un- aided instincts of our nature. Seeing this, it is surely absurd to set up these unaided instincts as supreme ; to worship them as idols ; to regret the doctrine of consequences, and to say, ' I will do this because 1 feel it to be right, and I will listen to nothing which tempts me from what I know to be my duty ; ' to say this is well enough for a child, or for an adult who has the intellect of a child ; but on the part of a cultivated person it is nothing better than slavery of the understanding, and a servile fear of that spirit of analysis to which we owe our most valuable acquisitions. I wish I could publish an essay on this ! How I pine for more time and more strength ! Since I have been here I have read what Mill says in his Essays, and, like everything he writes, it is admirable but I think that he has done better things. He does not make enough of the historical argument of unspontaneous science encroaching on spontaneous morals, and the improvement of moral conduct consequent on such encroachment. I saw this when I wrote my fourth chapter on the impossibility of moral motives causing social improvement. But here I am getting into another' field, and it is hopeless. . . . Almost directly after the publication of his first volume he applied himself to the preparation of the second, for which, indeed, he had prepared some matter several years before, since in October 1855 he noted in his Journal that he had 'begun and finished ' a ' notice of the history of Spain and the Jnquisi- 42 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE tion, to prove that morals cannot diminish persecution.' He interrupted this work in January 1858, in order to prepare the lecture, on the Influence of Women on the Progress of Know- ledge, which he delivered at the Royal Institution on March 19 of the same year. On January 19 he entered in his Journal that he ' began to write a lecture on the Influence of Women ; ' and he continued to enter, nearly every day, the number of hours (generally from two to four) that he gave to writing it until Feb- ruary 21, when he notes 'finished writing lecture on women.' On the following day he enters ' studied lecture on women ' ; and this entry is repeated several times a week until March 19, when he notes, 'From 10.10 to 1.30 studied Lecture - . At 9 I delivered at the Royal Institution a lecture on the Influence of Women on the Progress of Knowledge. I spoke from 8.55 to 10.25 without hesitation and without taking my notes out of my pocket.' His self-gratulation on not requiring the aid of his notes appears to have produced the mistaken impression in some quarters that he spoke extempore. The next event in his life was the loss of his mother, an event the coming shadow of which had already been gathering for many years. In 1857 he had written to a friend on the occasion of the death of a mother : I have more than once undergone in anticipation what you are suffering in reality, and it has always seemed to me that consolation may be for the dead, but never for the living. Still you are not as I shall be you have not lost all you do not stand alone in the world. In the same year he writes of his mother in other letters : Month after month she is now gradually altering for the worse ; at times slightly better, but on the whole perceptibly losing ground. . . . Nothing remains of her as she once was except her smile and the exquisite tenderness of her affections. I while away my days here, doing nothing and caring for nothing, because I feel that I have no future. In the last three weeks I have been unable to write a single line of my history, and I now confine myself to reading and thinking, which I can do as well as ever, though I am too unsettled to compose. My mother is just the same as when I wrote last, caring BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 43 for nothing but seeing me, though she is too unwell to converse. . . While she is in this state, nothing could induce me to leave her, even for a day, without absolute necessity. She has no pleasure left except that of knowing that I am near her, and as long as that remains she shall never lose it. ... I want change, for besides my anxiety I am vexed, and, to say the truth, a little frightened at my sudden and complete inability to compose. [February 1859.] I am still immersed in Scotch theology, for I am more and more convinced that the real history of Scotland in the seventeenth century is to be found in the pulpit and in the ecclesiastical assemblies. A few days ago I tried to compose, and with better success than previously. I wrote about three pages that morning, and this has given me fresh courage. But it is only after the great excitement of conversation that I can write in the morning. Nothing now stirs me but talk. Every other stimulus has lost its power. I am dining out a good deal, and hear much of my own success ; but it moves me not. Often could I exclaim with Hamlet, ' They fool me to the top of my bent.' On February 6 and 7, 1859, he notes in his Journal that he ' read Mill on Liberty ' ; and two days aftenvards he ' began to arrange notes with a view to reviewing, in Fraser, Mill's new work on Liberty.' With this view he re-read the same writer's System of Logic, Principles of Political Economy, and Thoughts on Parlia- mentary Reform ; and the writing of his own review occupied him for several hours every day for upward of two months. It was while he was thus engaged that the death of his mother took place. 'April i, 1859. At 9.15 P.M. my angel mother died peacefully without pain,' is the record in his diary on that day, on which he had been occupied in the morning in writing his account of the Pooley case; and it was under the immediate impression of his loss that he wrote what he calls ' the evidence of immortality supplied by the affections,' which forms part of his Essay on Mill. In spite of this blow he continued steadily at his work, and did not leave London till he had finished his Essay. Soon after it was published (in Fraser's Magazine) he writes to a friend, who had remonstrated with him on the violence of his attack in it on Mr. Justice Cole- ridge : May 10 [1859]. What you say about my notice of Justice Coleridge does a little surprise me. I knew at the time that most persons would think 44 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE I had shown too much virulence ; but I believed then, and I believe now, that in this case, as in other cases where I have taken an unpopular view (such, for instance, as the absence of dynamical power in morals), those who object to my treatment have not taken as much pains to inform themselves as I have done. You know that I have no personal animosity against Coleridge, and yet I say that, to the best of my judgment, his sentence on Pooley is the most criminal act committed by an English judge since the seventeenth century. Most acts of religious cruelty have been in compliance with the temper of the age ; but here we have a man going out of his way and running counter to the liberal tendencies of the time in order to gratify that malignant passion a zeal for protecting religion. I have felt all I have written ; and I should be ashamed of myself if on such a subject, and with my way of looking at affairs, I had expressed less warmth. Of course I may be wrong ; but it seemed to me that the influence, the name, and the social position of the Judge made it the more necessary to be uncompromising, and to strike a blow which should be felt. ... I believe that the more the true principles of toleration are understood the more alive will people be to the magnitude of that crime. At all events, I know that even if I had used still stronger language, I should only have written what a powerful and intelligent minority would think. And I have yet to learn that there are any good arguments in favour of a man con- cealing what he does think. I never have and never will attack a man for speculative opinions ; but when he translates these opinions into acts, and in so doing commits cruelty, it is for the general weal that he should be attacked. A poor, ignorant, half-witted man, sentenced to be imprisoned for a year and nine months for writing and speaking a few words against the Author of the Christian religion ! And when I express the loathing and abomination with which I regard so monstrous an act, you, my dear friend, ' regret the extreme violence ' of my expressions. To me it appears that your doctrine would root out indignation from my vocabulary ; for if such an act is not to rouse indignation, what is ? With all honesty do I say that I attach the highest value to your judgment, and therefore it is that I should really be glad if you will let me know why you dislike these remarks on Coleridge. [May 13, 1859.] Although I admit the force of all your reasoning, I am not con- vinced by it, simply because our premises are different. We look at affairs from an opposite point of view, and therefore adopt oppo- site methods. My habits of mind accustom me to consider actions with regard to their consequences you are more inclined to consider BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 45 them with regard to their motives. You, therefore, are more tender to individuals than I am, particularly if you think them sincere ; and you hold that moral principles do hasten the improvement of nations ; I hold that they do not. From these fundamental differences between us, it inevitably happens that we estimate differently such an act as the sentence on Pooley. We are both agreed that the sentence was wrong ; but you consider that the Judge, not having bad motives (but who can penetrate the heart and discern motives ?), and not being a bad man, diminishes the criminality of the sentence, and therefore should have prevented me from using such strong language. However, I should prefer resting my view upon grounds still broader than these. As a public writer (not as a private or practical man) I estimate actions solely according to their consequences. The consequence of this sentence I deem far more pernicious than I have been able to state in my essay, because I could not, for want of space, open up all the topics connected with it. Dealing, as I always do, with the interest of masses, and striving to reach the highest view of the subject, I hold that when an act is pernicious, when it is done in the teeth of the liberal tendencies of the time, when the punish- ment far exceeds the offence, when it is not only cruel to the victim but productive of evil consequences as a public example when these qualities are combined in a single transaction, I call that transaction a great crime, and therefore the author of it a great criminal. Now in commenting upon such an act, how should the principal actor be treated ? You say that I should not have used language which one ' gentleman ' would not have used to another in conversa- tion. Here we are altogether at issue. My object was not merely to vindicate the principle of toleration (for that, to all persons of com- petent understanding and knowledge, was done before I was born), but to punish a great and dangerous criminal. Whether I am able to punish is another question. If I am not able, my remarks are ridicu- lous from their impotence, and I have been foolish from incapacity, and not wrong as to intention. That is to say, not wrong in intention unless my way of looking at affairs is wrong ; and this is the very point on which we disagree. At all events, starting with this view (which is precisely the theory of method that underlies everything I have ever written), it formed no part of my plan to use nice and dainty words. Instead of confining myself to writing like a gentleman, I aimed at writing like a man. ... Is it the business of literature to chastise as well as to persuade ? I think it is : and I follow the ex- ample of many who have done the greatest good and left the greatest names. You would have me expose the crime and yet spare the 46 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE criminal. But I cannot stop at the act of oppression ; my mind goes on to the oppressor. And yet you say, ' the personality of the attack is the only thing I regret.' Most truly do I know that you speak out of the very fulness and kindness of your heart ; and I value more than I can tell you a frankness which proves your friendship, if I needed new proof. But I cannot conceal from you that we are in this matter as far asunder as the poles. As an author. I will always say what I think ; and when an act of cruelty comes across my path perpetrated by a powerful and influential man, I will never let conventional and ' gentlemanly ' considerations restrain the indignation which I feel. You also think that I weaken my own influence and consideration by making such an attack ; and in that respect I am inclined to agree with you in part. Many will be offended, but it is not the verdict of London drawing-rooms that can either make or mar a man who has a great career to run, and a consciousness of being able to run it. I would not willingly seem arrogant, but I think you will understand me when I say that I feel that within me which can sweep away such little obstacles, and force people to hear what I have to offer them. For a short time after his mother's death he seems to have been sustained by the excitement of composition ; but the letters he wrote during the following year show that, as is usual where a loss is very great, the sense of it became deeper, with time : [April 1859.] Do not be uneasy about me. I am quite well, and within such limits as are left to me, I am happy. I can work freely and well ; beyond this there is nothing for me to look for except the deep con- viction I have of another life, and which makes me feel that all is not really over. [April 1859.] I remain quite well, but my grief increases as association after association rises in my mind, and tells me what I have lost. One thing alone I cling to the deep and unutterable conviction that the end is not yet come, and that we never really die. But it is a separa- tion for half a life, and the most sanguine view that I can take is that I have a probability before me of thirty years of fame, of power, and of desolation. [Brighton] May 19 [1859]. Here I am, working hard ; and it is my only pleasure, just as the capacity of work and of thought is the only part of me that has not deteriorated.' Strange, that the intellect alone should be spared ! but so it is. The feeling of real happiness I never expect again to know, but I am perfectly calm. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 47 The next letter was written in the midst of illness, and about the time of the death of a young nephew to whom he was attached : [Boulogne, December 1859.] I cannot tell you how I dread the idea of going to London to that dull and dreary house which was once so full of light and of love ! On the other hand, my ambition seems to grow more insatiate than ever, and it is perhaps well that it should, as it is my sheet-anchor. He continued to work steadily at his new volume, and while it was passing through the press he wrote to a friend to whom he sent the proofs: 'I hope you will like the peroration (of Chap. I. vol. ii.) I am hardly a fair judge ; but as a mere piece of English composition, I think it is much the best thing I have written.' But at the very time that he was writing this 'perora- tion,' with which he was so much pleased, he seems to have been suffering, more even than he had done a year before, from the low spirits and weakened health consequent on the loss of his mother. [November 1860.] I see too surely how changed I am in every way, and how impos- sible it will be for me to complete schemes to which I once thought myself fully equal. My next volume is far from being ready for the press, and when it is ready, it will be very inferior to what either you or I expected. After the publication of his second volume (in May 1861), his health gave way still more completely, and in the following autumn he determined to lay aside all literary work for a time, and to try the effect of a winter in Egypt and Syria. This journey seems to have been begun under favourable auspices, and, if we may trust his own letters, it would appear that all his hopes of invigorated strength were realised by it, and that the fever by which it was cut short was purely fortuitous, and not at all the result of his previously weakened health. He was accompanied by the two young sons of a friend, of whom he writes: 'They are very p.easant, intelligent boys, and I delight in young life.' That the friendly feeling was reciprocated we may infer from a sentence in a letter home, in which the boys enunciate the opinion that ' Bucky 's a brick ! ' I cannot tell you,' writes he a few days before leaving 48 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE England ' I cannot tell you the intense pleasure with which I look forward to seeing Egypt that strange mutilated form of civilization. For years nothing has excited me so much.' He left England towards the end of October, and early in November he writes from Alexandria : ' I feel in better health and spirits than at any time during the last three years. Especially I am conscious of an immense increase of brain-power, grasping great problems with a firmness which at one time I feared had gone from me for ever. I feel that there is yet much that I shall live to do.' And again, ten days later from Cairo : ' I am better than I have been for years, and feel full of life and thought. How this country makes me speculate ! ' To the friend whose sons accompanied him he wrote from Cairo : Cairo, November 15, 1861. I feel the responsibility of your dear children perhaps more than I expected ; but I am not anxious, for I am conscious of going to the full extent of my duty and neglecting nothing, and when a man does this, he must leave the unknown and invisible future to take care of itself. And in the same letter he wrote in reply to some questions which had been addressed to him : All I can say is, that the Utilitarian philosophy never allows any- one, for the sake of present and temporary benefits, either to break a promise or tell a falsehood. Such things degrade the mind, and are therefore evil in themselves. . . . The other point is more difficult ; but / would not hesitate to tell a falsehood to save the life of anyone dear to me, though I know that many competent judges differ as to this ; and in the present state of knowledge, the problem is perhaps incapable of scientific treatment. It is, therefore, in such cases, for each to act according to his own lights. From Thebes he writes, on January 15, 1862 : We arrived at Thebes this morning. We have all been, and are^ remarkably well. The journey into Nubia, notwithstanding its many discomforts, was in the highest degree curious and instructive. Not one Egyptian traveller in ten enters Nubia, but, as you see, I felt con- fident in bringing us all well out of it ; and now that we have been there, I would not have missed it for five hundred pounds. I feel very joyous, and altogether full of pugnacity, so that I wish someone would BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 49 attack me I mean, attack me speculatively I have no desire for a practical combat. On his return to Cairo he writes : Cairo, February 7, 1862. We have returned to Cairo all quite well, after a most interesting journey to the southern extremity of Egypt and on into Nubia, as far as Wady Halfeh (the Second Cataract). I feel better and stronger than I have done for years. In about ten days we leave here for Mount Sinai, and intend proceeding thence through the desert to Gaza, and then to Jerusalem by way of Hebron. Fancy me travelling on the back of a camel for seven or eight hours a day for from four to six weeks, and then travelling on horseback through Palestine and Southern Syria ! That I have not already been thrown is a marvel, seeing that among other audacious feats I went from the Nile to Abydos on a donkey with a cloth for a saddle and two pieces of rope for stirrups, and in this wretched plight had to ride between eight and nine hours. To give you any, even the faintest idea of what I have seen in this wonderful country, is impossible. No art of writing can depict it. If I were to say that the temple of Karnac at Thebes can even now be ascertained to have measured a mile and a half in circumference, I should perhaps only tell you what you have read in books ; but I should despair if I were obliged to describe what I felt when I was in the midst of it, and contemplated it as a living whole, while every part was covered with sculptures of exquisite finish, except where the hiero- glyphics crowded on each other so thickly that it would require many volumes to copy them. There stood their literature, in the midst of the most magnificent temples ever raised by the genius of man. I went twice to see it by moonlight, when the vast masses of light and shade rendered it absolutely appalling. But I fear to write like a guide-book, and had rather abstain from details till we meet. One effect, however, I must tell you that my journey has produced upon me. Perhaps you may remember how much I always preferred form to colour ; but now, owing to the magical effect of this, the driest atmosphere in the world, I am getting to like colour more than form. The endless variety of hues is extraordinary. Owing to the trans- parency of the air, objects are seen (as nearly as I can judge) more than twice the distance that they can be seen in England under the most favourable circumstances. Until my eye became habituated to this, I often over-fatigued myself by believing that I could reach a certain point in a certain time. The result is a wealth and exuberance of colour which is hardly to be credited, and which I doubt if any painter would dare to represent. . . . VOL. I. E 50 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE If you were here, and felt as I do what it is to have the brain every day over-excited be constantly drunk with pleasure you would easily understand how impossible much letter-writing becomes, and how impatient one grows of fixing upon paper ' thoughts that burn. But, as you know of old, if my friends were to measure my friendship by the length of my letters, they would do me great injustice. He reached Jerusalem on April 13, 1862, and in a letter written a few days later he gives the following account of the journey : Jerusalem, April 16 [1862]. We arrived here three days ago, after a most fatiguing and arduous journey through the whole desert of Sinai and of Edom. We have traversed a deeply interesting country, visited by few Europeans and by none during the last five years, so dangerous was the latter part of the journey reputed to be. But I had taken my measures before venturing to go beyond Sinai, and, gradually feeling my way, secured, as I went on, the protection of every leading sheik, having studied at Cairo their relative power and position. Having an ample stock of provisions, I was prepared at any moment to fall back and return, if need be, to Egypt. Three other parties, chiefly Americans, joined us at Sinai, each having their separate establishment arranged with their own dragoman, but all, for greater safety, keeping together till we reached Hebron. We were in all sixteen persons, and with our servants and escort we numbered no armed men. Nothing but a combination of tribes could hurt us ; and such a combination I con- sidered to be morally impossible in the face of the precautions which I suggested, and to which, after some demur, the other parties agreed. When I say ' morally impossible,' I mean the odds were so large as not to be worth the consideration of a prudent man. There were several alarms, and there was undoubted danger ; but, in my deliberate judgment, the danger was not greater than would be encountered in a rough sea with a good vessel and a skilful captain. Some of our fellow-travellers were in great fear two or three times, and assured me that they had no sleep on those occasions. For my own part I never was kept awake ten minutes. . . . The result is that we have seen Petra as wonderful and far more beautiful than anything in Egypt. Burkhardt, about forty years ago, was the first European who ever set foot there, and since then, not more, probably, than a hundred persons have seen it that is to say, have really seen it as we did, at leisure, and spending three whole days there. Occasionally gentlemen with- out tents, and with no food but what they can carry on their own horse, gallop from Hebron to Petra (about one hundred and twenty miles) in two days and a half, reaching Pe^ra in the evening, seeing it by moon- BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 51 light, and then gallop back again before the Bedouins and Fellahin are aware of their presence. The English and other consuls and the Governor of Cairo, with other persons of influence, all declared that this was the only way I could see Petra ; but the hardship of the journey, and the risk of sleeping in the open air, prevented me from thinking for a moment of such a plan. Among the English here the journey has created quite a sensation, and the result is one of many proofs which have convinced me of the profound ignorance of officials in the East of everything which their eyes do not see. I had to collect all my facts through an interpreter, but I analysed and compared them with something more than official care and precision. Having done so, I acted ; and I look back to this passage through Petra from Egypt as by far the greatest practical achievement of my life. I be- lieve that you are both laughing, and I am almost inclined to laugh myself. But I am conceited about it, and I think I have reason to be so. For I must moreover tell you that nearly all our party were more or less ill with fatigue, anxiety, and the extraordinary vicissitudes of temperature, . . . but we three had not once the least pain or incon- venience of any kind. . . . The dear little kids are now the picture of health, and we are all as brown as Arabs. . . . The fact is, that we were the only ones who had proper food, and were properly clothed. ... I am far stronger both in mind and body than I have been since you knew me, and I feel fit to go on at once with my work. But I neither read nor write : I think, I see, and I talk. Especially I study the state of society and habits of the people. Cheerfully as he speaks of this journey by Petra, it is probable that the fatigue, excitement, and anxiety he underwent in the course of it laid the foundation of the fever which was so soon to carry him off. He spent eleven days at Jerusalem, and three days after commencing his journey from Jerusalem to Beyrout he was attacked by the first symptoms of illness. He ought at once to have returned to Jerusalem and rested until every sign of illness had disappeared, but unfortunately his energetic and hopeful dis- position prompted him to struggle on, in spite of suffering, until the malady had too tight a hold on him ever to be shaken off. From the first attack at Nazareth, to his death a month later at Damascus, his diary records all the vicissitudes of illness brought on by fatigue and exhaustion. At Nazareth he was attended by an American doctor, and at Sidon by the French resident doctor, of whom he says that he ' turns out to be an intelligent man,' and VOL. I. * E 2 52 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE who told him that what he wanted was rest. Had he taken this advice his life would probably have been saved, but he continued his journey to Beyrout, where he arrived on May 14, thinking himself cured, although ' still very weak.' From Beyrout he wrote cheerfully and full of plans for the future. ' We arrived here to-day, all well ; ' and then he goes into minute details of his plans for spending the summer at Gratz. Nor was it only in his letters, but also in his Journal, that he spoke of himself as ' feeling better ' at Beyrout, and even there rest might yet have saved him. But directly he recommenced his journey his illness returned, and on the day he arrived at Damascus (May 18) he spoke of himself as ' utterly prostrate.' At Damascus he received the utmost kindness from Mr. Sand- with, the English consul, but from this time the fever never left him, and he sank under it on May 29, 1862. His last words were words of kindness to his two young companions. MISCELLANEOUS AND POSTHUMOUS WORKS OF HENRY THOMAS BUCKLE THE INFLUENCE CF WOMEN ON THE PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE. 1 THE subject upon which I have undertaken to address you is the influence of women on the progress of knowledge, undoubtedly one of the most interesting questions that could be submitted to any audience. Indeed, it is not only very interesting, it is also extremely important. When we see how knowledge has civilized mankind ; when we see how every great step in the march and advance of nations has been invariably preceded by a correspond- ing step in their knowledge ; when we moreover see, what is as- suredly true, that women are constantly growing more influential, it becomes a matter of great moment that we should endeavour to ascertain the relation between their influence and our know- ledge. On every side, in all social phenomena, in the education of children, in the tone and spirit of literature, in the forms and usages of life ; nay, even in the proceedings of legislatures, in the history of statute-books, and in the decisions of magistrates, we find manifold proofs that women are gradually making their way, and slowly but surely winning for themselves a position superior to any they have hitherto attained. This is one of many peculiarities which distinguish modern civilization, and which show how essentially the most advanced countries are different from those that formerly flourished. Among the most celebrated nations of antiquity, women held a very subordinate place. The most splendid and durable monument of the Roman empire, and the noblest gift Rome has bequeathed to posterity, is her juris- prudence a vast and harmonious system, worked out with con- summate skill, and from which we derive our purest and largest notions of civil law. Yet this, which, not to mention the immense sway it still exercises in France and Germany, has taught to our 1 A Discourse delivered at the Royal Institution, on Friday, March 19, 1858. (Reprinted from ' Eraser's Magazine ' for April 1858.) 56 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE most enlightened lawyers their best lessons ; and which enabled Bracton among the earlier jurists, Somers, Hardwicke, Mansfield, and Stowell among the later, to soften by its refinement the rude maxims of our Saxon ancestors, and adjust the coarser principles of the old Common Law to the actual exigencies of life ; this imperishable specimen of human sagacity is, strange to say, so grossly unjust towards women, that a great writer upon that code has well observed, that in it women are regarded not as persons, but as things ; so completely were they stripped of all their rights, and held in subjection by their proud and imperious masters. As to the other great nation of antiquity, we have only to open the literature of the ancient Greeks to see with what airs of superiority, with what serene and lofty contempt, and sometimes with what mocking and biting scorn, women were treated by that lively and ingenious people. Instead of valuing them as com- panions, they looked on them as toys. How little part women really took in the development of Greek civilization may be illus- trated by the singular fact, that their influence, scanty as it was, did not reach its height in the most civilized times, or in the most civilized regions. In modern Europe, the influence of women and the spread of civilization have been nearly commen- surate, both advancing with almost equal speed. But if you compare the picture of Greek life in Homer with that to be found in Plato and his contemporaries, you will be struck by a totally opposite circumstance. Between Plato and Homer there inter- vened, according to the common reckoning, a period of at least four centuries, during which the Greeks made many notable im- provements in the arts of life and in various branches of specula- tive and practical knowledge. So far, however, from women participating in this movement, we find that, in the state of society exhibited by Plato and his contemporaries, they had evidently lost ground ; their influence being less then than it was in the earlier and more barbarous period depicted by Homer. This fact illustrates the question in regard to time ; another fact illus- trates it in regard to place. In Sparta, women possessed more influence than they did in Athens ; although the Spartans were rude and ignorant, the Athenians polite and accomplished. The causes of these inconsistencies would form a curious subject for investigation : but it is enough to call your attention to them as one of many proofs that the boasted civilizations of antiquity were THEIR INFLUENCE IN MODERN EUROPE 57 eminently one-sided, and that they fell because society did not advance in all its parts, but sacrificed some of its constituents in order to secure the progress of others. In modern European society we have happily no instance of this sort ; and, if we now inquire what the influence of women has been upon that society, everyone will allow that on the whole it has been extremely beneficial. Their influence has prevented life from being too exclusively practical and selfish, and has saved it from degenerating into a dull and monotonous routine, by in- fusing into it an ideal and romantic element. It has softened the violence of men ; it has improved their manners ; it has lessened their cruelty. Thus far, the gain is complete and undeniable. But if we ask what their influence has been, not on the general interests of society, but on one of those interests, namely, the pro- gress of knowledge, the answer is not so obvious. For, to state the matter candidly, it must be confessed that none of the greatest works which instruct and delight mankind have been composed by women. In poetry, in painting, in sculpture, in music, the most exquisite productions are the work of men. No woman, however favourable her circumstances may have been, has made a discovery sufficiently important to mark an epoch in the annals of the human mind. These are facts which cannot be contested, and from them a very stringent and peremptory inference has been drawn. From them it has been inferred, and it is openly stated by eminent writers, that women have no concern with the highest forms of knowledge ; that such matters are altogether out of their reach ; that they should confine themselves to practical, moral, and domestic life, which it is their province to exalt and to beautify ; but that they can exercise no influence, direct or indirect, over the progress of knowledge, and that if they seek to exercise such influence, they will not only fail in their object, but will re- strict the field of their really useful and legitimate activity. Now, I may as well state at once, and at the outset, that I have come here to-night with the intention of combating this pro- position, which I hold to be unphilosophical and dangerous ; false in theory and pernicious in practice. I believe, and I hope before we separate to convince you, that so far from women exercising little or no influence over the progress of knowledge, they are capable of exercising and have actually exercised an enormous influence ; that this influence is, in fact, so great that it is hardly 58 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE possible to assign limits to it ; and that great as it is, it may with advantage be still further increased. I hope, moreover, to con- vince you that this influence has been exhibited not merely from time to time in rare, sudden, and transitory ebullitions, but that it acts by virtue of certain laws inherent to human nature ; and that although it works as an under-current below the surface, and is therefore invisible to hasty observers, it has already produced the most important results, and has affected the shape, the cha- racter, and the amount of our knowledge. To clear up this matter, we must first of all understand what knowledge is. Some men who pride themselves on their common sense and whenever a man boasts much about that, you may be pretty sure that he has very little sense, either common or un- common such men there are who will tell you that all knowledge consists of facts, that everything else is mere talk and theory, and that nothing has any value except facts. Those who speak so much of the value of facts may understand the meaning of fact, but they evidently do not understand the meaning of value. For, the value of a thing is not a property residing in that thing, nor is it a component ; but it is simply its relation to some other thing. We say, for instance, that a five-shilling piece has a certain value ; but the value does not reside in the coin. If it does, where is it ? Our senses cannot grasp value. We cannot see value, nor hear it, nor feel it, nor taste it, nor smell it. The value consists solely in the relation which the five-shilling piece bears to something else. Just so in regard to facts. Facts as facts have no sort of value, but are simply a mass of idle lumber. The value of a fact is not an element or constituent of that fact, but is its relation to the total stock of our knowledge, either present or prospective. Facts, therefore, have merely a potential and, as it were, subsequent value, and the only advantage of possessing them is the possibility of drawing conclusions from them ; in other words, of rising to the idea, the principle, the law which governs them. Our know- ledge is composed not of facts, but of the relations which facts and ideas bear to themselves and to each other ; and real know- ledge consists not in an acquaintance with facts, which only makes a pedant, but in the use of facts, which makes a philosopher. Looking at knowledge in this way, we shall find that it has three divisions Method, Science, and Art. Of method I will speak presently ; but I will first state the limits of the other two THE MOST IMPORTANT FORM OF KNOWLEDGE 59 divisions. The immediate object of all art is either pleasure or utility : the immediate object of all science is solely truth. As art and science have different objects, so also have they different faculties. The faculty of art is to change events ; the faculty of science is to foresee them. The phenomena with which we deal are controlled by art ; they are predicted by science. The more complete a science is, the greater its power of prediction ; the more complete an art is, the greater its power of control. Astro- nomy, for instance, is called the queen of the sciences, because it is the most advanced of all ; and the astronomer, while he aban- dons all hope of controlling or altering the phenomena, frequently knows what the phenomena will be years before they actually appear ; the extent of his foreknowledge proving the accuracy of his science. So, too, in the science of mechanics, we predict that, certain circumstances being present, certain results must follow ; and having done this, our science ceases. Our art then begins, and from that moment the object of utility and the faculty of control come into play ; so that in the art of mechanics we alter what in the science of mechanics we were content to foresee. One of the most conspicuous tendencies of advancing civiliza- tion is to give a scientific basis to that faculty of control which is represented by art, and thus afford fresh prominence to the faculty of prediction. In the earliest stages of society there are many arts, but no sciences. A little later, science begins to appear, and every subsequent step is marked by an increased desire to bring art under the dominion of science. To those who have studied the history of the human mind, this tendency is so familiar that I need hardly stop to prove it. Perhaps the most remarkable in- stance is in the case of agriculture, which, for thousands of years, was a mere empirical art, resting on the traditional maxims of experience, but which, during the present century, chemists began to draw under their jurisdiction, so that the practical art of manur- ing the ground is now explained by laws of physical science. Probably the next step will be to bring another part of the art of agriculture under the dominion of meteorology, which will be done as soon as the conditions which govern the changes of the weather have been so generalized as to enable us to foretell what the weather will be. General reasoning, therefore, as well as the history of what has been actually done, justify us in saying that the highest, the ripest, 60 -WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE and the most important form of knowledge is the scientific form of predicting consequences ; it is therefore to this form that I shall restrict the remainder of what I have to say to you respecting the influence of women. And the point which I shall attempt to prove is, that there is a natural, a leading, and probably an indestructible element, in the minds of women, which enables them, not indeed to make scientific discoveries, but to exercise the most momentous and salutary influence over the method by which discoveries are made. And as all questions concerning the philosophy of method lie at the very root of our knowledge, I will in the first place state, as succinctly as I am able, the only two methods by which we can arrive at truth. The scientific inquirer, properly so called, that is, he whose object is merely truth, has only two ways of attaining his result. He may proceed from the external world to the internal ; or he may begin with the internal and proceed to the external. In the former case he studies the facts presented to his senses, in order to arrive at a true idea of them ; in the latter case, he studies the ideas already in his mind, in order to explain the facts of which his senses are cognizant. If he begin with the facts his method is inductive ; if he begin with the ideas it is deductive. The induc- tive philosopher collects phenomena either by observation or by experiment, and from them rises to the general principle or law which explains and covers them. The deductive philosopher draws the principle from ideas already existing in his mind, and explains the phenomena by descending on them, instead of rising from them. Several eminent thinkers have asserted that every idea is the result of induction, and that the axioms of geometry, for instance, are the product of early and unconscious induction. In the same way, Mr. Mill, in his great work on Logic, affirms that all reasoning is in reality from particular to particular, and that the major premiss of every syllogism is merely a record and register of knowledge previously obtained. Whether this be true, or whether, as another school of thinkers asserts, we have ideas antecedent to experience, is a question which has been hotly dis- puted, but which I do not believe the actual resources of our knowledge can answer, and certainly I have no intention at present of making the attempt It is enough to say that we call geometry a deductive science, because, even if its axioms are arrived at inductively, the inductive process is extremely small, and we are DIFFERENCE BETWEEN INDUCTION AND DEDUCTION 6 1 unconscious of it ; while the deductive reasonings form the great mass and difficulty of the science. To bring this distinction home to you, I will illustrate it by a specimen of deductive and inductive investigation of the same subject. Suppose a writer on what is termed social science wishes to estimate the influence of different habits of thought on the average duration of life, and, taking as an instance the opposite pur- suits of poets and mathematicians, asks which of them live longest, How is he to solve this ? If he proceeds inductively he will first collect the facts, that is, he will ransack the biographies of poets and mathematicians in different ages, different climates, and different states of society, so as to eliminate perturbations arising from circumstances not connected with his subject. He will then throw the results into the statistical form of tables of mortality, and on comparing them will find that, notwithstanding the immense variety of circumstances which he has investigated, there is a general average which constitutes an empirical law, and proves that mathematicians, as a body, are longer lived than poets. This is the inductive method. On the other hand, the deductive in- quirer will arrive at precisely the same conclusion by a totally different method. He will argue thus : poetry appeals to the imagination, mathematics to the understanding. To work the imagination is more exciting than to work the understanding, and what is habitually exciting is usually unhealthy. But what is usually unhealthy will tend to shorten life ; .therefore poetry tends more than mathematics to shorten life ; therefore on the whole poets will die sooner than mathematicians. You now see the difference between induction and deduction ; and you see, too, that both methods are valuable, and that any conclusion must be greatly strengthened if we can reach it by two such different paths. To connect this with the question before us, I will endeavour to establish two propositions. First, that women naturally prefer the deductive method to the inductive. Secondly, that women, by encouraging in men deductive habits of thought, have rendered an immense, though unconscious, service to the progress of knowledge, by preventing scientific investigators from being as exclusively inductive as they would otherwise be. In regard to women being by nature more deductive, and men more inductive, you will remember that induction assigns the 62 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE first place to particular facts ; deduction, to general propositions or ideas. Now, there are several reasons why women prefer the deductive, and, if I may so say, ideal method. They are more emotional, more enthusiastic, and more imaginative than men ; they therefore live more in an ideal world ; while men, with their colder, harder, and austerer organisations, are more practical and more under the dominion of facts, to which they consequently ascribe a higher importance. Another circumstance which makes women more deductive is that they possess more of what is called intuition. They cannot see so far as men can, but what they do see they see quicker. Hence, they are constantly tempted to grasp at once at an idea, and seek to solve a problem suddenly, in contradistinction to the slower and more laborious ascent of the inductive investigator. That women are more deductive than men, because they think quicker than men, is a proposition which some persons will not relish, and yet it may be proved in a variety of ways. Indeed, nothing could prevent its being universally admitted except the fact that the remarkable rapidity with which women think is obscured by that miserable, that contemptible, that preposterous system called their education, in which valuable things are care- fully kept from them, and trifling things carefully taught to them, until their fine and nimble minds are too often irretrievably injured. It is on this account that in the lower classes the superior quickness of women is even more noticeable than in the upper ; and an eminent physician, Dr. Currie, mentions in one of his letters, that when a labourer and his wife came together to consult him it was always from the woman that he gained the clearest and most precise information, the intellect of the man moving too slowly for his purpose. To this I may add another observation which many travellers have made, and which anyone can verify ; namely, that when you are in a foreign country, and speaking a foreign language, women will understand you quicker than men will ; and that for the same reason, if you lose your way in a town abroad, it is always best to apply to a woman, because a man will show less readiness of apprehension. These, and other circumstances which might be adduced such, for instance, as the insight into character possessed by women, and the fine tact for which they are remarkable prove that they are more deductive than men, for two principal reasons. First, WOMEN NATURALLY REASON DEDUCTIVELY 63 because they are quicker than men. Secondly, because, being more emotional and enthusiastic, they live in a more ideal world, and therefore prefer a method of inquiry which proceeds from ideas to facts ; leaving to men the opposite method of proceeding from facts to ideas. My second proposition is, that women have rendered great though unconscious service to science, by encouraging and keeping alive this habit of deductive thought ; and that if it were not for them, scientific men would be much too inductive, and the pro- gress of our knowledge would be hindered. There are many here who will not willingly admit this proposition, because, in England, since the first half of the seventeenth century, the inductive method, as the means of arriving at physical truths, has been the object, not of rational admiration, but of a blind and servile worship ; and it is constantly said, that since the time of Bacon all great physical discoveries have been made by that process. If this be true, then of course the deductive habits of women must, in reference to the progress of knowledge, have done more harm than good. But it is not true. It is not true that the greatest modern discoveries have all been made by induction; and the circumstance of its being believed to be true is one of many proofs how much more successful Englishmen have been in making discoveries than in investigating the principles according to which discoveries are made. The first instance I will give you of the triumph of the deduc- tive method is in the most important discovery yet made re- specting the inorganic world ; I mean the discovery of the law of gravitation by Sir Isaac Newton. Several of Newton's other discoveries were, no doubt, inductive, in so far as they merely assumed such provisional and tentative hypotheses as are always necessary to make experiments fruitful. But it is certain that his greatest discovery of all was deductive, in the proper sense of the word ; that is to say, the process of reasoning from ideas was out of all proportion large, compared to the process of reasoning from facts. Five or six years after the accession of Charles II., Newton was sitting in a garden, when (you all know this part of the story) an apple fell from a tree. Whether he had been already musing respecting gravitation, or whether the fall of the apple directed his thoughts into that channel, is uncertain, and is immaterial to my present purpose, which is merely to indicate 64 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE the course his mind actually took. His object was to discover some law, that is, rise to some higher truth respecting gravity than was previously known. Observe how he went to work. He sat still where he was, and he thought. He did not get up to make experiments concerning gravitation, nor did he go home to consult observations which others had made, or to collate tables of observations; he did not even continue to watch the external world, but he sat, like a man entranced and enraptured, feeding on his own mind, and evolving idea after idea. He thought that if the apple had been on a higher tree, if it had been on the highest known tree, it would have equally fallen. Thus far, there was no reason to think that the power which made the apple fall was susceptible of diminution ; and if it were not susceptible of diminution, why should it be susceptible of limit? If it were unlimited and undiminished, it would extend above the earth ; it would reach the moon, and keep her in her orbit. If the power which made the apple fall was actually able to control the moon, why should it stop there? Why should not the planets also be controlled, and why should not they be forced to run their course by the necessity of gravitating towards the sun, just as the moon gravitated towards the earth? His mind thus advancing from idea to idea, he was carried by imagination into the realms of space, and still sitting, neither experimenting nor observing, but heedless of the operations of nature, he completed the most sub- lime and majestic speculation that it ever entered into the heart of man to conceive. Owing to an inaccurate measurement of the diameter of the earth, the details which verified this stupendous conception were not completed till twenty years later, when Newton, still pursuing the same process, made a deductive appli- cation of the laws of Kepler ; so that both in the beginning and in the end, the greatest discovery of the greatest natural philo- sopher the world has yet seen was the fruit of the deductive method. See how small a part the senses played in that dis- covery ! It was the triumph of the idea ! It was the audacity of genius ! It was the outbreak of a mind so daring, and yet so subtle, that we have only Shakspeare's with which to compare it. To pretend, therefore, as many have done, that the fall of the apple was the cause of the discovery, and then to adduce that as a confirmation of the idle and superficial saying ' that great events spring from little causes,' only shows how unable such EXAMPLES OF DEDUCTIVE REASONING 65 writers are to appreciate what our masters have done for us. No great event ever sprung, or ever will spring from a little cause ; and this, the greatest of all discoveries, had a cause fully equal to the effect produced. The cause of the discovery of the law of gravitation was not the fall of the apple, nor was it anything that occurred in the external world. The cause of the discovery of Newton was the mind of Newton himself. The next instance I will mention of the successful employ- ment of the a priori, or deductive method, concerns the mineral kingdom. If you take a crystallised substance as it is usually found in nature, nothing can at first sight appear more irregular and capricious. Even in its simplest form, the shape is so various as to be perplexing ; but natural crystals are generally met with, not in primary forms, but in secondary ones, in which they have a singularly confused and uncouth aspect. These strange-looking bodies had long excited the attention of philosophers, who, after the approved inductive fashion, subjected them to all sorts of experiments ; divided them, broke them up, measured them, weighed them, analysed them, thrust them into crucibles, brought chemical agents to bear upon them, and did everything they could think of to worm out the secret of these crystals, and get at their mystery. Still, the mystery was not revealed to them. At length, late in the eighteenth century, a Frenchman named Haiiy, one of the most remarkable men of a remarkable age, made the discovery, and ascertained that these native crystals, irregular as they appear, are in truth perfectly regular, and that their secondary forms deviate from their primary forms by a regular process of diminu- tion ; that is, by what he termed laws of decrement the principles of decrease being as unerring as those of increase. Now, I beg that you will particularly notice how this striking discovery was made. Haiiy was essentially a poet ; and his great delight was to wander in the Jardin du Roi, observing nature, not as a physical philosopher, but as a poet. Though his understanding was strong, his imagination was stronger : and it was for the purpose of filling his mind with ideas of beauty that he directed his attention at first to the vegetable kingdom, with its graceful forms and various hues. His poetic temperament luxuriating in such images of beauty, his mind became saturated with ideas of symmetry, and Cuvier assures us that it was in consequence of those ideas that he began to believe that the apparently irregular VOL. I. F 66 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE forms of native crystals were in reality regular ; in other words, that in them, too, there was a beauty a hidden beauty though the senses were unable to discern it. As soon as this idea was firmly implanted in his mind, at least half the discovery was made ; for he had got the key to it, and was on the right road, which others had missed because, while they approached minerals ex- perimentally on the side of the senses, he approached them speculatively on the side of the idea. This is not a mere fanciful assertion of mine, since Haiiy himself tells us, in his great work on Mineralogy, that he took, as his starting point, ideas of the symmetry of form ; and that from those ideas he worked down deductively to his subject. It was in this way, and of course after a long series of subsequent labours, that he read the riddle which had baffled his able but unimaginative predecessors. And there are two circumstances worthy of note, as confirming what I have said respecting the real history of this discovery. The first is, that although Haiiy is universally admitted to be the founder of the science, his means of observation were so rude that subse- quent crystallographers declare that hardly any of his measure- ments of angles are correct ; as indeed is not surprising, inasmuch as the goniometer which he employed was a very imperfect instrument ; and that of Wollaston, which acts by reflection, was not then invented. The other circumstance is, that the little mathematics he once knew he had forgotten amid his poetic and imaginative pursuits ; so that, in working out the details of his own science, he was obliged, like a schoolboy, to learn the elements of geometry before he could prove to the world what he had already proved to himself, and could bring the laws of the science of form to bear upon the structure of the mineral kingdom. To these cases of the application of what may be termed the ideal method to the inorganic world, I will add another from the organic department of nature. Those among you who are in- terested in botany, are aware that the highest morphological generalisation we possess respecting plants, is the great law of metamorphosis, according to which the stamens, pistils, corollas, bracts, petals, an'd so forth, of every plant, are simply modified leaves. It is now known that these various parts, different in shape, different in colour, and different in function, are successive stages of the leaf epochs, as it were, of its history. The question EXAMPLES OF DEDUCTIVE REASONING 6/ naturally arises, who made this discovery ? Was it some inductive investigator, who had spent years in experiments and minute observations of plants, and who, with indefatigable industry, had collected them, classified them, given them hard names, dried them, laid them up in his herbarium that he might at leisure study their structure and rise to their laws ? Not so. The discovery was made by Gothe, the greatest poet Germany has produced, and one of the greatest the world has ever seen. And he made it, not in spite of being a poet, but because he was a poet. It was his brilliant imagination, his passion for beauty, and his exquisite conception of form, which supplied him with ideas, from which, reasoning deductively, he arrived at conclusions by descent, not by ascent. He stood on an eminence, and looking down from the heights generalised the law. Then he descended into the plains, and verified the idea. When the discovery was announced by Gothe, the botanists not only rejected it, but were filled with wrath at the notion of a poet invading their territory. What ! a man who made verses and wrote plays, a mere man of imagination, a poor creature who knew nothing of facts, who had not even used the microscope, who had made no great experiments on the growth of plants ; was he to enter the sacred precincts of physical science, and give himself out as a philosopher ? It was too absurd. But Gothe, who had thrown his idea upon the world, could afford to wait and bide his time. You know the result. The men of facts at length succumbed before the man of ideas ; the philosophers, even on their own ground, were beaten by the poet ; and this great discovery is now received and eagerly welcomed by those very persons who, if they had lived fifty years ago, would have treated it with scorn, and who even now still go on in their old routine, telling us, in defiance of the history of our knowledge, that all physical discoveries are made by the Baconian method, and that any other method is unworthy the attention of sound and sensible thinkers. One more instance, and I have done with this part of the subject. The same great poet made another important physical discovery in precisely the same way. Gothe, strolling in a ceme- tery near Venice, stumbled on a skull which was lying before him. Suddenly the idea flashed across his mind that the skull was composed of vertebrae ; in other words, that the bony covering of the head was simply an expansion of the bony covering of the F 2 68 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE spine. This luminous idea was afterwards adopted by Oken and a few other great naturalists in Germany and France, but it was not received in England till ten years ago, when Mr. Owen took it up, and in his very remarkable work on the ' Homologies of the Vertebrate Skeleton,' showed its meaning and purpose as contri- buting towards a general scheme of philosophic anatomy. That the discovery was made by Gothe late in the eighteenth century, is certain, and it is equally certain that for fifty years afterwards the English anatomists, with all their tools and all their dissections, ignored or despised that very discovery which they are now com- pelled to accept You will particularly observe the circumstances under which this discovery was made. It was not made by some great surgeon, dissector, or physician, but it was made by a great poet, and amidst scenes most likely to excite a poetic temperament. It was made in Venice, that land so calculated to fire the imagina- tion of a poet; the land of marvels, the land of poetry and romance, the land of painting and of song. It was made, too, when Gothe, surrounded by the ashes of the dead, would be naturally impressed with those feelings of solemn awe, in whose presence the human understanding, rebuked and abashed, becomes weak and helpless, and leaves the imagination unfettered to wander in that ideal world, which is its own peculiar abode, and from which it derives its highest aspirations. It has often seemed to me that there is a striking similarity between this event and one of the most beautiful episodes in the greatest production of the greatest man the world has ever pos- sessed ; I mean Shakspeare's ' Hamlet.' You remember that wonderful scene in the churchyard, when Hamlet walks in among the graves, where the brutal and ignorant clowns are singing and jeering and jesting over the remains of the dead. You remember how the fine imagination of the great Danish thinker is stirred by the spectacle, albeit he knows not yet that the grave which is being dug at his feet is destined to contain all that he holds dear upon earth. But though he wists not of this, he is moved like the great German poet, and he, like Gothe, takes up a skull, and his speculative faculties begin to work. Images of decay crowd on his mind as he thinks how the mighty are fallen and have passed away. In a moment, his imagination carries him back two thousand years, and he almost believes that the skull he MEN OF THOUGHT AND MEN OF ACTION 69 holds in his hand is indeed the skull of Alexander, and in his mind's eye he contrasts the putrid bone with what it once con- tained, the brain of the scourge and conqueror of mankind. Then it is that suddenly he, like Gothe, passes into an ideal physical world, and seizing the great doctrine of the indestructibility of matter, that doctrine which in his age it was difficult to grasp, begins to show how, by a long series of successive changes, the head of Alexander might have been made to subserve the most ignoble purposes ; the substance being always metamorphosed, never destroyed. 'Why,' asks Hamlet, 'why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander ? ' when, just as he is about to pursue this train of ideas, he is stopped by one of those men of facts, one of those practical and prosaic natures, who are always ready to impede the flight of genius. By his side stands the faith- ful, the affectionate, but the narrow-minded Horatio, who, looking upon all this as the dream of a distempered fancy, objects that "Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.' O ! what a picture ! what a contrast between Hamlet and Horatio ; between the idea and the sense ; between the imagination and the under- standing. ' 'Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.' Even thus was Gothe troubled by his contemporaries, and thus too often speculation is stopped, genius is chilled, and the play and swell of the human mind repressed, because ideas are made subordinate to facts, because the external is preferred to the in- ternal, and because the Horatios of action discourage the Hamlets of thought. Much more could I have said to you on this subject, and gladly would I have enlarged on so fruitful a theme as the philosophy of scientific method; a philosophy too much neglected in this country, but of the deepest interest to those who care to rise above the little instincts of the hour, and who love to inquire into the origin of our knowledge, and into the nature of the conditions under which that knowledge exists. But I fear that I have almost ex- hausted your patience in leading you into paths of thought which, not being familiar, must be somewhat difficult, and I can hardly hope that I have succeeded in making every point perfectly clear. Still, I do trust that there is no obscurity as to the general results. I trust that I have not altogether raised my voice in vain before this great assembly, and that I have done at least something towards vindicating the use in physical science of that deductive 70 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE method which, during the last two centuries, Englishmen have unwisely despised. Not that I deny for a moment the immense value of the opposite or inductive method. Indeed, it is impos- sible for any one standing in this theatre to do so. It is impossible to forget that within the precincts of this building great secrets have been extorted from nature by induction alone. Under the shadow and protection of this noble Institution, men of real eminence, men of power and thought have, by a skilful employ- ment of that method, made considerable additions to our know- ledge, have earned for themselves the respect of their contempo- raries, and well deserve the homage of posterity. To them all honour is due ; and I, for one, would say, let that honour be paid freely, ungrudgingly, and with an open and bounteous heart. But I venture to submit that all discoveries have not been made by this, their favourite process. I submit that there is a spiritual, a poetic, and for aught we know a spontaneous and uncaused element in the human mind, which ever and anon, suddenly and without warning, gives us a glimpse and a forecast of the future, and urges us to seize truth as it were by anticipation. In attack- ing the fortress, we may sometimes storm the citadel without stopping to sap the outworks. That great discoveries have been made in this way, the history of our knowledge decisively proves. And if, passing from what has been already accomplished, we look at what remains to be done, we shall find that the necessity of some such plan is likely to become more and more pressing. The field of thought is rapidly widening, and as the horizon recedes on every side, it will soon be impossible for the mere logical operations of the understanding to cover the whole of that enormous and outlying domain. Already the division of labour has been pushed so far that we are in imminent danger of losing in comprehensive- ness more than we gain in accuracy. In our pursuit after special truths, we run no small risk of dwarfing our own minds. By con- centrating our attention, we are apt to narrow our conceptions, and to miss those commanding views which would be attained by a wider though perhaps less minute survey. It is but too clear that something of this sort has already happened, and that serious mischief has been wrought. For, look at the language and senti- ments of those who profess to guide, and who in some measure do guide, public opinion in the scientific world. According to their verdict, if a man does something specific and immediate, if, for DRAWBACKS ON THE INDUCTIVE METHOD 71 instance, he discovers a new acid or a new salt, great admiration is excited, and his praise is loudly celebrated. But when a man like Gothe puts forth some vast and pregnant idea which is destined to revolutionise a whole department of inquiry, and by inaugurating a new train of thought to form an epoch in the history of the human mind ; if it happens, as is always the case, that certain lacts contradict that view, then the so-called scientific men rise up in arms- against the author of so daring an innovation ; a storm is raised about his head, he is denounced as a dreamer, an idle visionary, an interloper in matters which he has not studied with proper sobriety. Thus it is that great minds are depressed in order that little minds may be raised. This false standard of excellence has cor- rupted even our language, and vitiated the ordinary forms of speech. Among us a theorist is actually a term of reproach, instead of being, as it ought to be, a term of honour ; for to theorise is the highest function of genius, and the greatest philosophers must always be the greatest theorists. What makes all this the more serious is, that the farther our knowledge advances, the greater will be the need of rising to transcendental views of the physical world. To the magnificent doctrine of the indestructibility of matter, we are now adding the no less magnificent one of the indestructibility of force ; and we are beginning to perceive that, according to the ordinary scientific treatment, our investigations must be confined to questions of metamorphosis and of distribution ; that the study of causes and of entities is forbidden to us ; and that we are limited to phenomena through which and above which we can never hope to pass. But, unless I greatly err, there is something in us which craves for more than this. Surely we shall not always be satisfied, even in physical science, with the cheerless prospect of never reaching beyond the laws of coexistence and of sequence. Surely this is not the be-all and end-all of our knowledge. And yet, according to the strict canons of inductive logic, we can do no more. According to that method, this is the verge and confine of all. Happily, however, induction is only one of our resources. Induction is, indeed, a mighty weapon laid up in the armoury of the human mind, and by its aid great deeds have been accom- plished, and noble conquests have been won. But in that armoury there is another weapon, I will not say of a stronger make, but certainly of a keener edge ; and, if that weapon had been oftener 72 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE used during the present and preceding century, our knowledge would be far more advanced than it actually is. If the imagination had been more cultivated, if there had been a closer union between the spirit of poetry and the spirit of science, natural philosophy would have made greater progress, because natural philosophers would have taken a higher and more successful aim, and would have enlisted on their side a wider range of human sympathies. From this point of view you will see the incalculable service women have rendered to the progress of knowledge. Great and exclusive as is our passion for induction, it would, but for them, have been greater and more exclusive still. Empirical as we are, slaves as we are to the tyranny of facts, our slavery would, but for them, have been more complete and more ignominious. Their turn of thought, their habits of mind, their conversation, their influence, insensibly extending over the whole surface of society, and frequently penetrating its intimate structure, have, more than all other things put together, tended to raise us into an ideal world, lift us from the dust in which we are too prone to grovel, and develop in us those germs of imagination which even the most sluggish and apathetic understandings in some degree possess. The striking fact that most men of genius have had remarkable mothers, and that they have gained from their mothers far more than from their fathers ; this singular and unquestionable fact can, I think, be best explained by the principles which I have laid down. Some, indeed, will tell you that this depends upon laws of the hereditary transmission of character from parent to child. But if this be the case, how comes it that while every one admits that remarkable men have usually remarkable mothers, it is not generally admitted that remarkable men have usually remarkable fathers ? If the intellect is bequeathed on one side, why is it not bequeathed on the other? For my part, I greatly doubt whether the human mind is handed down in this way, like an heirloom, from one generation to another. I rather believe that, in regard to the relation between men of genius and their mothers, the really im- portant events occur after birth, when the habits of thought peculiar to one sex act upon and improve the habits of thought peculiar to the other sex. Unconsciously, and from a very early period, there is established an intimate and endearing connection between the deductive mind of the mother and the inductive mind of her son. The understanding of the boy, softened and yet INFLUENCE OF MOTHERS OVER SONS 73 elevated by the imagination of his mother, is saved from that degeneracy towards which the mere understanding always inclines ; it is saved from being too cold, too matter-of-fact, too prosaic, and the different properties and functions of the mind are more har- moniously developed than would otherwise be practicable. Thus it is that by the mere play of the affections the finished man is ripened and completed. Thus it is that the most touching and the most sacred form of human love, the purest, the highest, and the holiest compact of which our nature is capable, becomes an engine for the advancement of knowledge and the discovery of truth. In after life other relations often arise by which the same process is continued. And, notwithstanding a few exceptions, we do undoubtedly find that the most truly eminent men have had not only their affections, but also their intellect, greatly influenced by women. I will go even farther ; and I will venture to say that those who have not undergone that influence betray a something incomplete and mutilated. We detect, even in their genius, a certain frigidity of tone ; and we look in vain for that burning fire, that gushing and spontaneous nature with which our ideas of genius are indissolubly associated. Therefore, it is, that those who are most anxious that the boundaries of knowledge should be enlarged, ought to be most eager that the influence of women should be increased, in order that every resource of the human mind may be at once and quickly brought into play. For you may rely upon it that the time is approaching when all those re- sources will be needed, and will be taxed even to the utmost. We shall soon have on our hands work far more arduous than any we have yet accomplished ; and we shall be encountered by difficul- ties the removal of which will require every sort of help, and every variety of power. As yet we are in the infancy of our knowledge. What we have done is but a speck compared to what remains to be done. For what is there that we really know ? We are too apt to speak as if we had penetrated into the sanctuary of truth and raised the veil of the goddess, when in fact we are still standing, coward-like, trembling before the vestibule, and not daring, from very fear, to cross the threshold of the temple. The highest of our so-called laws of nature are as yet purely empirical. You are startled by that assertion, but it is literally true. Not one single physical discovery that has ever been made has been con- nected with the laws of the mind that made it ; and until that 74 WOMEN'S INFLUENCE ON PROGRESS OF KNOWLEDGE connection is ascertained our knowledge has no sure basis. On the one side we have mind ; on the other side we have matter. These two principles are so interwoven, they so act upon and per- turb each other, that we shall never really know the laws of one unless we also know the laws of both. Everything is essential ; everything hangs together, and forms part of one single scheme, one grand and complex plan, one gorgeous drama, of which the universe is the theatre. They who discourse to you of the laws of nature as if those laws were binding on nature, or as if they formed a part of nature, deceive both you and themselves. The laws of nature have their sole seat, origin, and function in the human mind. They are simply the conditions under which the regularity of nature is recognised. They explain the external world, but they reside in the internal. As yet we know scarcely anything of the laws of mind, and therefore we know scarcely anything of the laws of nature. Let us not be led away by vain and high-sounding words. We talk of the law of gravitation, and yet we know not what gravitation is; we talk of the conservation of force and distribu- tion of forces, and we know not what forces are; we talk with -com- placent ignorance of the atomic arrangements of matter, and we neither know what atoms are nor what matter is ; we do not even know if matter, in the ordinary sense of the word, can be said to exist ; we have as yet only broken the first ground, we have but touched the crust and surface of things. Before us and around us there is an immense and untrodden field, whose limits the eye vainly strives to define ; so completely are they lost in the dim and shadowy outline of the future. In that field, which we and our posterity have yet to traverse, I firmly believe that the imagination will effect quite as much as the understanding. Our poetry will have to reinforce our logic, and we must feel as much as we must argue. Let us, then, hope that the imaginative and emotional minds of one sex will continue to accelerate the great progress, by acting upon and improving the colder and harder minds of the other sex. By this coalition, by this union of different faculties, different tastes, and different methods, we shall go on our way with the greater ease. A vast and splendid career lies before us, which it will take many ages to complete. We see looming in the distance a rich and goodly harvest, into which perchance some of us may yet live to thrust our sickle, but of which, reap what we may, the greatest crop of all must be reserved for our posterity. WOMEN'S INFLUENCE IN THE FUTURE 75 So far, however, from desponding, we ought to be sanguine. We have every reason to believe that when the human mind once steadily combines the whole of its powers, it will be more than a match for the difficulties presented by the external world. As we surpass our fathers, so will our children surpass us. We, waging against the forces of nature what has too often been a precarious, unsteady, and unskilled warfare, have never yet put forth the whole of our strength, and have never united all our faculties against our common foe. -We, therefore, have been often worsted, and have sustained many and grievous reverses. But even so, such is the elasticity of the human mind, such is the energy of that immortal and god-like principle which lives within us, that we are baffled without being discouraged, our very defeats quicken our resources, and we may hope that our descendants, benefiting by our failure, will profit by our example, and that for them is reserved that last and decisive stage of the great conflict between Man and Nature, in which, advancing from success to success, fresh trophies will be constantly won, every struggle will issue in a conquest, and every battle end in a victory. MILL ON LIBERTY.' IF a jury of the greatest European thinkers were to be impan- nelled, and were directed to declare by their verdict who, among our living writers, had done most for the advance of knowledge, they could hardly hesitate in pronouncing the name of John Stuart Mill. Nor can we doubt that posterity would ratify their decision. No other man has dealt with so many problems of equal importance, and yet of equal complexity. The questions which he has investigated concern, on the one hand, the practical interests of every member of society, and, on the other hand, the subtlest and most hidden operations of the human mind. Although he touches the surface he also penetrates the centre. Between those extremes lie innumerable subjects which he has explored, always with great ability, often with signal success. On these topics, whether practical or speculative, his authority is con- stantly evoked ; and his conclusions are adopted by many who are unable to follow the arguments by which the conclusions are 1 Reprinted from ' Eraser's Magazine ' for May 1859. 76 MILL ON LIBERTY justified Other men we have, remarkable for their depth of thought ; and others again who are remarkable for the utility of their suggestions. But the peculiarity of Mr. Mill is, that both these qualities are more effectively combined by him than by any one else of the present day. Hence it is, that he is as skilful in tracing the operation of general causes, as in foreseeing the result of particular measures. And hence, too, his influence is far greater than would otherwise be possible ; since he not only appeals to a wider range of interests than any living writer can do, but by his mastery over special and practical details he is able to show that principles, however refined they appear, and however far removed from ordinary apprehension, may be enforced, without so dangerous a disturbance of social arrangements, and without so great a sacrifice of existing institutions, as might at first sight be supposed. By this means he has often disarmed hostility, and has induced practical men to accept conclusions on practical grounds, to which no force of scientific argument and no amount of scientific proof would have persuaded them to yield. Securing by one process the assent of speculative thinkers, and securing by another process the assent of working politicians, he operates on the two extremes of life, and exhibits the singular spectacle of one of the most daring and original philosophers in Europe, winning the applause of not a few mere legislators and statesmen who are indifferent to his higher generalizations, and who, confining them- selves to their own craft, are incapable of soaring beyond the safe and limited routine of ordinary experience. This has increased his influence in more ways than one. For it is extremely rare to meet with a man who excels both in prac- tice and in speculation ; and it is by no means common to meet with one who desires to do so. Between these two forms of ex- cellence, there is not only a difference, there is also an opposition. Practice aims at what is immediate ; speculation at what is remote. The first investigates small and special causes, the other investi- gates large and general causes. In practical life the wisest and soundest men avoid speculation, and ensure success because by limiting their range they increase the tenacity with which they grasp events ; while in speculative life the course is exactly the reverse, since in that department the greater the range the greater the command, and the object of the philosopher is to have as large a generalization as possible ; in other words, to rise as high PRACTICE AND SPECULATION 77 as he can above the phenomena with which he is concerned. The truth I apprehend to be that the immediate effect of any act is usually determined by causes peculiar to that act, and which, as it were, lie within it ; while the remote effect of the same act is governed by causes lying out of the act ; that is, by the general condition of the surrounding circumstances. Special causes pro- duce their effect quickly ; but to bring general causes into play, we require not only width of surface but also length of time. If, for instance, a man living under a cruel despotism were to inflict a fatal blow upon the despot, the immediate result namely, the death of the tyrant would be caused solely by circumstances peculiar to the action, such as the sharpness of the weapon, the precision of the aim, and the part that was wounded. But the remote result that is, the removal, not of the despot but of the despotism would be governed by circumstances external to the particular act, and would depend upon whether or not the country was fit for liberty, since if the country were unfit, another despot would be sure to arise and another despotism be established. To a philosophic mind the actions of an individual count for little ; to a practical mind they are everything. Whoever is accustomed to generalise, smiles within himself when he hears that Luther brought about the Reformation ; that Bacon overthrew the ancient philosophy ; that William III. saved our liberties ; that Romilly humanised our penal code ; that Clarkson and Wilberforce de- stroyed slavery ; and that Grey and Brougham gave us Reform. He smiles at such assertions, because he knows full well that such men, useful as they were, are only to be regarded as tools by which that work was done which the force and accumulation of preceding circumstances had determined should be done. They were good instruments ; sharp and serviceable instruments, but nothing more. Not only are individuals, in the great average of affairs, inoperative for good ; they are also, happily for mankind, inoperative for evil. Nero and Domitian caused enormous mischief, but every trace of it has now disappeared. The occur- rences which contemporaries think to be of the greatest importance, and which in point of fact for a short time are so, invariably turn out in the long-run to be the least important of all. They are like meteors which dazzle the vulgar by their brilliancy, and then pass away, leaving no mark behind. Well, therefore, and in the highest spirit of philosophy, did Montesquieu say that the Roman 78 MILL ON LIBERTY Republic was overthrown, not, as is commonly supposed, by the ambition of Caesar and Pompey, but by that state of things which made the success of their ambition possible. And so indeed it was. Events which had been long accumulating, and had come from afar, pressed on and thickened until their united force was irresistible, and the Republic grew ripe for destruction. It de- cayed, it tottered, it was sapped to its foundation ; and then, when all was ready and it was nodding to its fall, Caesar and Pompey stepped forward, and because they dealt the last blow, we, forsooth, are expected to believe that they produced a catastrophe which the course of affairs had made inevitable before they were born. The great majority of men will, however, always cling to Caesar and Pompey ; that is to say, they will prefer the study of proximate causes to the study of remote ones. This is connected with another and more fundamental distinction, by virtue of which, life is regarded by practical minds as an art, by speculative minds as a science. And we find every civilized nation divided into two classes corresponding with these two divisions. We find one class investigating affairs with a view to what is most special ; the other investigating them with a view to what is most general. This antagonism is essential, and lies in the nature of things. Indeed, it is so clearly marked, that except in minds, not only of very great power, but of a peculiar kind of power, it is impossible to reconcile the two methods ; it is impossible for any but a most remarkable man to have them both. Many even of the greatest thinkers have been but too notorious for an ignorance of ordinary affairs, and for an inattention to practical every-day interests. While studying the science of life, they neglect the art of living. This is because such men, notwithstanding their genius, are essen- tially one-sided and narrow, being, unhappily for themselves, unable or unaccustomed to note the operation of special and proximate causes. Dealing with the remote and the universal, they omit the immediate and the contingent. They sacrifice the actual to the ideal. To their view, all phenomena are suggestive of science, that is, of what may be known; while to the opposite view, the same phenomena are suggestive of art, that is, of what may be done. A perfect intellect would unite both views, and assign to each its relative importance ; but such a feat is of the greatest possible rarity. It may in fact be doubted if more than one instance is recorded of its being performed without a single LIFE AN ART AND A SCIENCE 79 failure. That instance, I need hardly say, is Shakspeare. No other mind has thoroughly interwoven the remote with the proximate, the general with the special, the abstract with the concrete. No other mind has so completely incorporated the speculations of the highest philosophy with the meanest details of the lowest life Shakspeare mastered both extremes, and covered all the intermediate field. He knew both man and men. He thought as deeply as Plato or Kant. He observed as closely as Dickens or Thackeray. Of whom else can this be said ? Other philosophers have, for the most part, overlooked the surface in their haste to reach the summit. Hence the anomaly of many of the most profound thinkers having been ignorant of what it was shameful for them not to know, and having been unable to manage with success even their own affairs. The sort of advice they would give to others may be easily imagined. It is no exaggeration to say that if, in any age of the world, one half of the suggestions made by the ablest men had been adopted, that age would have been thrown into the rankest confusion. Plato was the deepest thinker of antiquity; and yet the proposals which he makes in his ' Republic,' and in his 'Treatise on Laws,' are so absurd that they can hardly be read without laughter. Aristotle, little inferior to Plato in depth, and much his superior in comprehensiveness, desired, on purely speculative grounds, that no one should give or receive interest for the use of money : an idea which, if it had been put into execution, would have produced the most mischievous results, would have stopped the accumulation of wealth, and thereby have postponed for an indefinite period the civilization of the world. In modern as well as in ancient times, systems of philosophy have been raised which involve assumptions, and seek to compel con- sequences, incompatible with the practical interests of society. The Germans are the most profound philosophers in Europe, and it is precisely in their country that this tendency is most apparent. Comte, the most comprehensive thinker France has produced since Descartes, did in his last work deliberately advocate, and wish to organise, a scheme of polity so monstrously and obviously impraticable, that if it were translated into English the plain men of our island would lift their eyes in astonishment, and would most likely suggest that the author should for his own sake be immediately confined. Not that we need pride ourselves too 80 MILL ON LIBERTY much on these matters. If a catalogue were to be drawn up of the practical suggestions made by our greatest thinkers, it would be impossible to conceive a document more damaging to the reputation of the speculative classes. Those classes are always before the age in their theories, and behind the age in their prac- tice. It is not, therefore, strange that Frederick the Great, who perhaps had a more intimate and personal knowledge of them than any other prince equally powerful, and who moreover ad- mired them, courted them, and as an author, to a certain slight degree belonged to them, should have recorded his opinion of their practical incapacity in the strongest terms he could find. ' If,' he is reported to have said, ' if I wanted to ruin one of my provinces, I would make over its government to the philosophers.' This neglect of the surface of things is, moreover, exhibited in the peculiar absence of mind for which many philosophers have been remarkable. Newton was so oblivious of what was actually passing, that he frequently overlooked or forgot the most neces- sary transactions, was not sure whether he had dined, and would leave his own house half-naked, appearing in that state in the streets, because he fancied all the while that he was fully dressed. Many admire this as the simplicity of genius. I see nothing in it but an unhappy and calamitous principle of the construction of the human mind, which prevents nearly all men from successfully dealing both with the remote and the immediate. They who are little occupied with either, may, by virtue of the smallness of their ambition, somewhat succeed in both. This is the reward of their mediocrity, and they may well be satisfied with it. Dividing such energy as they possess, they unite a little speculation with a little business ; a little science with a little art. But in the most eminent and vigorous characters, we find with extremely rare ex- ceptions, that excellence on one side excludes excellence on the other. Here the perfection of theory, there the perfection of practice ; and between the two a gulf which few indeed can bridge. Another and still more remarkable instance of this unfortunate peculiarity of our nature is supplied by the career of Bacon, who, though he boasted that he made philosophy practical, and forced her to dwell among men, was himself so unpractical that he could not deal with events as they successively arose. Yet he had everything in his favour. To genius of the highest order he added eloquence, wit, and industry. He had good connections, influential BACON AS A THINKER AND AN ACTOR 8 1 friends, a supple address, an obsequious and somewhat fawning disposition. He had seen life under many aspects, he had mixed with various classes, he had abundant experience, and still he was unable to turn these treasures to practical account. Putting him aside as a philosopher, and taking him merely as a man of action, his conduct was a series of blunders. Whatever he most desired, in that did he most fail. One of his darling objects was the attainment of popularity, in the pursuit of which he, on two memorable occasions, grievously offended the Court from which he sought promotion. So unskilful, however, were his combina- tions, that in the prosecution of Essex, which was by far the most unpopular act in the reign of Elizabeth, he played a part not only conspicuous and discreditable, but grossly impolitic. Essex, who was a high-spirited and generous man, was beloved by all classes, and nothing could be more certain than that the violence Bacon displayed against him would recoil on its author. It was also well known that Essex was the intimate friend of Bacon, had exerted himself in every way for him, and had even presented him with a valuable estate. For a man to prosecute his benefactor, to heap invectives upon him at his trial, and having hunted him to the death, publish a libel insulting his memory, was a folly as well as an outrage, and is one of many proofs that in practical matters the judgment of Bacon was unsound. Ingratitude aggravated by cruelty must, if it is generally known, always be a blunder as well as a crime, because it wounds the deepest and most universal feelings of our common nature. However vicious a man may be, he will never be guilty of such an act, unless he is foolish as well as vicious. But the philosopher could not foresee those imme- diate consequences which a plain man would have easily discerned. The truth is, that while the speculations of Bacon were full of wisdom, his acts were full of folly. He was anxious to build up a fortune, and he did what many persons have done both before and since : he availed himself of his judicial position to take bribes from suitors in his court. But here again his operations were so clumsy, that he committed the enormous oversight of accepting bribes from men against whom he afterwards decided. He, therefore, deliberately put himself in the power of those whom he deliberately injured. This was not only because he was greedy after wealth, but also because he was injudiciously greedy. The error was in the head as much as in the heart. Besides being VOL. I. G a corrupt judge, he was likewise a bad calculator. The conse- quence was that he was detected, and being detected was ruined. When his fame was at its height, when enjoyments of every kind were thickening and clustering around him, the cup of pleasure was dashed from his lips because he quaffed it too eagerly. To say that he fell merely because he was unprincipled, is preposterous, for many men are unprincipled all their lives and never fall at all. Why it is that bad men sometimes flourish, and how such appa- rent injustice is remedied, is a mysterious question which this is not the place for discussing ; but the fact is indubitable. In practical life men fail, partly because they aim at unwise objects, but chiefly because they have not acquired the art of adapting their means to their end. This was the case with Bacon. In ordinary matters he was triumphed over and defeated by nearly every one with whom he came into contact. His dependants cheated him with impunity; and notwithstanding the large sums he received he was constantly in debt, so that even while his peculations were going on he derived little benefit from them. Though as a judge, he stole the property of others, he did not know how to steal so as to escape detection, and he did not know how to keep what he had stolen. The mighty thinker was, in practice, an arrant trifler. He always neglected the immediate and the pressing. This was curiously exemplified in the last scene of his life. In some of his generalisations respecting putrefaction, it occurred to him that the process might be stopped by snow. He arrived at conclusions like a cautious and large- minded philosopher : he tried them with the rashness and pre- cipitancy of a child. With an absence of common sense which would be incredible if it were not well attested, he rushed out of his coach on a very cold day, and, neglecting every precaution, stood shivering in the air, while he stuffed a fowl with snow, risking a life invaluable to mankind for the sake of doing what any serving-man could have done just as well. It did not need the intellect of a Bacon to foresee the result. Before he had finished what he was about he felt suddenly chilled : he became so ill as to be unable to return to his own house, and his worn-out frame giving way, he gradually sank and died a week after his first seizure. Such events are very sad, but they are also very instructive. Some, I know, class them under the head of martyrdom for science : to me they seem the penalty of folly. It is at all events certain that in the lives of great thinkers they are painfully THE IMPRACTICABILITY OF MEN OF GENIUS 83 abundant. It is but too true that many men of the highest power have, by neglecting the study of proximate causes, shortened their career, diminished their usefulness, and, bringing themselves to a premature old age, have deprived mankind of their services just at the time when their experience was most advanced, and their intellect most matured. Others, again, who have stopped short of this, have by their own imprudence become involved in em- barrassments of every kind, taking no heed of the morrow, wasting their resources, squandering their substance, and incurring debts which they were unable to pay. This is the result less of vice than of thoughtlessness. Vice is often cunning and wary : but thoughtlessness is always profuse and reckless. And so marked is the tendency, that ' Genius struggling with difficulties ' has grown into a proverb. Unhappily, genius has, in an immense majority of cases, created its own difficulties. The consequence is that not only mere men of the world, but men of sound, useful understandings, do, for the most part, look upon genius as some strange and erratic quality, beautiful indeed to see, but danger- ous to possess : a sparkling fire which consumes while it lightens. They regard it with curiosity, perhaps even with interest ; but they shake their heads ; they regret that men who are so clever should have so little sense ; and, pluming themselves on their own superior sagacity, they complacently remind each other that great wit is generally allied to madness. Who can wonder that this should be? Look at what has occurred in these islands alone, during so short a period as three generations. Look at the lives of Fielding, Goldsmith, Smollett, Savage, Shenstone, Budgell, Charnock, Churchill, Chatterton, Derrick, Parnell, Somerville, Whitehead, Coombe, Day, Gilbert, Stuart, Ockley, Oldys, Boyse, Hasted, Smart, Thomson, Grose, Daws, Barker, Harwood, Person, Thirlby, Baron, Barry, Coleridge, Fearne, Walter Scott, Byron, Burns, Moore, and Campbell. Here you have men of every sort of ability, distinguished by every variety of imprudence. What does it all mean ? Why is it that they who might have been the salt of the earth, and whom we should have been proud to take as our guides, are now pointed at by every blockhead as proofs of the inability of genius to grapple with the realities of life ? Why is it that against these, and their fellows, each puny whipster can draw his sword, and dullards vent their naughty spite ? That little men should jeer at great ones is natural ; that they should 84 MILL ON LIBERTY have reason to jeer at them is shameful. Yet, this must always be the case so long as the present standard of action exists. As long as such expressions as ' the infirmities of genius ' form an essential part of our language as long as we are constantly re- minded that genius is naturally simple, guileless, and unversed in the ways of the world as long as notions of patronising and pro- tecting it continue as long as men of letters are regarded with pitying wonder, as strange creatures from whom a certain amount of imprudence must be expected, and in whom it may be tolerated as long as among them extravagance is called generosity, and economy called meanness as long as these things happen, so long will the evils that correspond to them endure, and so long will the highest class of minds lose much of their legitimate influence. In the same way, while it is believed that authors must, as a body, be heedless and improvident, it will likewise be believed that for them there must be pensions and subscriptions ; that to them Govern- ment and Society should be bountiful ; and that, on their behalf, institutions should be erected to provide for necessities which it was their own business to have foreseen, but which they, engaged in the arduous employment of writing books, could not be ex- pected to attend to. Their minds are so weak and sickly, so unfit for the rough usages of life, that they must be guarded against the consequences of their own actions. The feebleness of their understandings make such precautions necessary. There must be hospitals for the intellect, as well as for the body ; asylums where these poor, timid creatures may find refuge, and may escape from calamities which their confiding innocence prevented them from anticipating. These are the miserable delusions which still prevail. These are the wretched infatuations by which the strength and majesty of the literary character are impaired. In England there is, I rejoice to say, a more manly and sturdy feeling on these sub- jects than in any other part of Europe ; but even in England literary men do not sufficiently appreciate the true dignity of their profession ; nor do they sufficiently understand that the founda- tion of all real grandeur is a spirit of proud and lofty independ- ence. In other countries, the state of opinion is most degrading. In other countries to have a pension is a mark of honour, and to beg for money is a proof of spirit. Eminent men are turned into hirelings, receive eleemosynary aid, and raise a clamour if the aid is not forthcoming. They snatch at every advantage and accept PATRONAGE OF LITERARY MEN MISCHIEVOUS 85 even titles and decorations from the first foolish prince who is willing to bestow them. They make constant demands on the public purse, and then they wonder that the public respects them so little. In France, in particular, we have within the last year seen one of the most brilliant writers of the age, who had realised immense sums by his works, and who with common prudence ought to have amassed a large fortune, coming forward as a mendicant, avowing in the face of Europe that he had squandered what he had earned, and soliciting, not only friends, but even strangers, to make up the deficiency. And this was done without a blush, without any sense of the ignominy of the proceeding, but rather with a parade of glorying in it. In a merchant, or a tradesman, such a confes- sion of recklessness would have been considered disgraceful ; and why are men of genius to have a lower code than merchants or tradesmen ? Whence comes this confusion of the first principles of justice ? By what train of reasoning, or rather by what process of sophistry, are we to infer, that when men of industry are im- provident they shall be ruined, but that when men of letters are improvident they shall be rewarded ? How long will this invidi- ous distinction be tolerated ? How long will such scandals last ? How long will those who profess to be the teachers of mankind behave like children, and submit to be treated as the only class who are deficient in foresight, in circumspection, in economy, and 'in all those sober and practical virtues which form the character of a good and useful citizen ? Nearly every one who cultivates literature as a profession can gain by it an honest livelihood ; and if he cannot gain it he has mistaken his trade, and should seek another. Let it, then, be clearly understood that what such men earn by their labour, or save by their abstinence, or acquire by lawful inheritance, that they can enjoy without loss of dignity. But if they ask for more, or if they accept more, they become the recipients of charity, and between them and the beggar who walks the streets, the only difference is in the magnitude of the sum which is expected. To break stones on the highway is far more honourable than to receive such alms. Away, then, with your pensions, your subscriptions, your Literary Institutions, and your Literary Funds, by which you organise mendicancy into a system, and, under pretence of increasing public liberality, increase the amount of public imprudence. But before this high standard can be reached, much remains 86 MILL ON LIBERTY to be done. As yet, and in the present early and unformed state of society, literary men are, notwithstanding a few exceptions, more prone to improvidence than the members of any other profession ; and being also more deficient in practical knowledge, it too often happens that they are regarded as clever visionaries, fit to amuse the world, but unfit to guide it. The causes of this I have examined at some length, both because the results are extremely important, and because little attention has been hitherto paid to their operation. If I were not afraid of being tedious I could push the analysis still further, and could show that these very causes are themselves a part of the old spirit of Protection ; and as such are intimately connected with some religious and political prejudices which obstruct the progress of society ; and that in the countries where such prejudices are most powerful, the mischief is most serious and the state of literature most unhealthy. But to prosecute that inquiry would be to write a treatise rather than an essay ; and I shall be satisfied if I have cleared the ground so far as I have gone, and have succeeded in tracing the relation between these evils and the general question of philo- sophic Method. The divergence between speculative minds and practical minds, and the different ways they have of contemplating affairs, are no doubt encouraged by the prevalence of false notions of patronage and reward, which, when they are brought to bear upon any class, inevitably tend to make that class unthrifty, and therefore unpractical. This is a law of the human mind which the political economists have best illustrated in their own de- partment, but the operation of which is universal. Serious, however, as this evil is, it only belongs to a very imperfect state of society, and after a time it will probably disappear. But the essential, and, so far as I can understand, the permanent cause of divergence, is a difference of Method. In the creation of our knowledge, it appears to be a fundamental necessity that the speculative classes should search for what is distant, while the practical classes search for what is adjacent. I do not see how it is possible to get rid of this antithesis. There may be some way, which we cannot yet discern, of reconciling the two extremes, and of merging the antagonistic methods into one which, being higher than either, shall include both. At present, however, there is no prospect of such a result. We must, therefore, be satisfied if from time to time, and at long intervals, a man arises THE PHILOSOPHY OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 87 whose mind is so happily constructed as to study with equal success the surface and the summit ; and who is able to show, by his single example, that views drawn from the most exalted region of thought, are applicable to the common transactions of daily life. The only living Englishman who has achieved this is Mr. Mill. In the first place, he is our only great speculative philosopher who for many years has engaged in public life. Since Ricardo, no original thinker has taken an active part in political affairs. Not that those affairs have on that account been worse administered; nor that we have cause to repine at our lot in comparison with other nations. On the contrary, no country has been better governed than ours ; and at the present moment, it would be impossible to find in any one European nation more able, zealous, and upright public men than England possesses. In such extremely rare cases as those of Brougham and Macaulay, there are also united to these qualities the most splendid and captivating accomplish- ments, and the far higher honour which they justly enjoy of having always been the eager and unflinching advocates of popu- lar liberty. It cannot, however, be pretended that even these eminent men have added anything to our ideas ; still less can such a claim be made on behalf of their inferiors in the political world. They have popularised the ideas and enforced them, but never created them. They have shown great skill and great courage in applying the conceptions of others ; but the fresh conceptions, the higher and larger generalizations, have not been their work. They can attack old abuses ; they cannot discover new principles. This incapacity for dealing with the highest problems has been curiously exemplified during the last two years, when a great number of the most active and eminent of our public men, as well as several who are active without being eminent, have formed an Association for the promotion of Social Science. Among the papers published by that Association will be found many curious facts and many useful suggestions. But Social Science there is none. There is not even a perception of what that science is. Not one speaker or writer attempted a scientific investigation of society, or showed that in his opinion, such a thing ought to be attempted. Where science begins the Association leaves off. All science is composed either of physical laws, or of mental laws ; and as the actions of men are deter- mined by both, the only way of founding Social Science is to 88 MILL ON LIBERTY investigate each class of laws by itself, and then, after computing their separate results, co-ordinate the whole into a single study, by verifying them. This is the only process by which highly complicated phenomena can be disentangled ; but the Association did not catch a glimpse of it. Indeed, they reversed the proper order, and proceeded from the concrete to the abstract, instead of from the abstract to the concrete. The reason of this error may be easily explained. The leading members of the Association, being mostly politicians, followed the habits of their profession ; that is to say, they noted the events immediately surrounding them, and, taking a contemporary view, they observed the actual effects with a view of discovering the causes, and then remedying the evils. This was their plan, and it was natural to men whose occupations led them to look at the surface of affairs. But to any mind accustpmed to rise to a certain height above that sur- face, and thoroughly imbued with the spirit of scientific method, it is obvious that this way of investigating social phenomena must be futile. Even in the limited field of political action, its results are at best mere empirical uniformities ; while in the immense range of social science it is altogether worthless. When men are collected together in society, with their passions and their interests touching each other at every point, it is clear that nothing can happen without being produced by a great variety of causes. Of these causes, some will be conflicting, and their action being neutralized they will often disappear in the product ; or, at all events, will leave traces too faint to be discerned. If, then, a cause is counteracted, how can you ascertain its existence by studying its effect ? When only one cause produces an effect, you may infer the cause from the effect. But if several causes conspire to produce one effect this is impossible. The most persevering study of the effect, and the most intimate acquaint-' ance with it, will in such case never lead to a knowledge of the causes ; and the only plan is to proceed deductively from cause to effect, instead of inductively from effect to cause. Suppose, for example, a ball is struck on different sides by two persons at the same time. The effect will be that the ball, after being struck, will pass from one spot to another ; but that effect may be studied for thousands of years without any one being able to ascertain the causes of the direction the ball took ; and even if he is told that two persons have contributed to produce the THE PHILOSOPHY OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 89 result, he could not discover how much each person contributed. But if the observer, instead of studying the effect to obtain the causes, had studied the causes themselves, he would have been able, without going farther, to predict the exact resting-place of the ball. In other words, by knowing the causes he could learn the effect, but by knowing the effect he could not learn the causes. Suppose, again, that I hear a musical instrument being played. The effect depends on a great variety of causes, among which are the power possessed by the air of conveying the sound, the power of the ear to receive its vibrations, and the power of the brain to feel them. These are vulgarly called conditions, but they are all causes, inasmuch as a cause can only be defined to be an invariable and unconditional antecedent. They are just as much causes as the hand of the musician ; and the question arises, Could those causes have been discovered merely by studying the effect the music produced upon me ? Most assuredly not Most assuredly would it be requisite to study each cause separately, and then, by compounding the laws of their action, predict the entire effect. In social science, the plurality of causes is far more marked than in the cases I have mentioned ; and therefore, in social science, the method of proceeding from effects to causes is far more absurd. And what aggravates the absurdity is, that the difficulty produced by the plurality of causes is heightened by another difficulty namely, the conflict of causes. To deal with such enormous complications as politicians usually deal with them, is simply a waste of time. Every science has some hypothesis which underlies it, and which must be taken for granted. The hypo- thesis on which social science rests, is that the actions of men are a compound result of the laws of mind and the laws of matter ; and as that result is highly complex, we shall never understand it until the laws themselves have been unravelled by a previous and separate inquiry. Even if we could experiment, it would be different ; because by experimenting on an effect we can artificially isolate it, and guard against the encroachment of causes which we do not wish to investigate. But in social science there can be no experiment For, in the first place, there can be no previous isolation ; since every interference lets into the framework of society a host of new phenomena which invalidate the experiment before the experiment is concluded. And, in the second place, that which is called an experiment, such as the adoption of a fresh pO MILL ON LIBERTY principle in legislation, is not an experiment in the scientific sense of the word ; because the results which follow depend far more upon the general state of the surrounding society than upon the principle itself. The surrounding state of society is, in its turn, governed by a long train of antecedents, each linked to the other, and forming, in their aggregate, an orderly and spontaneous march, which politicians are unable to control, and which they do for the most part utterly ignore. This absence of speculative ability among politicians, is the natural result of the habits of their class ; and as the same result is almost invariably found among practical men, I have thought the illustration just adduced might be interesting, in so far as it confirms the doctrine of an essential antagonism of Method, which though like all speculative distinctions, infringed at various points, does undoubtedly exist, and appears to me to form the basis for a classification of society more complete than any yet proposed. Perhaps, too, it may have the effect of guarding against the rash and confident assertions of public men on matters re- specting which they have no means of forming an opinion, because their conclusions are vitiated by the adoption of an illogical method. It is, accordingly, a matter of notoriety that in pre- dicting the results of large and general innovations, even the most sagacious politicians have been oftener wrong than right, and have foreseen evil when nothing but good has come. Against this sort of error, the longest and most extensive experience affords no protection. While statesmen confine themselves to questions of detail, and to short views of immediate expediency, their judgment should be listened to with respect. But beyond this, they are rarely to be heeded. It constantly, and indeed usually happens, that statesmen and legislators who pass their whole life in public affairs, know nothing of their own age, except what lies on the surface, and are therefore unable to calculate, even approximatively, remote and general consequences. Abundant evidence of their incapacity on these points will present itself to whoever has occa- sion to read much of State Papers or of Parliamentary discussions in different ages, or, what is still more decisive, the private cor- respondence of eminent politicians. These reveal but too clearly that they who are supposed to govern the course of affairs are ut- terly ignorant of the direction affairs are really taking. What is before them they see ; what is above them they overlook. While, HIS 'PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL ECONOMY' 91 however, this is the deficiency of political practitioners, it must be admitted that political philosophers are, on their side, equally at fault in being too prone to neglect the operation of superficial and tangible results. The difference between the two classes is analogous to that which exists between a gardener and a botanist. Both deal with plants, but each considers the plant from an opposite point of view. The gardener looks to its beauty and its flavour. These are qualities which lie on the surface ; and to these the scientific botanist pays no heed. He studies the physiology ; he searches for the law ; he penetrates the minute structure, and rending the plant, sacrifices the individual that he may understand the species. The gardener, like the statesman, is accustomed to consider the superficial and the immediate ; the botanist, like the philosopher, inquires into the hidden and remote* Which pursuit is the more valuable is not now the question ; but it is certain that a successful combination of both pursuits is very rare. The habits of mind, the turn of thought, all the associa- tions, are diametrically opposed. To unite them requires a strength of resolution and a largeness of intellect rarely given to man to attain. It usually happens that they who seek to combine the opposites fail on both sides, and become at once shallow philosophers and unsafe practitioners. It must, therefore, be deemed a remarkable fact that a man who is beyond dispute the deepest of our living thinkers, should, during many years, not only have held a responsible post in a very difficult department of government, but should, according to the testimony of those best able to judge, have fulfilled the duties of that post with conspicuous and unvarying success. This has been the case with Mr. Mill, and on this account his opinions are entitled to peculiar respect, because they are formed by one who has mastered both extremes of life. Such a duality of function is worthy of especial attention, and it will hardly be taken amiss if I endeavour to show how it has displayed itself in the writings of this great philosopher. To those who delight in contemplating the development of an intellect of the rarest kind, it will not appear unseemly that, before examining his latest work, I should compare those other productions by which he has been hitherto known and which have won for him a vast and permanent fame. Those works are his 'Principles of Political Economy,' and his 'System of Logic.' Each of these elaborate productions is 92 MILL ON LIBERTY remarkable for one of the two great qualities of the author ; the Political Economy being mostly valuable for the practical applica- tion of truths previously established ; while the Logic contains an analysis of the process of reasoning, more subtle and exhaustive than any which has appeared since Aristotle, 1 Of the Political Economy, it is enough to say that none of the principles in it are new. Since the publication of the ' Wealth of Nations,' the science had been entirely remodelled, and it was the object of Mr. Mill not to extend its boundaries, but to turn to practical account what had been achieved by the two generations of thinkers who succeeded Adam Smith. The brilliant discovery of the true theory of rent, which, though not made by Ricardo, was placed by him on a solid foundation, had given an entirely new aspect to economical science ; as also had the great law, which he first pointed out, of the distribution of the precious metals, by means of the exchanges, in exact proportion to the traffic which would occur if there were no such metals, and if all trade were conducted by barter. The great work of Malthus on Population, and the discussions to which it led, had ascertained the nature arid limits of the connection which exists between the increase of labour and the rate of wages, and had thus cleared away many of the difficulties which beset the path of Adam Smith. While this threw new light on the causes of the distribution of wealth, Rae had analysed those other causes which govern its accumulation, and had shown in what manner capital increases with different speed, in different countries, and at different times. When we, moreover, add that Bentham had demonstrated the advantages 1 I do not except even Kant ; because that extraordinary thinker, who in some directions has perhaps penetrated deeper than any philosopher either before or since, did, in his views respecting logic, so anticipate the limits of all future dis- covery, as to take upon himself to affirm that the notion of inductively obtaining a standard of objective truth was not only impracticable at present, but involved an essential contradiction which would always be irreconcilable. Whoever upon any subject thus sets up a fixed and prospective limit, gives the surest proof that he has not investigated that subject even as far as the existing resources allow ; for he proves that he has not reached that point where certainty ends, and where the dim outline, gradually growing fainter, but always indefinite, teaches us that there is something beyond, and that we have no right to pledge ourselves respecting that undetermined tract. On the other hand, those who stop before they have reached this shadowy outline, see everything clearly because they have not advanced to the place where darkness begins. If I were to venture to criticise such a man as Kant, I should say, after a very careful study of his works, and with the greatest admira- tion of them, that the depth of his mind considerably exceeded its comprehensiveness. HIS 'PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL ECONOMY* 93 and the necessity of usury as part of the social scheme ; that Babbage had with signal ability investigated the principles which govern the economy of labour, and the varying degrees of its pro- ductiveness ; and that the abstract but very important step had been taken by Wakefield of proving that the supposed ultimate division of labour is in reality but a part of the still higher prin- ciple of the co-operation of labour ; when we put these things together, we shall see that Mr. Mill found everything ready to his hand, and had only to combine and apply the generalisations of those great speculative thinkers who immediately preceded him. The success with which he has executed this task is marvellous. His treatise on Political Economy is a manual for statesmen even more than for speculators ; since, though it contains no additions to scientific truths, it is full of practical applications. In it, the most recondite principles are illustrated, and brought to the sur- face, with a force which has convinced many persons whose minds are unable to follow long trains of abstract reasoning, and who re- jected the conclusions of Ricardo, because that illustrious thinker, master though he was of the finest dialectic, lacked the capacity of clothing his arguments in circumstances, and could not adapt them to the ordinary events of political life. This deficiency is supplied by Mr. Mill, who treats political economy as an art even more than as a science. 1 Hence his book is full of suggestions on many of the most important matters which can be submitted to the legislature of a free people. The laws of bequest and of in- heritance ; the law of primogeniture ; the laws of partnership and of limited liability ; the laws of insolvency and of bankruptcy ; the best method of establishing colonies ; the advantages and dis- advantages of the income tax ; the expediency of meeting extra- ordinary expenses by taxation drawn from income or by an increase of the national debt : these are among the subjects mooted by Mr. Mill, and on which he has made proposals, the majority of which are gradually working their way into the public mind. Upon these topics his influence is felt by many who do not know from whence the influence proceeds. And no one can have 1 Thereby becoming necessarily somewhat empirical ; for directly the political economist offers practical suggestions, disturbing causes are let in, and trouble the pure science which depends far more upon reasoning than upon observation No writer I have met with has put this in a short compass with so much clearness as Mr. Senior. See the introduction to his Political Economy, 4th edit. 1858, pp. 2-5. 94 MILL ON LIBERTY attended to the progress of political opinions during the last ten years, without noticing how, in the formation of practical judg- ments, his power is operating on politicians who are utterly heed- less of his higher generalisations, and who would, indeed, in the largest departments of thought, be well content to sleep on in their dull and ancient routine, but that from time to time, and in their own despite, their slumbers are disturbed by a noise from afar, and they are forced to participate in the result of that pro- digious movement which is now gathering on every side, unsettling the stability of affairs, and sapping the foundation of our beliefs. In such intellectual movements, which lie at the root of social actions, the practical classes can take no original part, though, as all history decisively proves, they are eventually obliged to abide by the consequences of them. But it is the peculiar prerogative of certain minds to be able to interpret as well as to originate. To such men a double duty is entrusted. They enjoy the ines- timable privilege of communicating directly with practitioners as well as with speculators, and they can both discover the abstract and manipulate the concrete. The concrete and practical ten- dency of the present age is clearly exhibited in Mr. Mill's work on Political Economy ; while in his work on Logic we may see as clearly the abstract and theoretical tendency of the same period. The former work is chiefly valuable in relation to the functions of government ; the latter in relation to the functions of thought. In the one the art of doing, in the other the science of reasoning. The revolution which he has effected in this great department of speculative knowledge will be best understood by comparing what the science of logic was when he began to write, with what it was after his work was published. Until Mr. Mill entered the field, there were only two systems of logic. The first was the syllogistic system, which was founded by Aristotle, and to which the moderns have contributed nothing of moment, except the discovery during the present century of the quantification of the predicate. 1 The other was the inductive 1 Made by Sir William Hamilton and Mr. De Morgan about the same time and, I believe, independently of each other. Before this, nothing of moment had been added to the Aristotelian doctrine of the syllogism, unless we consider as such the fourth figure. This was unknown to Aristotle ; but it may be doubled if it is essential ; and, if I rightly remember, Sir William Hamilton did not attach much importance to the fourth syllogistic figure, while Archbishop Whately (Logic, 1857, p. 5) calls it 'insignificant.' Compare Mansell's Aldrich, 1856, p. 76. The hypo- HIS 'SYSTEM OF LOGIC' 95 system, as organised by Bacon, to which also it was reserved for our generation to make the first essential addition ; Sir John Herschel having the great merit of ascertaining the existence of four different methods, the boundaries of which had escaped the attention of previous philosophers. 1 That the word logic should by most writers be confined to the syllogistic, or, as it is some- times called, Formal method, is a striking proof of the extent to which language is infested by the old scholastic prejudices ; for as the science of logic is the theory of the process of inference, and as the art of logic is the practical skill of inferring rightly from given data, it is evident that any system is a system of logic which ascertains the laws of the theory, and lays down the rules of the practice. The inductive system of logic may be better or worse than the deductive ; but both are systems. 2 And till nearly thetical syllogism is usually said to be post-Aristotelian ; but although I cannot now recover the passage, I have seen evidence which makes me suspect that it was known to Aristotle, though not formally enunciated by him. 1 This is acknowledged by Mr. Mill, who has stated and analysed these methods with great clearness. Mill's Logic, 4th edit. 1856, voL i. p. 451. 8 Archbishop Whately, who has written what is probably the best elementary treatise existing on formal logic, adopts the old opinion that the inductive ' process of inquiry' by which premises are obtained, is 'out of the province of logic.' Whately's Logic, 1857, p. 151. Mr. De Morgan, whose extremely able work goes much deeper into the subject than Archbishop Whately's, is, however, content with excluding induction, not from logic, but from formal logic. ' What is now called induction, meaning the discovery of laws from instances, and higher laws from lower ones, is beyond the province of formal logic.' De Morgan's Logic, 1847, p. 215. As a law of nature is frequently the major premiss of a syllogism, this state- ment of Mr. De Morgan's seems unobjectionable. The point at issue involves much more than a mere dispute respecting words, and I therefore add, without subscribing to, the view of another eminent authority. ' To entitle any work to be classed as the logic of this or that school, it is at least necessary that it should, in common with the Aristotelian logic, adhere to the syllogistic method, whatever modifications or additions it may derive from the particular school of its author. ' Mansell's Introduction to Aldrich's Artis Logtcce Rudimenta, 1856, p. xlii. See also Appendix, pp. 194, 195, and Mr. Mansell's Prolegomena Logica, 1851, pp. 89, 169. On the other hand, Bacon, who considered the syllogism to be worse than useless, distinctly claims the tide of ' logical ' for his inductive system. ' Illud vero monendum, nos in hoc nostro organo tractare logicam, non philosophiam.' No-cunt Organum, lib. ii. aphor. Hi. in Bacon's Works, vol. iv. p. 382. This should be compared with the remarks of Sir William Hamilton on inductive logic in his Discussions, 1852, p. 158. What strikes one most in this controversy is, that none of the great advocates of the exclusive right of the syllogistic system to the word ' logic ' appear to be well acquainted with physical science. They, there- fore, cannot understand the real nature of induction in the modem sense of the term, and they naturally depreciate a method with whose triumphs they have no sympathy. 96 MILL ON LIBERTY the middle of the present century, men were divided between the Aristotelian logic which infers from generals to particulars, and the Baconian logic which infers from particulars to generals. 1 While the science of logic was in this state, there appeared, in 1843, Mr. Mill's ' System of Logic' ; the fundamental idea of which is, that the logical process is not from generals to particu- lars, nor from particulars to generals, but from particulars to particulars. According to this view, which is gradually securing the adhesion of thinkers, the syllogism, instead of being an act of reasoning, is an act, first of registration, and then of interpreta- tion. The major premiss of a syllogism being the record of pre- vious induction, the business of the syllogism is to interpret that record and bring it to light In the syllogism we preserve our experience, and we also realise it ; but the reasoning is at an end when the major premiss is enunciated. For after that enuncia- tion, no fresh truth is propounded. As soon, therefore, as the major is stated, the argument is over ; because the general proposition is- but a register, or, as it were, a note-book of inferences which involve everything at issue. While, however, the syllogism is not a process of reasoning, it is a security that the previous reasoning is good. And this in three ways. In the first place, by interposing a general proposition between the collection of the first particulars and the statement of the last particulars, it pre- sents a larger object to the imagination than would be possible if we had only the particulars in our mind. In the second place, the syllogism serves as an artificial memory, and enables us to preserve order among a mass of details ; being at once a formula into which we throw them, and a contrivance by which we recall them. Finally, the syllogism is a protection against negligence ; since when we infer from a number of observed cases to a case we have not yet observed, we, instead of jumping at once to that case, state a general proposition which includes it, and which must be true if our conclusion is true ; so that by this means if 1 To what extent Aristotle did or did not recogn'se an induction of particulars as the first step in our knowledge, and therefore as the base of every major premiss, has been often disputed ; but I have not heard that any of the disputants have adopted the only means by which such a question can be tested namely, bringing together the most decisive passages from Aristotle, and then leaving them to the judgment of the reader. As this seems to be the most impartial way of proceeding, I have gone through Aristotle's logical works with a view to it ; and those who are interested in these matters will find the extracts at the end of this essay. LOGIC AND INDUCTION 97 we have reasoned erroneously, the error becomes more broad and conspicuous. This remarkable analysis of the nature and functions of the syllogism is, so far as our present knowledge goes, exhaustive : whether or not it will admit of still further resolution we cannot tell. At all events it is a contribution of the greatest importance to the science of reasoning, and involves many other speculative questions which are indirectly connected with it, but which I shall not now open up. Neither need I stop to show how it affords a basis for establishing the true distinction between induction and deduction, a distinction which Mr. Mill is one of the ex- tremely few English writers who has thoroughly understood, since it is commonly supposed in this country that geometry is the proper type of deduction, whereas it is only one of the types, and though an admirable pattern of the deductive investigation of coexistences, throws no light on the deductive investigation of sequences. But, passing over these matters as too large to be discussed here, I would call attention to a fundamental principle which underlies Mr. Mill's philosophy, and from which it will appear that he is as much opposed to the advocates of the Baconian method as to those of the Aristotelian. In this respect he has been, perhaps unconsciously, greatly influenced by the spirit of the age ; for it might be easily shown, and indeed will hardly be disputed, that during the last fifty years an opinion has been gaining ground that the Baconian system has been overrated, and that its favourite idea of proceeding from effects to causes, instead of from causes to effects, will not carry us so far as was supposed by the truly great, though somewhat empirical thinkers of the eighteenth century. One point in which the inductive philosophy commonly re- ceived in England is very inaccurate, and which Mr. Mill has justly attacked, is, that following the authority of Bacon, it insists upon all generalisations being conducted by ascending from each generalisation to the one immediately above and ad- joining ; and it denounces as hasty and unphilosophic any attempt to soar to a higher stage without mastering the intermediate steps. 1 This is an undue limitation of that peculiar property of 1 ' Ascendendo continenter et gradatim, ut ultimo loco perveniatur ad maxime generalia ; quoe via vera est, sed intentata.' Navum Organum, lib. i. aphor. xix in Bacon's Works, voL iv. p. 268. London, 1778 ; 410. And in lib. i. aphor. civ. VOL. I. H 98 MILL ON LIBERTY genius which, for want of a better word, we call intuition ; and that in this respect Bacon's philosophy was too narrow, and placed men too much on a par 1 by obliging them all to use the same method, is now frequently though not generally admitted, and has been perceived by several philosophers. 2 The objections raised by Mr. Mill on this ground, though put with great ability, are, as he would be the first to confess, not original ; and the same remark may be made in a smaller degree concerning another objection namely, that Bacon did not attach sufficient weight to the plu- rality of causes, 3 and did not see that the great complexity they produce would often baffle his method, and would render another method necessary. But while Mr. Mill has in these parts of his work been anticipated, there is a more subtle, and, as it appears to me, a more fatal objection which he has made against the Baconian philosophy. And as this objection, besides being en- tirely new, lies far out of the path of ordinary speculation, it has hardly yet attracted the notice even of philosophic logicians, and the reader will probably be interested in hearing a simple and untechnical statement of it Logic, considered as a science, is solely concerned with induc- tion ; and the business of induction is to arrive at causes ; or, to speak more strictly, to arrive at a knowledge of the laws of causa- tion. 4 So far Mr. Mill agrees with Bacon ; but from the operation p. 294 ' Sed de scientiis turn demum bene sperandum est, quando per scalam veram et per gradus continues et non intermissos, aut hiulcos, a particularibus ascendetur ad axiomata minora, et deinde ad media, alia aliis superiora, et pos- tremo demum ad generalissima.' 1 ' Nostra vero inveniendi scientias ea est ratio, ut non multum ingeniorum acumini et robori relinquatur ; sed qux ingenia et intellectus fere exaequet.' Novum Organum, lib. i. aphor. Ixi. ; Bacon's Works, vol. iv. p. 275. And in lib. i. aphor, cxxii. {Works, vol. iv. p. 301], 'Nostra enim via inveniendi scientias exaequat fere ingenia, et non multum excellentiae eorum relinquit ; cum omnia per certissimas regulas et demonstrationes transigat.' 2 And is noticed in Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, 1847, vol. ii. p. 240 ; though this celebrated writer, so far from connecting it with Bacon's doctrine of gradual and uninterrupted ascent, considers such doctrine to be the peculiar merit of Bacon, and accuses those who hold a contrary opinion, of ' dim- ness of vision,' pp. 126, 232. Happily, all are not dim who are said to be so. 3 Mill's Logic, fourth edition, vol ii. p. 321. I am almost sure this remark had been made before. 4 ' The main question of the science of logic is induction, which however is almost entirely passed over by professed writers on logic.' Mill's Logic, vol. i. p. 309. ' The chief object of inductive logic is to point out how the laws of causation are to be ascertained.' Vol. i. p. 407. 'The mental process with which logic is LOGIC AND INDUCTION 99 of this rule he removes an immense body of phenomena which were brought under it by the Baconian philosophy. He asserts, and I think he proves, that though uniformities of succession may be investigated inductively, it is impossible to investigate, after that fashion, uniformities of coexistence; and that, therefore, to these last the Baconian method is inapplicable. If, for instance, we say that all negroes have woolly hair, we affirm an uniformity of coexistence between the hair and some other property or pro- perties essential to the negro. But if we were to say that they have woolly hair in consequence of their skin being black, we should affirm an uniformity not of coexistence, but of succession. Uniformities of succession are frequently amenable to induction : uniformities of coexistence are never amenable to it, and are consequently out of the jurisdiction of the Baconian philosophy. They may, no doubt, be treated according to the simple enumera- tion of the ancients, which, however, was so crude an induction as hardly to be worthy the name. 1 But the powerful induction of the moderns, depending upon a separation of nature and an elimi- nation of disturbances, is, in reference to coexistences, absolutely impotent. The utmost that it can give is empirical laws, useful for practical guidance, but void of scientific value. That this has hitherto been the case the history of our knowledge decisively proves. That it always will be the case is, in Mr. Mill's opinion, equally certain, because while, on the one hand, the study of uniformities of succession has for its basis that absorbing and conversant, the operation of ascertaining truths by means of evidence, is always, even when appearances point to a different theory of it, a process of induction.' Vol ii. p. 177. 1 The character of the Aristotelian induction is so justly portrayed by Mr. Maurice in his admirable account of the Greek philosophy, that I cannot resist ihe pleasure of transcribing the passage. ' What this induction is, and how entirely it differs from that process which bears the same name in the writings of Bacon, the reader will perceive the more he studies the different writings of Aristotle. He will find first, that the sens\b\e phenomenon is taken for granted as a safe starting point. That phenomena are not principles, Aristotle believed as strongly as we could. But, to suspect phenomena, to suppose that they need sifting and probing in order that we may kno*- what the fact is which they denote, this is no part of his system.' Maurice's Ancient Philosophy, 1850, p. 173. Nothing can be better than the ex- pression that Aristotle did not suspect phenomena. The moderns do suspect them, and therefore test them either by crucial experiments or by averages. The latter resource was not effectively employed until the eighteenth century. It now bids fair to be of immense importance, though in some branches of inquiry the nomen- clature must become more precise before the full value of the method can be seen. H 2 100 MILL ON LIBERTY overruling hypothesis of the constancy of causation, on which every human being more or less relies, and to which philosophers will hear of no exception ; we, on the other hand, find that the study of the uniformities of co-existence has no such support, and that therefore the whole field of inquiry is unsettled and indeter- minate. Thus it is that if I see a negro suffering pain, the law of causation compels me to believe that something had previously happened of which pain was the necessary consequence. But I am not bound to believe that he possesses some property of which his woolly hair or dark skin are the necessary accompaniments. I cling to the necessity of an uniform sequence ; I reject the neces- sity of an uniform coexistence. This is the difference between consequences and concomitants. That the pain has a cause, I am well assured. But for aught I can tell, the blackness and the woolliness may be ultimate properties which are referrible to no cause; 1 or if they are not ultimate properties, each may be dependent on its own cause, but not be necessarily connected. The relation, therefore, may be universal in regard to the fact, and yet casual in regard to the science. This distinction when once stated is very simple ; but its con- sequences in relation to the science of logic had escaped all previous thinkers. When thoroughly appreciated, it will dispel the idle dream of the universal application of the Baconian philo- sophy ; and in the meantime it will explain how it was that even during Bacon's life, and in his own hands, his method frequently and signally failed. He evidently believed that as every phe- nomenon has something which must follow from it, so also it has something which must go with it, and which he termed its Form. 2 If he could generalise the form that is to say, if he could obtain the law of the coexistence he rightly supposed that he would 1 That is, not logically referrible by the understanding. I say nothing of causes which touch on transcendental grounds ; but, barring these, Mr. Mill's assertion seems unimpeachable, that ' coexistences between the ultimate properties of things' . . . 'cannot depend on causation,' unless by 'ascending to the origin of all things.' Mill's Logic, vol. ii. p. 106. 2 ' Etenim forma naturae alicujus talis est, ut, ea posita, natura data infallibiliter sequatur. Itaque adest perpetuo, quando natura ilia adest, atque earn universaliter affirmat, atque inest omni. Eadem forma talis est, ut ea amota, natura data infal- libiliter fugiat. Itaque abest perpetuo quando natura ilia abest, eamque perpetuo abnegat, atque inest soli.' Novum Organum, lib. ii. aphor. iv. ; Works, vol. iv. p. 307. Compare also, respecting these forms, his treatise on The Advancement of Learning, book ii. ; Works, vol. i. pp. 57, 58, 61, 62. DEFECTS OF THE INDUCTIVE SYSTEM lol gain a scientific knowledge of the phenomenon. With this view he taxed his fertile invention to the utmost. He contrived a variety of refined and ingenious artifices, by which various in- stances might be succesfully compared, and the conditions which are essential distinguished from those which are non-essential. He collated negatives with affirmatives, and taught the art of separating nature by rejections and exclusions. Yet, in regard to the study of coexistences, all his caution, all his knowledge, and all his thought were useless. His weapons, notwithstanding their power, could make no impression on that stubborn and refractory topic. The laws of coexistences are as great a mystery as ever, and all our conclusions respecting them are purely empirical. Every inductive science now existing is, in its strictly scientific part, solely a generalisation of sequences. The reason of this, though vaguely appreciated by several writers, was first clearly stated and connected with the general theory of our knowledge by Mr. Mill. He has the immense merit of striking at once to the very root of the subject, and showing that, in the science of logic, there is a fundamental distinction which forbids us to treat co- existences as we may treat sequences ; that a neglect of this distinction impairs the value of the philosophy of Bacon, and has crippled his successors; and finally, that the origin of this dis- tinction may be traced backward and upward until we reach those ultimate laws of causation which support the fabric of our know- ledge, and beyond which the human mind, in the present stage of its development, is unable to penetrate. While Mr. Mill, both by delving to the foundation and rising to the summit, has excluded the Baconian philosophy from the investigation of coexistences, he has likewise proved its inca- pacity for solving those vast social problems which now, for the first time in the history of the world, the most advanced thinkers are setting themselves to work at deliberately, with scientific purpose, and with something like adequate resources. As this, however, pertains to that domain to which I, too, according to my measure and with whatever power I may haply possess, have devoted myself, I am unwilling to discuss here what elsewhere I shall find a fitter place for considering ; and I shall be content if I have conveyed to the reader some idea of what has been effected by one whom I cannot but regard as the most profound thinker England has produced since the seventeenth century, and whose 102 MILL ON LIBERTY services, though recognised by innumerable persons each in his own peculiar walk, are little understood in their entirety, because we, owing partly to the constantly increasing mass of our know- ledge, and partly to an excessive veneration for the principle of the division of labour, are too prone to isolate our inquiries and to narrow the range of our intellectual sympathies. The notion that a man will best succeed by adhering to one pursuit, is as true in practical life as it is false in speculative life. No one can have a firm grasp of any science if, by confining himself to it, he shuts out the light of analogy, and deprives himself of that peculiar aid which is derived from a commanding survey of the co-ordination and inter-dependence of things and of the relation they bear to each other. He may, no doubt, work at the details of his subject ; he may be useful in adding to its facts ; he will never be able to enlarge its philosophy. For, the philosophy of every department depends on its connection with other depart- ments, and must therefore be sought at their points of contact. It must be looked for in the place where they touch and coalesce; it lies not in the centre of each science, but on the confines and margin. This, however, is a truth which men are apt to reject, because they are naturally averse to comprehensive labour, and are too ready to believe that their own peculiar and limited science is so important that they would not be justified in striking into paths which diverge from it. Hence we see physical philo- sophers knowing nothing of political economy, political eco- nomists nothing of physical science, and logicians nothing of either. Hence, too, there are few indeed who are capable of measuring the enormous field which Mr. Mill has traversed, or of scanning the depth to which in that field he has sunk his shaft. It is from such a man as this, that a work has recently issued upon a subject far more important than any which even he had previously investigated, and in fact the most important with which the human mind can grapple. For, Liberty is the one thing most essential to the right development of individuals and to the real grandeur of nations. It is a product of knowledge when know- ledge advances in a healthy and regular manner ; but if under certain unhappy circumstances it is opposed by what seems to be knowledge, then, in God's name, let knowledge perish and Liberty be preserved. Liberty is not a means to an end, it is an end itself. To secure it, to enlarge it, and to diffuse it, should be THE VALUE OF LIBERTY IO3 the main object of all social arrangements and of all political con- trivances. None but a pedant or a tyrant can put science or literature in competition with it. Within certain limits, and very small limits too, it is the inalienable prerogative of man, of which no force of circumstances and no lapse of time can deprive him. He has no right to barter it away even from himself, still less from his children. It is the foundation of all self-respect, and without it the great doctrine of moral responsibility would degenerate into a lie and a juggle. It is a sacred deposit, and the love of it is a holy instinct engraven in our hearts. And if it could be shown that the tendency of advancing knowledge is to encroach upon it ; if it could be proved that in the march of what we call civilization the desire for liberty did necessarily decline, and the exercise of liberty become less frequent ; if this could be made apparent, I for one should wish that the human race might halt in its career, and that we might recede step by step, so that the very trophies and memory of our glory should vanish, sooner than that men were bribed by their splendour to forget the sentiment of their own personal dignity. But it cannot be. Surely it cannot be that we, improving in all other things, should be retrograding in the most essential. Yet among thinkers of great depth and authority there is a fear that such is the case. With that fear I cannot agree ; but the existence of the fear, and the discussions to which it has led and will lead are extremely salutary, as calling our attention to an evil which in the eagerness of our advance we might otherwise overlook. We are stepping on at a rate of which no previous example has been seen ; and it is good that, amid the pride and flush of our pro- sperity, we should be made to inquire what price we have paid for our success. Let us compute the cost as well as the gain. Before we announce our fortune we should balance our books. Every one, therefore, should rejoice at the appearance of a work in which for the first time the great question of liberty is unfolded in all its dimensions, considered on every side and from every aspect, and brought to bear upon our present condition with a steadiness of hand and a clearness of purpose which they will most admire who are most accustomed to reflect on this difficult and compli- cated topic. In the actual state of the world, Mr. Mill rightly considers that the least important part of the question of liberty is that which 104 MILL, ON LIBERTY concerns the relation between subjects and rulers. On this point, notwithstanding the momentary ascendency of despotism on the Continent, there is, I believe, nothing to dread. In France and Germany the bodies of men are enslaved, but not their minds. Nearly all the intellect of Europe is arrayed against tyranny, and the ultimate result of such a struggle can hardly be doubted. The immense armies which are maintained, and which some mention as a proof that the love of war is increasing instead of diminishing, are merely an evidence that the governing classes distrust and suspect the future, and know that their real danger is to be found not abroad but at home. They fear revolution far more than invasion. The state of foreign affairs is their pretence for arming ; the state of public opinion is the cause. And right glad they are to find a decent pretext for protecting themselves from that punishment which many of them richly deserve. But I cannot understand how any one who has carefully studied the march of the European mind, and has seen it triumph over obstacles ten times more formidable than these, can really appre- hend that the liberties of Europe will ultimately fall before those who now threaten their existence. When the spirit of freedom was far less strong and less universal, the task was tried, and tried in vain. It is hardly to be supposed that the monarchical principle, decrepit as it now is, and stripped of that dogma of divine right which long upheld it, can eventually withstand the pressure of those general causes which, for three centuries, have marked it for destruction. And, since despotism has chosen the institution of monarchy as that under which it seeks a shelter, and for which it will fight its last battle, we may fairly assume that the danger is less imminent than is commonly imagined, and that they who rely on an old and enfeebled principle, with which neither the religion nor the affections of men are associated as of yore, will find that they are leaning on a broken reed, and that the sceptre of their power will pass from them. I cannot, therefore, participate in the feelings of those who look with apprehension at the present condition of Europe. Mr. Mill would perhaps take a less sanguine view ; but it is observable that the greater part of his defence of liberty is not directed against political tyranny. There is, however, another sort of tyranny which is far more insidious, and against which he has chiefly bent his efforts. This is the despotism of custom, to which AUTHORITY OF SOCIETY OVER THE INDIVIDUAL 105 ordinary minds entirely succumb, and before which even strong minds quail But custom being merely the product of public opinion, or rather its external manifestation, the two principles of custom and opinion must be considered together ; and I will briefly state how, according to Mr. Mill, their joint action is producing serious mischief, and is threatening mischief more serious still. The proposition which Mr. Mill undertakes to establish, is that society, whether acting by the legislature or by the influence of public opinion, has no right to interfere with the conduct of any individual for the sake of his own good. Society may interfere with him for their good, not for his. If his actions hurt them, he is, under certain circumstances, amenable to their authority ; if they only hurt himself, he is never amenable. The proposition, thus stated, will be acceded to by many persons who, in practice, repudiate it every day of their lives. The ridicule which is cast upon whoever deviates from an established custom, however trifling and foolish that custom may be, shows the determination of society to exercise arbitrary sway over individuals. On the most insignificant as well as on the most important matters, rules are laid down which no one dares to violate, except in those extremely rare cases in which great intellect, great wealth, or great rank enable a man rather to command society than to be commanded by it. The immense mass of mankind are, in regard to their usages, in a state of social slavery ; each man being bound under heavy penalties to conform to the standard of life common to his own class. How serious those penalties are is evident from the fact that though innumerable persons complain of prevailing customs, and wish to shake them off, they dare not do so, but con- tinue to practise them, though frequently at the expense of health, comfort, and fortune. Men, not cowards in other respects, and of a fair share of moral courage, are afraid to rebel against this grievous and exacting tyranny. The consequences of this are injurious, not only to those who desire to be freed from the thral- dom, but also to those who do not desire to be freed ; that is, to the whole of society. Of these results, there are two particularly mischievous, and which, in the opinion of Mr. Mill, are likely to gain ground, unless some sudden change of sentiment should occur. The first mischief is, that a sufficient number of experiments are not made respecting the different ways of living ; from which 106 MILL ON LIBERTY it happens that the art of life is not so well understood as it otherwise would be. If society were more lenient to eccentricity, and more inclined to examine what is unusual than to laugh at it, we should find that many courses of conduct which we call whimsical, and which according to the ordinary standard are utterly irrational, have more reason in them than we are disposed to imagine. But, while a country or an age will obstinately insist upon condemning all human conduct which is not in accordance with the manner or fashion of the day, deviations from the straight line will be rarely hazarded. We are, therefore, prevented from knowing how far such deviations would be useful. By dis- couraging the experiment, we retard the knowledge. On this account, if on no other, it is advisable that the widest latitude should be given to unusual actions, which ought to be valued as tests whereby we may ascertain whether or not particular things are expedient. Of course, the essentials of morals are not to be violated, nor the public peace to be disturbed. But short of this, every indulgence should be granted. For progress depends upon change ; and it is only by practising uncustomary things that we can discover if they are fit to become customary. The other evil which society inflicts on herself by her own tyranny is still more serious ; and, although I cannot go with Mr. Mill in considering the danger to be so imminent as he does, there can, I think, be little doubt that it is the one weak point in modern civilization ; and that it is the only thing of importance in which, if we are not actually receding, we are making no perceptible advance. This is, that most precious and inestimable quality, the quality of individuality. That the increasing authority of society, if not counteracted by other causes, tends to limit the exercise of this quality, seems indisputable. Whether or not there are counter- acting causes is a question of great complexity, and could not be discussed without entering into the general theory of our existing civilization. With the most unfeigned deference for every opinion enunciated by Mr. Mill, I venture to differ from him on this matter, and to think that, on the whole, individuality is not diminishing, and that so far as we can estimate the future, it is not likely to diminish. But it would ill become any man to combat the views of this great thinker, without subjecting the point at issue to a rigid and careful analysis ; and as I have not AUTHORITY OF SOCIETY OYER THE INDIVIDUAL IO/ done so, I will not weaken my theory by advancing imperfect arguments in its favour, but will, as before, confine myself to stating the conclusions at which he has arrived, after what has evidently been a train of long and anxious reflection. According to Mr. Mill, things are tending, and have for some time tended, to lessen the influence of original minds, and to raise mediocrity to the foremost place. Individuals are lost in the crowd. The world is ruled not by them, but by public opinion ; and public opinion, being the voice of the many, is the voice of mediocrity. Affairs are now governed by average men, who will not pay to great men the deference that was formerly yielded. Energy and originality, being less respected, are becoming more rare ; and in England in particular, real energy has hardly any field, except in business, where a large amount of it undoubtedly exists. 1 Our greatness is collective, and depends not upon what we do as individuals, but upon our power of combining. In ever}- successive generation, men more resemble each other in all respects. They are more alike in their civil and political privileges, in their habits, in their tastes, in their manners, in their dress, in what they see, in what they do, in what they read, in what they think, and in what they say. On all sides the process of assimila- tion is going on. Shades of character are being blended, and contrasts of will are being reconciled. As a natural consequence, the individual life, that is, the life which distinguishes each man from his fellows, is perishing. The consolidation of the many destroys the action of the few. While we amalgamate the mass, we absorb the unit. The authority of society is, in this way, ruining society itself. For the human faculties can, for the most part, only be exercised and disciplined by the act of choosing ; but he who does a thing merely because others do it, makes no choice at all. Constantly copying the manners and opinions of our contemporaries, we strike out nothing that is new ; we follow on in a dull and monotonous uniformity. We go where others lead. The field of option is being straitened ; the number of alternatives is diminishing. And the result is, a sensible decay of that vigour and raciness of 1 ' There is now scarcely any outlet for energy in this country except business. The energy expended in that may still be regarded as considerable.' Mill On Liberty, p. 125. I suppose that, under the word business, Mr. Mill includes political and the higher class of official pursuits. 108 MILL ON LIBERTY character, that diversity and fulness of life, and that audacity both of conception and of execution which marked the strong men of former times, and enabled them at once to improve and to guide the human species. Now all this is gone, perhaps never to return, unless some great convulsion should previously occur. Originality is dying away, and is being replaced by a spirit of servile and apish imita- tion. We are degenerating into machines who do the will of society ; our impulses and desires are repressed by a galling and artificial code ; our minds are dwarfed and stunted by the checks and limitations to which we are perpetually subjected. How, then, is it possible to discover new truths of real import- ance ? How is it possible that creative thought can flourish in so sickly and tainted an atmosphere ? Genius is a form of originality ; if the originality is discouraged, how can the genius remain ? It is hard to see the remedy for this crying evil. Society is growing so strong as to destroy individuality ; that is, to destroy the very quality to which our civilization, and therefore our social fabric, is primarily owing. The truth is, that we must vindicate the right of each man to do what he likes, and to say what he thinks, to an extent much greater than is usually supposed to be either safe or decent. This we must do for the sake of society, quite as much as for our own sake. That society would be benefited by a greater freedom of action has been already shown ; and the same thing may be proved concerning freedom of speech and of writing. In this respect authors, and the teachers of mankind generally, are far too timid ; while the state of public opinion is far too interfering. The remarks which Mr. Mill has made on this are so exhaustive as to be unanswerable ; and though many will call in question what he has said respecting the decline of individuality, no well- instructed person will dispute the accuracy of his conclusions respecting the need of an increased liberty of discussion and of publication. In the present state of knowledge the majority of people are so ill-informed as not to be aware of the true nature of belief ; they are not aware that all belief is involuntary, and is entirely governed by the circumstances which produce it. They who have paid attention to these subjects, know that what we call the will has no power over belief, and that consequently a man is nowise respon- NEED OF INCREASED LIBERTY OF DISCUSSION 1 09 sible for his creed, except in so far as he is responsible for the events which gave him his creed. Whether, for instance, he is a Mohammedan or a Christian, will usually resolve itself into a simple question of his geographical antecedents. He who is born in Constantinople will hold one set of opinions ; he who is born in London will hold another set. Both act according to their light and their circumstances, and if both are sincere both are guiltless. In each case, the believer is controlled by physical facts which determine his creed, and over which he can no more exercise authority than he can exercise authority over the movements of the planets or the rotation of the earth. This view, though long familiar to thinkers, can hardly be said to have been popularised before the present century ; l and to its diffusion, as well as to other larger and more potent causes, we must ascribe the increasing spirit of toleration to which not only our literature but even our statute-book bears witness. But, though belief is involuntary, it will be objected, with a certain degree of plausibility, that the expression of that belief, and particularly the formal and written publication, is a voluntary act, and consequently a responsible one. If I were arguing the question exhaustively, I should at the outset demur to this propo- sition, and should require it to be stated in more cautious and limited terms ; but, to save time, let us suppose it to be true, and let us inquire whether, if a man be responsible to himself for the publication of his opinions, it is right that he should also be held responsible by those to whom he offers them. In other words, is it proper that law or public opinion should discourage an indivi- dual from publishing sentiments which are hostile to the prevailing notions, and are considered by the rest of society to be false and mischievous ? Upon this point, the arguments of Mr. Mill are so full and decisive that I despair of adding anything to them. It will be enough if I give a summary of the principal ones ; for it would be strange, indeed, if before many months are past, this noble treatise, so full of wisdom and of thought, is not in the hands of every one who cares for the future welfare of humanity, and whose ideas rise above the immediate interests of his own time. 1 Its diffusion was greatly helped by Bailey's Essays OH the Formation of Opinions, which were first published, I believe, in 1821, and being popularly written, as well as suitable to the age, have exercised considerable influence. 1 10 MILL ON LIBERTY Those who hold that an individual ought to be discouraged from publishing a work containing heretical or irreligious opinions, must, of course, assume that such opinions are false ; since, in the present day, hardly any man would be so impudent as to propose that a true opinion should be stifled because it was un- usual as well as true. We are all agreed that truth is good ; or, at all events, those who are not agreed must be treated as persons beyond the pale of reason, and on whose obtuse understandings it would be idle to waste an argument. He who says that truth is not always to be told, and that it is not fit for all minds, is simply a defender of falsehood ; and we should take no notice of him inasmuch as the object of discussion being to destroy error, we cannot discuss with a man who deliberately affirms that error should be spared. We take therefore for granted that those who seek to prevent any opinion being laid before the world, do so for the sake of truth, and with a view to prevent the unwary from being led into error. The intention is good ; it remains for us to inquire how it operates. Now, in the first place, we can never be sure that the opinion of the majority is true. Nearly every opinion held by the majority was once confined to the minority. Every established religion was once a heresy. If the opinions of the majority had always prevailed, Christianity would have been extirpated as soon as Christ was murdered. If an age or a people assume that any notion they entertain is certainly right, they assume their own infallibility, and arrogantly claim for themselves a prerogative which even the wisest of mankind never possess. To affirm that a doctrine is unquestionably revealed from above, is equally to affirm their own infallibility, since they affirm that they cannot be mistaken in believing it to be revealed. A man who is sure that his creed is true, is sure of his own infallibility, because he is sure that upon that point he has committed no error. Unless, there- fore, we are prepared to claim, on our own behalf, an immunity from error, and an incapability of being mistaken, which tran- scend the limits of the human mind, we are bound not only to permit our opinions to be disputed, but to be grateful, to those who will do so. For, as no one who is not absurdly and im- modestly confident of his own powers, can be sure that what he believes to be true is true, it will be his object, if he be an honest BENEFITS DERIVED FROM FREE DISCUSSION III man, to rectify the errors he may have committed. But it is a matter of history that errors have only been rectified by two means ; namely, by experience and discussion. The use of discussion is to show how experience is to be interpreted. Experience alone has never improved either mankind or individuals. Experience, before it can be available, must be sifted and tested. This is done by discussion, which brings out the meaning of experience, and enables us to apply the observations that have been made, and turn them to account. Human judgment owes its value solely to the fact that when it is wrong it is possible to set it right. Inas- much, however, as it can only be set right by the conflict and collision of hostile opinions, it is clear that when those opinions are smothered, and when that conflict is stopped, the means of correcting our judgment are gone, and hence the value of our judgment is destroyed. The more therefore that the majority discourage the opinions of the minority, the smaller is the chance of the majority holding accurate views. But if, instead of dis- couraging the opinions, they should suppress them, even that small chance is taken away, and society can have no option but to go on from bad to worse, its blunders becoming more inveterate and more mischievous, in proportion as that liberty of discussion which might have rectified them has been the longer withheld. Here we, as the advocates of liberty, might fairly close the argument, leaving our opponents in the dilemma of either asserting their own infallibility, or else of abandoning the idea of interfering with freedom of discussion. So complete, however, is our case, that we can actually afford to dispense with what has been just stated, and support our views on other and totally different grounds. We will concede to those who favour restriction all the premises that they require. We will concede to them the strongest position that they can imagine, and we will take for granted that a nation has the means of knowing with absolute certainty that some of its opinions are right. We say then, and we will prove that, assuming those opinions to be true, it is advisable that they should be com- bated, and that their truth should be denied. That an opinion which is held by an immense majority, and which is moreover completely and unqualifiedly true, ought to be contested, and that those who contest it do a public service, appears at first sight to be an untenable paradox. A paradox indeed it is, if by a paradox we mean an assertion not generally admitted : but, so far from being 112 MILL ON LIBERTY untenable, it is a sound and wholesome doctrine, which if it were adopted, would to an extraordinary extent facilitate the progress of society. Supposing any well-established opinion to be certainly true, the result of its not being vigorously attacked is, that it becomes more passive and inert than it would otherwise be. This, as Mr. Mill observes, has been exemplified in the history of Christianity. In the early Church, while Christianity was struggling against innumerable opponents, it displayed a life and an energy which diminished in proportion as the opposition was withdrawn. When an enemy is at the gate the garrison is alert. If the enemy re- tires the alertness slackens ; and if he disappears altogether, nothing remains but the mere forms and duty of discipline, which, unenlivened by danger, grow torpid and mechanical. This is a law of the human mind, and is of universal application. Every religion after being established loses much of its vitality. Its doc- trines being less questioned, it naturally happens that those who hold them scrutinise them less closely, and therefore grasp them less firmly. Their wits being no longer sharpened by controversy, what was formerly a living truth dwindles into a dead dogma. The excitement of the battle being over, the weapons are laid aside ; they fall into disuse ; they grow rusty ; the skill and fire of the warrior are gone. It is amid the roar of the cannon, the flash of the bayonet, and the clang of tfie trumpet, that the forms of men dilate ; they swell with emotion ; their bulk increases ; their stature rises, and even small natures wax into great ones, able to do all and to dare all. So indeed it is. On any subject universal acquiescence always engenders universal apathy. By a parity of reasoning, the greater the acquiescence the greater the apathy. All hail therefore to those who, by attacking a truth, prevent that truth from slumber- ing. All hail to those bold and fearless natures, the heretics and innovators of their day, who, rousing men out of their lazy sleep, sound in their ears the tocsin and the clarion, and force them to come forth that they may do battle for their creed. Of all evils, torpor is the most deadly. Give us paradox, give us error, give us what you will, so that you save us from stagnation. It is the cold spirit of routine which is the nightshade of our nature. It sits upon men like a blight, blunting their faculties, withering their powers, and making them both unable and unwilling either BENEFITS DERIVED FROM FREE DISCUSSION 113 to struggle for the truth, or to figure to themselves what it is that they really believe. See how this has acted in regard to the doctrines of the New Testament. When those doctrines were first propounded, they were vigorously assailed, and therefore the early Christians clung to them, realised them, and bound them up in their hearts to an extent unparalleled in any subsequent age. Every Christian pro- fesses to believe that it is good to be ill-used and buffeted ; that wealth is an evil, because rich men cannot enter the kingdom of heaven ; that if your cloak is taken, you must give your coat also ; that if you are smitten on your cheek, you should turn round and offer the other. These, and similiar doctrines, the early Christians not only professed, but acted up to and followed. The same doctrines are contained in our Bibles, read in our churches, and preached in our pulpits. Who is there that obeys them ? And what reason is there for this universal defection, beyond the fact that when Christianity was constantly assailed, those who received its tenets held them with a tenacity, and saw them with a vivid- ness which cannot be expected in an age that sanctions them by general acquiescence ? Now, indeed, they are not only acquiesced in, they are also watched over and sedulously protected. They are protected by law, and by that public opinion which is infinitely more powerful than any law. Hence it is, that to them, men yield a cold and lifeless assent ; they hear them and they talk about them, but whoever was to obey them with that scrupulous fidelity which was formerly practised, would find to his cost how much he had mistaken his age, and how great is the difference, in vitality and in practical effect, between doctrines which are generally re- ceived and those which are fearlessly discussed. In proportion as knowledge has advanced, and habits of correct thinking been diffused, men have gradually approached towards these views of liberty, though Mr. Mill has been the first to bring them together in a thoroughly comprehensive spirit, and to con- centrate in a single treatise all the arguments in their behalf. How even-thing has long tended to this result must be known to whoever has studied the history of the English mind. Whatever may be the case respecting the alleged decline of individuality, and the increasing tyranny of custom, there can, at all events, be no doubt that, in religious matters, public opinion is constantly VOL. I. I 114 MILL ON LIBERTY becoming more liberal. The legal penalties which our ignorant and intolerant ancestors inflicted upon whoever differed from them- selves, are now some of them repealed, and some of them obsolete. Not only have we ceased to murder or torture those who disagree with us, but, strange to say, we have even recognised their claim to political rights as well as to civil equality. The admission of the Jews into Parliament, that just and righteous measure, which was carried in the teeth of the most cherished and inveterate prejudice, is a striking proof of the force of the general move- ment ; as also is the rapidly increasing disposition to abolish oaths and to do away in public life with every species of religious tests. Partly as cause, and partly as effect of all this, there never was a period in which so many bold and able attacks were made upon the prevailing theology, and in which so many heretical doctrines were propounded, not only by laymen, but occasionally by minis- ters of the church, some of the most eminent of whom have, during the present generation, come forward to denounce the errors in their own system, and to point out the flaws in their own creed. The unorthodox character of physical science is equally notorious ; and many of its professors do not scruple to impeach the truth of statements which are still held to be essen- tial, and which, in other days, no one could have impugned with- out exposing himself to serious danger. In former times, such men would have been silenced or punished ; now, they are re- spected and valued ; their works are eagerly read, and the circle of their influence is steadily widening. According to the letter of our law-books, these, and similiar publications, which fearless and inquisitive men are pouring into the public ear, are illegal, and Government has the power of prosecuting their authors. The state of opinion, however, is so improved, that such prosecu- tions would be fatal to any Government which instigated them. We have, therefore, every reason to congratulate ourselves on having outlived the reign of open persecution. We may fairly suppose that the cruelties which our forefathers committed in the name of religion, could not now be perpetrated, and that it would be impossible to punish a man merely because he expressed notions which the majority considered to be profane and mis- chievous. Under these circumstances, and seeing that the practice of prosecuting men for uttering their sentiments on religious matters THE REIGN OF OPEN PERSECUTION AT AN END 115 has been for many years discontinued, an attempt to revive that shameful custom would, if it were generally known, be at once scouted. It would be deemed unnatural as well as cruel : out of the ordinary course, and wholly unsuited to the humane and liberal notions of an age which seeks to relax penalties rather than to multiply them. As to the man who might be mad enough to make the attempt, we should look upon him in the light in which we should regard some noxious animal, which being suddenly let loose, went about working harm, and undoing all the good that had been previously done. We should hold him to be a nuisance which it was our duty either to abate, or to warn people of. To us, he would be a sort of public enemy ; a disturber of human happiness ; a creature hostile to the human species. If he possessed authority, we should loathe him the more, as one who, instead of employing for the benefit of his country the power with which his country had entrusted him, used it to gratify his own malignant prejudices, or maybe to humour the spleen of some wretched and intolerant faction with which he was connected. Inasmuch, therefore, as, in the present state of English society, any punishment inflicted for the use of language which did not tend to break the public peace, and which was neither seditious in reference to the State, nor libellous in reference to individuals, would be simply a wanton cruelty, alien to the genius of our time, and capable of producing no effect beyond reviving intole- rance, exasperating the friends of liberty, and bringing the admi- nistration of justice into disrepute, it was with the greatest astonishment that I read in Mr. Mill's work that such a thing had occurred in this country, and at one of our assizes, less than two years ago. Notwithstanding my knowledge of Mr. Mill's accuracy, I thought that in this instance, he must have been mis- taken. I supposed that he had not heard all the circumstances, and that the person punished had been guilty of some other offence. I could not believe that in the year 1857, there was a judge on the English bench who would sentence a poor man of irreproachable character, of industrious habits, and supporting his family by the sweat of his brow, to twenty-one months' im- prisonment, merely because he had uttered and written on a gate a few words respecting Christianity. Even now, when I have carefully investigated the facts to which Mr. Mill only alludes, and have the documents before me, I can hardly bring myself to I 2 Il6 MILL ON LIBERTY realise the events which have actually occurred, and which I will relate, in order that public opinion may take cognisance of a transaction which happened in a remote part of the kingdom, but which the general welfare requires to be bruited abroad so that men may determine whether or not such things shall be allowed. In the summer of 1857, a poor man, named Thomas Pooley, was gaining his livelihood as a common labourer in Liskeard, in Cornwall, where he had been well known for several years, and had always borne a high character for honesty, industry, and sobriety. His habits were so eccentric, that his mind was justly reputed to be disordered ; and an accident which happened to him about two years before this period had evidently inflicted some serious injury, as since then his demeanour had become more strange and excitable. Still, he was not only perfectly harmless, but was a very useful member of society, respected by his neigh- bours, and loved by his family, for whom he toiled with a zeal rare in his class, or indeed in any class. Among other hallucina- tions, he believed that the earth was a living animal, and, in his ordinary employment of well-sinking, he avoided digging too deeply, lest he should penetrate the skin of the earth, and wound some vital part. He also imagined that if he hurt the earth, the tides would cease to flow, and that nothing being really mortal, when- ever a child died it reappeared at the next birth in the same family. Holding all nature to be animated, he moreover fancied that this was in some way connected with the potato-rot, and, in the wild- ness of his vagaries, he did not hesitate to say that if the ashes of burnt Bibles were strewed over the fields, the rot would cease. This was associated, in his mind, with a foolish dislike of the Bible itself, and an hostility against Christianity ; in reference, however, to which he could hurt no one, as not only was he very ignorant, but his neighbours, regarding him as crackbrained, were uninfluenced by him ; though in the other relations of life he was valued and respected by his employers, and indeed by all who were most acquainted with his disposition. This singular man, who was known by the additional pecu- liarity of wearing a long beard, wrote upon a gate a few very silly words expressive of his opinion respecting the potato-rot and the Bible, and also of his hatred of Christianity. For this, as well as for using language equally absurd, but which no one was obliged to listen to, and which certainly could influence no one, a clergy- THE CASE OF THOMAS POOLEY II? man in the neighbourhood lodged an information against him, and caused him to be summoned before a magistrate, who was likewise a clergyman. The magistrate, instead of pitying him or remonstrating with him, committed him for trial and sent him to jail. At the next assizes, he was brought before the judge. He had no counsel to defend him, but the son of the judge acted as counsel to prosecute him. The father and the son performed their parts with zeal, and were perfectly successful. Under their auspices, Pooley was found guilty. He was brought up for judgment. When addressed by the judge, his restless manner, his wild and incoherent speech, his disordered countenance and glaring eye, betokened too surely the disease of his mind. But neither this, nor the fact that he was ignorant, poor, and friendless produced any effect upon that stony-hearted man who now held him in his gripe. He was sentenced to be imprisoned for a year and nine months. The interests of religion were vindicated. Christianity was protected, and her triumph assured, by dragging a poor, harmless, and demented creature from the bosom of his family, throwing him into jail, and leaving his wife and children without provision, either to starve or to beg. Before he had been many days in prison, the insanity which was obvious at the time of his trial ceased to lurk, and broke out into acts of violence. He grew worse ; and within a fortnight after the sentence had been pronounced he went mad, and it was found necessary to remove him from the jail to the County Lunatic Asylum. While he was lying there, his misfortunes attracted the attention of a few high-minded and benevolent men, who exerted themselves to procure his pardon ; so that, if he recovered, he might be restored to his family. This petition was refused. It was necessary to support the judge ; and the petitioners were in- formed that if the miserable lunatic should regain his reason, he would be sent back to prison to undergo the rest of his sentence. This, in all probability, would have caused a relapse ; but little was thought of that ; and it was hoped that, as he was an obscure and humble man, the efforts made on his behalf would soon sub- side. Those, however, who had once interested themselves in such a case, were not likely to slacken their zeal. The cry grew hotter, and preparations were made for bringing the whole question before the country. Then it was that the authorities gave way. Happily for mankind, one vice is often balanced by another, and Il8 MILL ON LIBERTY cruelty is corrected by cowardice. The authors and abettors of this prodigious iniquity trembled at the risk they would run if the public feeling of this great country were roused. The result was that the proceedings of the judge were rescinded, as far as possible, by a pardon being granted to Pooley less than five months after the sentence was pronounced. By this means, general exposure was avoided ; and, perhaps, that handful of noble-minded men who obtained the liberation of Pooley, were right in letting the matter fall into oblivion after they had carried their point. Most of them were engaged in political or other practical affairs, and they were, therefore, obliged to consider expediency as well as justice. But such is not the case with the historian of this sad event. No writer on important subjects has reason to expect that he can work real good, or that his words shall live, if he allows himself to be so trammelled by expediency as to postpone to it considerations of right, of justice, and of truth. A great crime has been committed, and the names of the criminals ought to be known. They should be in every one's mouth. They should be blazoned abroad, in order that the world may see that in a free country such things cannot be done with impunity. To discourage a repetition of the offence the offenders must be punished. And, surely, no punishment can be more severe than to preserve their names. Against them personally, I have nothing to object, for I have no knowledge of them. Individually, I can feel no animosity towards men who have done me no harm, and whom I have never seen. But they have violated principles dearer to me than any personal feeling, and in vindication of which I would set all personal feeling at nought. Fortunate, indeed, it is for humanity, that our minds are constructed after such a fashion as to make it impossible for us, by any effort of abstract reasoning, to consider oppression apart from the oppressor. We may abhor a speculative principle, and yet respect him who advocates it. This distinction between the opinion and the person is, however, confined to the intellectual world, and does not extend to the practical. Such a separation cannot exist in regard to actual deeds of cruelty. In such cases, our passions instruct our under- standing. The same cause which excites our sympathy for the oppressed, stirs up our hatred of the oppressor. This is an in- stinct of our nature, and he who struggles against it does so to his own detriment. It belongs to the higher region of the mind ; it is THE CASE OF THOMAS POOLEY 119 not to be impeached by argument ; it cannot even be touched by it. Therefore it is, that when we hear that a poor, a defenceless, and a half-witted man, who had hurt no one, a kind father, an affectionate husband, whose private character was unblemished, and whose integrity was beyond dispute, is suddenly thrown into prison, his family left to subsist on the precarious charity of strangers, he himself by this cruel treatment deprived of the little reason he possessed, then turned into a madhouse, and finally refused such scanty redress as might have been afforded him, a spirit of vehement indignation is excited, partly, indeed, against a system under which such things can be done ; but still more against those who, in the pride of their power and wicked- ness of their hearts, put laws into execution which had long fallen into disuse, and which they were not bound to enforce, but of which they availed themselves to crush the victim they held in their grasp. The prosecutor who lodged the information against Pooley. and had him brought before the magistrate, was the Rev. Paul Bush. The magistrate who received the information, and com- mitted him for trial, was the Rev. James Glencross. The judge who passed the sentence which destroyed his reason and beggared his family, was Mr. Justice Coleridge. Of the two first, little need be said. It is to be hoped that their names will live, and that they will enjoy that sort of fame which they have amply earned. Perhaps, after all, we should rather blame the state of society which concedes power to such men, than wonder that having the power they should abuse it But with Mr. Justice Coleridge we have a different account to settle, and to him other language must be applied. That our judges should have great authority is unavoidable. To them, a wide and discretionary latitude is necessarily entrusted. Great confidence being reposed in them, they are bound, by every pos- sible principle which can actuate an honest man, to respect that confidence. They are bound to avoid not only injustice, but, so far as they can, the very appearance of injustice. Seeing, as they do, all classes of society, they are well aware that, among the lower ranks, there is a deep, though on the whole a diminishing belief that the poor are ill-treated by the rich, and that even in the courts of law equal measure is not always meted out to both. An opinion of this sort is full of danger, and it is the more I2O MILL ON LIBERTY dangerous because it is not unfounded. The country magistrates are too often unfair in their decisions, and this will always be the case until greater publicity is given to their proceedings. But, from our superior judges we expect another sort of conduct. We expect, and it must honestly be said we usually find, that they shall be above petty prejudices, or at all events, that whatever private opinions they may have, they shall not intrude those opinions into the sanctuary of justice. Above all do we expect, that they shall not ferret out some obsolete law for the purpose of oppressing the poor, when they know right well that the anti-Christian sentiments which that law was intended to punish are quite as common among the upper classes as among the lower, and are participated in by many persons who enjoy the confidence of the country, and to whom the highest offices are entrusted. That this is the case was known in the year 1857 to Mr. Justice Coleridge, just as it was then known, and is now known, to every one who mixes in the world. The charge, therefore, which I bring against this unjust and unrighteous judge is, that he passed a sentence of extreme severity upon a poor and friendless man in a remote part of the kingdom, where he might reasonably expect that his sentence would escape public animadversion ; that he did this by virtue of a law which had fallen into disuse, and was contrary to the spirit of the age ; 1 and that he would not have dared to commit such an act, in the face of a London audience, and in the full light of the London press. Neither would he, nor those who supported him, have treated in such a manner a person belonging to the upper classes. No. They select the most inaccessible county in England, where the press is least active and the people are most illiterate, and there they pounce upon a defenceless man and make him the scapegoat. He is to be the victim whose vicarious sufferings may atone for the offences of more powerful unbelievers. Hardly a year goes by without some writer of influence and ability attacking Christianity, and every such attack is punishable by law. Why did not Mr. Justice Coleridge, and those who think like him, put the law into force 1 Or rather by virtue of the cruel and persecuting maxims of our old Common Law, established at a period when it was a matter of religion to burn heretics and to drown witches. Why did not such a judge live three hundred years ago ? He has fallen upon evil times and has come too late into the world. STRICTURES ON CONDUCT OF JUSTICE COLERIDGE 121 against those writers ? Why do they not do it now ? Why do they not have the learned and the eminent indicted and thrown into prison ? Simply because they dare not I defy them to it. They are afraid of the odium ; they tremble at the hostility they would incur, and at the scorn which would be heaped upon them, both by their contemporaries and by posterity. Happily for mankind, literature is a real power, and tyranny quakes at it. But to me it appears, that men of letters perform the least part of their duty when they defend each other. It is their proper function, and it ought to be their glory, to defend the weak against the strong, and to uphold the poor against the rich. This should be their pride and their honour. I would it were known in every cottage, that the intellectual classes sympathise not with the upper ranks but with the lower. I would that we made the freedom of the people our first consideration. Then, indeed, would literature be the religion of liberty, and we, priests of the altar, ministering her sacred rites, might feel that we act in the purest spirit of our creed when we denounce tyranny in high places, when we chastise the insolence of office, and when we vindicate the cause of Thomas Pooley against Justice Coleridge. For my part, I can honestly say that I have nothing exaggerated, nor set down aught in malice. What the verdict of public opinion may be I cannot tell. I speak merely as a man of letters, and do not pretend to represent any class. I have no interest to advo cate ; I hold no brief; I carry no man's proxy. But unless I altogether mistake the general feeling, it will be considered that a great crime has been committed ; that a knowledge of that crime has been too long hidden in a corner ; and that I have done something towards dragging the criminal from his covert, and letting in on him the full light of day. This gross iniquity is, no doubt, to be immediately ascribed to the cold heart and shallow understanding of the judge by whom it was perpetrated. If, however, public opinion had been suf- ficiently enlightened, those evil qualities would have been re- strained and rendered unable to work the mischief. Therefore it is, that the safest and most permanent remedy would be to diffuse sound notions respecting the liberty of speech and of publication. It should be clearly understood that every man has an absolute and irrefragable right to treat any doctrine as he thinks proper ; either to argue against it, or to ridicule it. If his arguments are 122 MILL ON LIBERTY wrong, he can be refuted ; if his ridicule is foolish, he can be out- ridiculed. To this there can be no exception. It matters not what the tenet may be, nor how dear it is to our feelings. Like all other opinions, it must take its chance ; it must be roughly used ; it must stand every test ; it must be thoroughly discussed and sifted. And we may rest assured that if it really be a great and valuable truth, such opposition will endear it to us the more ; and that we shall cling to it the closer in proportion as it is argued against, aspersed, and attempted to be overthrown. If I were asked for an instance of the extreme latitude to which such licence might be extended, I would take what, in my judg- ment at least, is the most important of all doctrines, the doctrine of a future state. Strictly speaking, there is, in the present early condition of the human mind, no subject on which we can arrive at complete certainty ; but the belief in a future state approaches that certainty nearer than any other belief, and it is one which, if eradicated, would drive most of us to despair. On both these grounds it stands alone. It is fortified by arguments far stronger than can be adduced in support of any other opinion ; and it is a supreme consolation to those who suffer affliction, or smart under a sense of injustice. The attempts made to impugn it have always seemed to me to be very weak, and to leave the real difficulties untouched. They are negative arguments directed against affirma- tive ones. But if, in transcendental inquiries, negative arguments are to satisfy us, how shall we escape from the reasonings of Berkeley respecting the non-existence of the material world ? Those reasonings have never been answered, and our knowledge must be infinitely more advanced than it now is, before they can be answered. They are far stronger than the arguments of the atheists ; and I cannot but wonder that they who reject a future state, should believe in the reality of the material world. Still, those who do reject it, are not only justified in openly deny- ing it, but are bound to do so. Our first and paramount duty is to be true to ourselves ; and no man is true to himself who fears to express his opinion. There is hardly any vice which so debases us in our own esteem, as moral cowardice. There is hardly any virtue which so elevates our character, as moral courage. Therefore it is that the more unpopular a notion, the greater the merit of him who advocates it, provided, of course, he does so in honesty and singleness of heart. On this account, NATURAL TENDENCY OF CREEDS TO DECAY 123 although I regard the expectation of another life as the prop and mainstay of mankind, and although I cannot help thinking that they who reject it have taken an imperfect and uncomprehensive view, and have not covered the whole field of inquiry, I do strenuously maintain, that against it every species of attack is legitimate, and I feel assured that the more it is assailed the more it will flourish, and the more vividly we shall realise its meaning, its depth, and its necessity. That many of the common arguments in favour of this great doctrine are unsound might be easily shown ; but until the entire subject is freely discussed, we shall never know how far they are unsound, and what part of them ought to be retained. If, for instance, we make our belief in it depend upon assertions contained in books regarded as sacred, it will follow that when- ever those books lose their influence the doctrine will be in peril. The basis being impaired, the superstructure will tremble. It may well be, that in the march of ages, every definite and written creed now existing is destined to die out, and to be succeeded by better ones. The world has seen the beginning of them, and we have no surety that it will not see the end of them. Everything which is essential to the human mind must survive all the shocks and vicissitudes of time ; but dogmas, which the mind once did without, cannot be essential to it Perhaps we have no right so to anticipate the judgment of our remotest posterity as to affirm that any opinion is essential to all possible forms of civilization ; but, at all events, we have more reason to believe this of the doctrine of a future state than of any other conceivable idea. Let us then beware of endangering its stability by narrowing its foun- dation. Let us take heed how we rest it on the testimony of inspired writings, when we know that inspiration at one epoch is often different from inspiration at another. If Christianity should ever perish, the age that loses it will have reason to deplore the blindness of those who teach mankind to defend this glorious and consolatory tenet, not by general considerations of the funda- mental properties of our common nature, but by traditions, assertions, and records, which do not bear the stamp of univer- sality, since in one state of society they are held to be true, and in another state of society they are held to be false. Of the same fluctuating and precarious character is the argu- ment drawn from the triumph of injustice in this world, and the 124 MILL ON LIBERTY consequent necessity of such unfairness being remedied in another life. For it admits of historical proof that, as civilization advances, the impunity and rewards of wickedness diminish. In a barbarous state of society virtue is invariably trampled upon, and nothing really succeeds except violence or fraud In that stage of affairs, the worst criminals are the most prosperous men. But, in every succeeding step of the great progress, injustice becomes more hazardous ; force and rapine grow more unsafe ; precautions multiply; the supervision is keener; tyranny and deceit are oftener detected. Being oftener detected, it is less profitable to practise them. In the same proportion, the rewards of integrity increase, and the prospects of virtue brighten. A large part of the power, the honour, and the fame formerly possessed by evil men is transferred to good men. Acts of in- justice which at an earlier period would have escaped attention, or, if known, would have excited no odium, are now chastised, not only by law, but also by public opinion. Indeed, so marked is this tendency, that many persons by a singular confusion of thought, actually persuade themselves that offences are increasing because we hear more of them, and punish them oftener; not seeing that this merely proves that we note them more and hate them more. We redouble our efforts against injustice not on account of the spread of injustice, but on account of our better understanding how to meet it, and being more determined to coerce it. No other age has ever cried out against it so loudly ; and yet, strange to say, this very proof of our superiority to all other ages is cited as evidence of our inferiority. This I shall return to elsewhere ; my present object in mentioning it, is partly to check a prevailing error, but chiefly to indicate its connection with the subject before us. Nothing is more certain than that, as society advances, the weak are better protected against the strong ; the honest against the dishonest ; and the just against the unjust. If, then, we adopt the popular argument in favour of another life, that injustice here must be compensated hereafter, we are driven to the terrible conclusion that the same progress of civilization which, in this world, heightens the penalties in- flicted on injustice, would also lessen the need of future com- pensation, and thereby weaken the ground of our belief. The inference would be untrue, but it follows from the premises. To me it appears not only sad, but extremely pernicious, that on a THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 125 topic of such surpassing interest, the understandings of men should be imposed upon by reasonings which are so shallow, that, if pushed to their legitimate consequence, they would defeat their own aim, because they would force us to assert that the more we improve in our moral conduct towards each other, the less we should care for a future and a better world. I have brought forward these views for the sake of justifying the general proposition maintained in this essay. For, it is evident that if the state of public opinion did not discourage a fearless investigation of these matters, and did not foolishly cast a slur upon those who attack doctrines which are dear to us, the whole subject would be more thoroughly understood, and such weak arguments as are commonly advanced would have been long since exploded. If they who deny the immortality of the soul, could, without the least opprobrium, state in the boldest manner all their objections, the advocates of the doctrine would be obliged to reconsider their own position, and to abandon its un- tenable points. By this means that which I revere, and which an overwhelming majority of us revere, as a glorious truth, would be immensely strengthened. It would be strengthened by being deprived of those sophistical arguments which are commonly urged in its favour, and which give to its enemies an incalculable advantage. It would, moreover, be strengthened by that feeling of security which men have in their own convictions, when they know that everything is said against them which can be said, and that their opponents have a fair and liberal hearing. This begets a magnanimity, and a rational confidence, which cannot otherwise be obtained. But such results can never happen while we are so timid, or so dishonest, as to impute improper motives to those who assail our religious opinions. We may rely upon it that as long as we look upon an atheistical writer as a moral offender, or even as long as we glance at him with suspicion, atheism will remain a standing and a permanent danger, because, skulking in hidden corners, it will use stratagems which their secrecy will pre- vent us from baffling ; it will practise artifices to which the perse- cuted are forced to resort ; it will number its concealed proselytes to an extent of which only they who have studied this painful subject are aware ; and, above all, by enabling them to complain of the treatment to which they are exposed, it will excite the sympathy of many high and generous natures who, in an open 126 MILL ON LIBERTY and manly warfare, might strive against them, but who, by a noble instinct, find themselves incapable of contending with any sect which is oppressed, maligned, or intimidated. Though this essay has been prolonged much beyond my original intention, I am unwilling to conclude it just at this point when I have attacked arguments which support a doctrine that I cherish above all other doctrines. It is, indeed, certain that he who destroys a feeble argument in favour of any truth, renders the greatest service to that truth, by obliging its advocates to pro- duce a stronger one. Still, an idea will prevail among some persons that such service is insidious ; and that to expose the weak side of a cause, is likely to be the work, not of a friend, but of an enemy in disguise. Partly, therefore, to prevent misinter- pretation from those who are always ready to misinterpret, and partly for the satisfaction of more candid readers, I will venture to state what I apprehend to be the safest and most impregnable ground on which the supporters of this great doctrine can take their stand. That ground is the universality of the affections ; the yearning of every mind to care for something out of itself. For, this is the very bond and seal of our common humanity ; it is the golden link which knits together and preserves the human species. It is in the need of loving and of being loved, that the highest instincts of our nature are first revealed. Not only is it found among the good and the virtuous, but experience proves that it is compatible with almost any amount of depravity, and with almost every form of vice. No other principle is so general or so power- ful. It exists in the most barbarous and ferocious states of society, and we know that even sanguinary and revolting crimes are often unable to efface it from the breast of the criminal. It warms the coldest temperament, and softens the hardest heart. However a character may be deteriorated and debased, this single passion is capable of redeeming it from utter defilement, and of rescuing it from the lowest depths. And if, from time to time, we hear of an apparently well-attested case of its entire absence, we are irresistibly impelled to believe that, even in that mind, it lurks unseen ; that it is stunted, not destroyed ; that there is yet some nook or cranny in which it is buried ; that the avenues from without are not quite closed ; and that, in spite of adverse cir- cumstances, the affections are not so dead, but that it would NEED OF CONSOLATION UNDER BEREAVEMENT I2/ be possible to rouse them from their torpor, and kindle them into life. Look now at the way in which this godlike and fundamental principle of our nature acts. As long as we are with those whom we love, and as long as the sense of security is unimpaired, we rejoice, and the remote consequences of our love are usually for- gotten. Its fears and its risks are unheeded. But, when the dark day approaches, and the moment of sorrow is at hand, other and yet essential parts of our affection come into play. And if, per- chance, the struggle has been long and arduous ; if we have been tempted to cling to hope when hope should have been abandoned, so much the more are we at the last changed and humbled. To note the slow but inevitable march of disease, to watch the enemy stealing in at the gate, to see the strength gradually waning, the limbs tottering more and more, the noble faculties dwindling by degrees, the eye paling and losing its lustre, the tongue falter- ing as it vainly tries to utter its words of endearment, the very lips hardly able to smile with their wonted tenderness ; to see this is hard indeed to bear, and many of the strongest natures have sunk under it. But when even this is gone ; when the very signs of life are mute ; when the last faint tie is severed, and there lies before us nought save the shell and husk of what we loved too well, then truly, if we believed the separation were final, how could we stand up and live ? We have staked our all upon a single cast, and lost the stake. There, where we have garnered up our hearts, and where our treasure is, thieves break in and spoil. Methinks, that in that moment of desolation, the best of us would succumb, but for the deep conviction that all is not really over ; that we have as yet only seen a part ; and that something remains behind. Something behind ; something which the eye of reason cannot discern, but on which the eye of affection is fixed. What is that, which, passing over us like a shadow, strains the aching vision as we gaze at it ? Whence comes that sense of mysterious companionship in the midst of solitude ; that ineffable feeling which cheers the afflicted ? Why is it that at these times, our minds are thrown back on themselves, and, being so thrown, have a forecast of another and a higher state ? If this be a delusion, it is one which the affections have themselves created, and we must believe that the purest and noblest elements of our nature conspire to deceive us. So surely as we lose what we love, so surely does 128 MILL ON LIBERTY hope mingle with grief. That if a man stood alone, he would deem himself mortal I can well imagine. Why not ? On account of his loneliness, his moral faculties would be undeveloped, and it is solely from them that he could learn the doctrine of immortality. There is nothing, either in the mechanism of the material universe or in the vast sweep and compass of science, which can teach it. The human intellect, glorious as it is, and in its own field almost omnipotent, knows it not. For, the province and function of the intellect is to take those steps, and to produce those improvements, whether speculative or practical, which accelerate the march of nations, and to which we owe the august and imposing fabric of modern civilization. But this intellectual movement which deter- mines the condition of man, does not apply with the same force to the condition of men. What is most potent in the mass, loses its supremacy in the unit. One law for the separate elements ; another law for the entire compound. The intellectual principle is conspicuous in regard to the race ; the moral principle in regard to the individual. And of all the moral sentiments which adorn and elevate the human character, the instinct of affection is surely the most lovely, the most powerful, and the most general. Unless, therefore, we are prepared to assert that this, the fairest and choicest of our possessions, is of so delusive and fraudulent a character that its dictates are not to be trusted, we can hardly avoid the conclusion that, inasmuch as they are the same in all ages, with all degrees of knowledge, and with all varieties of religion, they bear upon their surface the impress of truth, and are at once the conditions and consequence of our being. It is, then, to that sense of immortality with which the affections inspire us, that I would appeal for the best proof of the reality of a future life. Other proofs perhaps there are, which it may be for other men or for other times to work out But before this can be done, the entire subject will have to be reopened, in order that it may be discussed with boldness and yet with calmness, which however cannot happen as long as a stigma rests on those who attack the belief ; because its assailants, being unfairly treated, will for the most part be either timid or passionate. How mis- chievous as well as how unjust such a stigma is, has, I trust, been made apparent, and to that part of the question I need not revert. One thing only I would repeat, because I honestly believe it to be of the deepest importance. Most earnestly would I again urge PROOFS OF THE REALITY OF A FUTURE LIFE 1 29 upon those who cherish the doctrine of immortality, not to defend it, as they too often do, by arguments which have a basis smaller than the doctrine itself. I long to see this glorious tenet rescued from the jurisdiction of a narrow and sectarian theology, which, foolishly ascribing to a single religion the possession of all truth, proclaims other religions to be false, and debases the most mag- nificent topics by contracting them within the horizon of its own little vision. Every creed which has existed long and played a great part, contains a large amount of truth, or else it would not have retained its hold upon the human mind. To suppose, how- ever, that any one of them contains the whole truth, is to suppose that as soon as that creed was enunciated the limits of inspiration were reached, and the power of inspiration exhausted. For such a supposition we have no warrant. On the contrary, the history of mankind, if compared in long periods, shows a very slow, but still a clearly marked, improvement in the character of successive creeds ; so that if we reason from the analogy of the past, we have a right to hope that the improvement will continue, and that subsequent creeds will surpass ours. Using the word religion in its ordinary sense, we find that the religious opinions of men depend on an immense variety of circumstances which are con- stantly shifting. Hence it is, that whatever rests merely upon these opinions has in it something transient and mutable. Well, therefore, may they who take a distant and comprehensive view, be filled with dismay when they see a doctrine like the immortality of the soul defended in this manner. Such advocates incur a heavy responsibility. They imperil their own cause ; they make the fundamental depend upon the casual ; they support what is per- manent by what is ephemeral ; and with their books, their dogmas, their traditions, their rituals, their records, and their other perish- able contrivances, they seek to prove what was known to the world before these existed, and what, if these were to die away, would still be known, and would remain the common heritage of the human species, and the consolation of myriads yet unborn. NOTE TO P. 96. "Ori 8e K T>V irpArtpov tlpi}p.tv iriffTis T) 5ia TTJS firaywyfis. El yap rts tTrtffKoiroli] fKatrrriv TUIV irpordfftwv Kal TUV irpoflA.TjjuaTcoj/ (palvoir' bv % oirb rov opov, t) airb rov iSiov, ff fori rov VOL. I. K 130 MILL ON LIBERTY ffv/j.&f&7]i(6ros yfyfrnfjieirn. Arisiotelis Topicoruw, lib. i. cap. vi., Lipsire, 1832, p. 104. &uapiffn.fi'v Se rovrtav, xpb Sie\eo~dai, ir6ffa rcav \oyiav e5f8rj riav Sia\fKriKtLv. "'Effn Se rb nev ^iraytay^j, rb Se ffv\\oyitr/j.6s. Kal ffv\\oyur/j.bs /J.et> T'I eanv, tipi\rai irp6rfpov. 'Evaywyii Se i) airb rSiv KaBfKao'ra eVl ra Kado\ov eyr)s \i\irTtov, irporeivovra irl ruv Kara /JLfpos fvavricav. *H yap 8ia ffv\\oyi fifV rovruv X^P' V - fKacrrri If uSe xpj]ffTfOV "Eirdyovra fi.fv airb TWV KaQfKaffra tirl ra Ka66\ov, Kal -riiv yvwpi/j. oi>K evavr'iws, a\\' ex*"' M^ T ^J' / icad6\ov, airaraffOai Se TTJ Kara fjiepos. Aristotelis Analytica Priora, lib. ii. cap. xxiii., Lipsias, 1832, p. 134. "Airarra yap irnrr(vo/j.ev % Sia >ai, fyi> aovvarov \afte7v ' etirep fj.av6dvoii.fv ^ firuyuyfi, ^ a7roSi|et. "Ecrri 8" i] fifv airoSei^is fK ruv Kad6\ov ' rj S' ftrayuyri eK rSiv Kara /aepos ' dSv- varov Se ret Ka06\ov 6ewpi)een the tropics and the poles depends on latitude ; but that in the tropics this rule does not apply. For this, reasons are given, and ' this rea- soning is not contradicted by experience. The countries in which the greatest degree of heat is experienced lie near the Tropic of Cancer. They are the countries on the banks of the Senegal, the Tehema of Arabia, and Mekran in Beloochistan.' Feuchters- leben 6 says, 'There are numerous examples of the reciprocal action of the respiratory and physical functions. The courageous and cheerful disposition of the inhabitants of mountains, in com- parison with that of the inhabitants of lowlands, and especially of those who breathe the close air of towns, is well known.' Broussais 7 says that, having practised and made autopsies in the north, as well as in the south, he has found that the more men 1 History of the Church, vol. iii. p. 333. * History of American Revolution, vol. ii. pp. 55-59. 3 Wright, Biog. Brit. Lit., i. 342. 4 Russie, iv. 317, 318. 5 Vol. vii. p. 260. 6 Medical Psychology, p. 178. 7 Examen des Doctrines mcdicales, vol. ii. p. 311. 2l6 FRAGMENTS live indoors the more numerous are the aberrations of nutrition, as great tumours and other organic alterations. But by living out of doors, and inhaling and excreting in open air, the body be- comes condensed and less liable to those ' monstrueuses deforma- tions ' and ' aussi les cadavres sont ils en general sees et maigres dans les pays chauds.' Mrs. Somerville l says, ' The average age of a nation, or the mean duration of life, has a considerable influence on the character of a people. The average age of the population of England and Wales is twenty-six years seven months. By the census the average age of the population of the United States of North America is twenty-two years two months. In England there are 1365 persons in every 10,000 who have attained fifty years of age, and consequently of experience : while in the United States only 830 have arrived at that age : hence in the United States the moral predominance of the young and pas- sionate is greatest.' 2 The thunder, the hurricane, and whirlwind, the imposing majesty of nature, forests, mountains, and deserts. There is an interesting note on the Law of Hurricanes in Somerville's Physical Geography, vol. ii. p. 52. Mrs. Somerville 3 says, 'Whirlwinds in tropical countries occur in all kinds of weather, by night as well as by day, and come without the smallest notice.' At vol. ii. p. 31, she says, ' Professor Dove has shown from a comparison of observations that northern and central Asia have what may be termed a true continental climate, both in summer and in winter, that is to say, a hot summer and a cold winter ; that Europe has a true insular or sea climate in both seasons, the summers being cool and the winters mild.' Connect this with the immense size of Asia, Africa, and America ; hence men become irregular, fitful, and capricious as everyone may understand by noticing the impetus of habit and beauty of undeviating method. Get Johnston's Physical Atlas, highly praised by Mrs. Somerville. Wilkinson observes that in hot countries vegetables are more wholesome than meat; but he evidently knows not why. In hot climates perhaps women are precocious; but at all events experience is wanting in very young wives. In hot climates clothes, &c., are less costly. 4 End the laws of climate and precede the laws of 1 Physical Geography, vol. ii. p. 401. 2 See my America. 3 Physical Geography, vol. ii. p. 55. 4 Guizot, Civilisation en Europe, p. 97. CRIME 217 religion by saying that in Europe accumulation of wealth was, until the intellect came into play, much slower than in Asia ; but this fully compensated by the fact that in Europe climate makes men more hardy, more methodical, and more intellectual. Diodorus Siculus, 1 describing a volcanic irruption, says, 'The violent irruption of the fiery matter is so wonderful, that it seems to be the immediate effect of some Divine power.' Hot climate shortens life, and thus raising interest, will, if other things are equal, lower wages. The very vague and contradictory opinions respecting the influence of climate, which have been put forward by different writers, from Hippocrates to our own time, are collected in two elaborate Dissertations by Sir W. Ainslie. 2 Elliotson 3 says, 'The .average life of all ranks in the peninsula in India falls one-eighth below what it is in Europe, and the sixtieth year is seldom attained there.' On the fear caused by thunder, see Erman's Travels in Siberia, vol. i. p. 101. CRIME. MR. FLETCHER, in his valuable Essays in vols. x. xi. xii. of The Statistical Society's Journal, has proved that in England there is a correspondence between the increase of education and dimi- nution of crime. But this, I believe, is because with us edu- cation is not compulsory. In France, 4 Sweden, and Prussia it as compulsory, and therefore produces no good, for force cannot check a disease by attacking its symptoms. Even if it were to be shown that education and diminished crime did go together, it would be doubtful which is the cause : but we know from Guerry that in France the reverse is the case. The real thing is the increased comfort of men, and then their increased independence and foresight. It is not that crime is more common now than formerly, but that it is more commonly punished. Formerly the people sympathised with the offender ; now they sympathise with the law, because it is more merciful. Besides this, we have a better police. Education is evidence of comfortable circum- stances ; but what is the use of simulating the symptom, as the French and Prussians do ? We might as well think that we could 1 Book xi. chap. 27, by Booth, vol. i. p. 430. * Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. ii. pp. 13-42 ; vol. iii. pp. 55-93. 3 Human Physiology, p. 1038. 4 Error. {Ed.] 2l8 FRAGMENTS give a corpse the ruddy glow of health by painting its face. Who ever heard of a merchant or a banker picking a pocket or stealing a fowl? but no one will say that all merchants are moral men. They have no temptation. Crimes apparently increasing are in reality diminishing. For, in the first place, we only register a few crimes, and those not the most important. 2nd. The real measure of crime in a moral point of view is temptation, and temptation is now greater than it ever was. The most active cause of crime is drunkenness, and this is caused partly by misery, partly by ignorance, which makes men think it a remedy, and partly by a want of intellectual occupation. Crime may be con- sidered socially or morally. In the last case, it has not increased so fast as temptation. In the former case, society is certainly safer now than it ever was, as any man must know who has read light literature, &c. Game-laws, which have made poachers in order to amuse gentlemen. On crimes indirectly caused by poaching, see Journal of Statistical Society, vol. x. p. 58. In vol. xii. pp. 231- 236, Mr. Fletcher sums up the results of his elaborate Essays on Moral Statistics. For a remarkable instance of a regular ratio between crime and education see Quetelet, Sur 1'Homme, vol. ii. p. 180. For tables of crime in France and Belgium see Quetelet, Sur 1'Homme, vol. ii. pp. 167, 169, 174, 214, 298, 313. In the same country the difference in crime will depend on the changes of society, the price of food, &c, In different countries we must make allowance for the different state of the police, the difference in manners, morals, and knowledge ; and, above all, the fact that some countries punish as crimes those acts which other countries allow to pass with impunity. On the influence age exercises over crime see Quetelet, tome i. p. 20 ; tome ii. pp. 227-234, 238, 239, 242. Journal of Statistical Society, ix. pp. 224-226; xiv. p. 356 ; ii. pp. 329- 33- On the influence of seasons over crime, see Qudtelet, Sur 1'Homme, tome ii. pp. 211, 212, 244. The chaplain of a great prison in Connecticut told Mr. Abdy 4 that the generality of convicts were in point of intellect below mediocrity.' 1 Laing 2 well says that no men are so moral as the 1 Abdy's United States, Lend. 1835, vol. i. p. 94. 3 Laing's Notes of a Traveller, ist series, pp. 281, 282. CRIME 219 Londoners, for they have to struggle more with temptation ; and what is virtue but temptation conquered? Should we praise a savage for not committing burglary where there are no houses for not being a pickpocket where men wear no clothes ? The diminution of crime is solely due to the people, and depends on them far more than on government Thus in America, the police is wretched, but such is the sympathy of the people with the government that in no country^ says Tocqueville, does crime so rarely escape. 1 In England, in 1838, we hear, 2 'It will probably excite some astonishment that one child of eight years old, two of nine, and eight of ten, should be imprisoned, even under commuted sen- tences, for three years.' Crime committed for the sake of finding a home in prison see Statistical Society, vol. ii. p. 103. Very few young criminals have both parents alive. 3 Drunkenness caused by an ignorant belief that without spirits and beer, strength to work cannot be kept up. 4 And yet most crime is caused by drunkenness. 5 In an able and interesting paper on Norfolk Island, it is said that the convicts there have no fear of death, never having an idea that they have committed any moral offence ; 6 and ' not to have committed some great offence is often considered to indicate a want of spirit.' 7 In England and Wales, from 1805 to 1842, crime continued constantly to increase; but in 1843, 1844, and 1845, steadily decreased. 8 This was the result of prosperity. Even in 1846, it is admitted that the lower orders were goaded into crime because in London they had no civil rights, the practi- cal operation of the law leaving them ' wholly remediless.' 9 Tables of crime afford no evidence of its increase, but only of its de- tection. 10 More females are acquitted than males. 11 The greater the amount of misery and depression, the greater the amount of drunkenness. 12 'The tendency to crime in the male sex five times greater than in the female sex.' 13 Crime 1 Tocqueville, Democratic en Am^rique, tome i. pp. 170, 307. 2 Journal of Statistical Society, vol. i. p. 242. See also note at vol. ii. p. 89. 5 Ib. vol. vi. pp. 153-254. 4 Ib. vol. vii. p. 241. 5 Ib. vol. i. p. 124 ; vol. iii. p. 335. 6 Ib. vol. viii. p. 29. I Ib. vol. viii. p. 48. 8 Ib. vol. ix. pp. 177, 179, 180. 9 Ib. vol. ix. p. 298 ; vol. x. p. 47. 10 Ib. vol. x. p. 39. II Ib. vol. x. p. 43. u Ib. vol. xi. pp. 133, 134. 13 Ib. vol. xi. p. 153. 220 FRAGMENTS diminishes as education increases. 1 Crime caused by want of employment, 2 and by poverty; 3 and it is greater where there are large farms and the lower classes have no land. 4 Mr. Fletcher in summing up the result of his elaborate Essays on Crime and Education in England says, 'A great excess of crime is observed to follow every considerable access to the price of food.' 5 I can scarcely entertain the doctrine enunciated by Socrates, and defended by Plato, that 'no one is voluntarily wicked.' 6 MIDDLE STATE OF EUROPEAN HISTORY BEFORE THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. THE first great improvement was the Crusades, which, by making Europe one, accustomed the chroniclers to take a large view of affairs. Then came the Scholastic Philosophy, which made Europe logical. The rise of poetry drew off the imaginative men from history, and thus there became less fiction and more dryness, i.e. chronicles. Observe on this that all history is at first poetry, i.e. ballads. Then came the rise of towns and civic corporations in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, which first made histo- rians aware of the importance of men. Then, in the fifteenth century, we have in Commines the first historian who cast a pene- trating eye on human affairs ; the first who separated them from the speculations of the cloister. Carlyle 7 says, ' The Troubadour period in general literature, to which the Swabtan era in German answers ' ; and 8 he says, ' The era of the Troubadours, who in Ger- many are the Minnesingers, gave place in that country, as in all others, to a period which we might name the didactic ; for litera- ture now ceased to be a festal melody, and addressing itself rather to the intellect than to the heart, became, as it were, a school 1 Journal of Statistical Society, vol. ii. p. 98 ; vol. iii. p. 332 ; vol. ix. pp. 233, 2 34i 2 35> 236 ; vol. x. pp. 197, 316, 327 ; vol. xi. pp. 141, 143, 146, 155 ; vol. xii. pp. 152, 154, 202, 219, 229, 230. * Ib. vol. v. p. 266. 3 Ib. vol. iii. pp. 289, 290 ; vol. xiii. pp. 64, 70 ; vol. xiv. p. 233. * Ib. vol. xiii. pp. 64, 68. 5 Ib. vol. xii. p. 233. 6 Ritter's Hist, of Ancient Philosophy, vol. ii. pp. 139, 195 ; voL iv. p. 589. 7 Miscellanies, 3rd edit. Lond. 1847. Vol. ii. p. 274. Ibid. p. 282. 221 lesson.' This then was the epoch of the understanding, when men became logical and practical ; and, as Carlyle says, 1 ' Fable indeed, may be regarded as the earliest and simplest product of didactic poetry, the first attempt of instruction clothing itself in fancy. . . . But the fourteenth century was the age of fable in a still wider sense ; it was the age when whatever poetry there remained took the shape of apologue and moral fiction. Hence/ says Carlyle, 2 ' the tales of Boccaccio, the fables of Boner, and the narrations of Hugo.' Schlegel 3 says that early in the sixteenth century it became usual to turn ' the subjects of the old chivalric romances into epic poems ; ' but ' in Spain things took a different turn, and poetry became daily more and more historical in its theme.' This we find in Ercilla and in Camoens. This, I sus- pect, arose from the fact that in Spain poets and historians were military men and nobles. Poets were also actors. There was no division of labour, and history remained in a chronicle state. Commines was to Froissart what Macchiavelli was to the Italian chroniclers, and what Thucydides was to Herodotus, i.e. the psy- chological began to triumph over the descriptive. This was the consequence of the division of labour, a step which it was neces- sary to take in history, but which has been carried too far. Another corruption of history is the development of invention, for savages rarely have imagination. The study of classical literature injured superstition by showing the superiority of the Pagan writers to the Christian writers, and this first told in Italy, where the associations were more fresh, and where scepticism therefore arose. Whewell observes that architecture made men clear, and I may add that it like poetry and painting drew off from history imaginative men. But in Spain this drawing off never took place. Why not ? The crusades increased the stock of fables, and all the fictions of the East were suddenly let loose upon Europe. Mr. Laing 4 has noticed the greater spirit of adventure introduced into literature since the first crusades. The crusades stimulated the European imagination, the last faculty developed among civilized people, and thus prepared the way for the rise of an independent imaginative class, as architects, painters, &c. This was the greatest service done by the crusades ; for generally the imagination is a late form 1 Miscellanies, 3rd edit. Lond. 1847. Vol. ii. p. 300. l Ibid. p. 301. 5 Lectures on the History of Literature, vol. ii. p. 100. 4 Sweden, p. 52. 222 FRAGMENTS of intellectual development, but the crusades, by accelerating it, quickened the progress of Europe. Blanco White, who was learned in such matters, says that in the different legends the same miracles are ascribed to different saints. 1 In Kemble's Saxons in England, 2 there are some instances of the same story being related on different occasions in different countries, and among others the tale of Dido and Byrsa is related of Ragnor Lodbrog, and the Hindoos declare that we obtained possession of Calcutta by similar means. Kemble says, 3 'had Ivanhoe not appeared, we should not have had the many errors which disfigure Thierry's Conquete de 1'Angleterre par les Normands.' 4 The formation of towns encouraged, as I shall presently state, the progress of scep- ticism, and besides this, gave scope to architects, which drew off the fancy, and, as Whewell shows, first made men's ideas steady. Raymond Lully, in the thirteenth century, is one of the very first who attacked the Aristotelian and scholastic philosophy. 6 But Roger Bacon, born in 1214, was still more remarkable. 6 Roger Bacon himself says that it was in A.D. 1230 that the Aristotelian philosophy first became generally known and, as it were, fashion- able. 7 But Whewell strangely says, 8 that the adoption of this philosophy by the Dominican and Franciscan orders ' in the form in which the angelical doctor had systematised it, was one of the events which most tended to defer for three centuries the reform which Roger Bacon urged as a matter of crying necessity in his own time.' Another circumstance which aided the increasing precision of men's minds was the study of law. Whewell says, 9 ' Gratian pub- lished the Decretals in the twelfth century, and the Canon and Civil Law became a regular study in the Universities soon after- wards.' He says, 10 ' The indistinctness of ideas was first remedied among architects and engineers ; ' for if their mechanical ideas had not been correct their works would have failed. Leonardo da Vinci, who died in 1520, aged 78, is the first instance of this. Flassan } * observes that the crusades increased geographical and statistical knowledge. Flassan says, 12 that Louis XL first intro- 1 White's Evidence against Catholicism, p. 191. - Vol. i. pp. 16, 17. 3 Saxons in England, vol. i. p. 373. 4 For William Tell, see Kemble's Saxons, vol. i. p. 422. 5 See Whewell, Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, vol. ii. p. 157. 6 Ibid. p. 160. 7 Ibid. pp. 164. 165. 8 Ibid. p. 173. 9 Ibid. p. 175. 10 Ibid. pp. 205, 206. Histoire de la Diplomatic fra^aise, vol. i. p. 99. n Ibid. p. 247. MIDDLE STATE OF EUROPEAN HISTORY 223 duced the custom of having permanent ministers at foreign courts ' Avant lui les ministres n'avaient que des missions temporaires et determinees.' See some very striking remarks in Vico. 1 Vico says that barbarians always aggrandise and extend particular ideas, and thus while the poets make their gods and heroes bigger than other men (and I may add make the patriarchs long lived), so in the middle ages the features of Jesus Christ and the Virgin are of a colossal grandeur. In such times, says Vico, 2 men do not reflect, and therefore they cannot invent ; and even so great a man as Dante represented in the Divina Commedia real persons. And says Vico, 3 ' Jamais les Grecs et les Latins ne prirent un personnage imaginaire pour sujet principal d'une tragedie.' And 4> ' Chez les Latins mcmoire est synonyme ^imagination (memorable imagi- nable dans Terence) ; ils disent comminisci pour feindre, imaginer : commentum pour une fiction, et en italien fantasia se prend de meme pour ingegno? The inaccuracy of men was shown by their ignorance of the measurement of time, of space, of weight, and of number. They had no clocks : and in France, in the fourteenth century, when the sun did not appear, it was necessary to send into the town a messenger to know the time. 5 They had no good balances ; they were ignorant of distances ; they had no hereditary names. In the fourteenth century parents often did not know the age of their own children. 6 The want of a division of labour is a proof of this indistinctness. 7 Mention of epitomes, compendiums, &c., which appeared in the fourteenth century. In the fourteenth and even in the fifteenth century, it was generally believed, and was laid down in the maps, that Jerusalem was exactly in the middle of the world. 8 The spread of the art of writing among laymen began to deprive history of the exclusively theological character which it had hitherto possessed. Even in the fifteenth century, in France, paper, though used in family archives, was little employed in books. 9 The absurd forgeries of Isidore were believed ; and so 1 Philosophic de 1'Histoire, pp. 269-272. * Ibid. p. 270. 5 Ibid. p. 271. 4 Ibid. p. 272. 5 Monteil, Histoire des Francais des divers fitats, tome i. pp. 97, 98. 6 The natives of Bengal never know their age ; but until the age of ten their mothers know it. See the Journal of the Statistical Society, vol. xv. p. 131. See Monteil, Histoire des Fran9ais, tome ii. pp. 7, 17, and tome iv. pp. 30, 31. 7 Monteil, Histoire des Francais, tome i. p. 164, note. 8 Ibid, tome ii. p. 76. 9 Ibid, tome iii. p. 239. 224 FRAGMENTS were the wildest miracles. The invention of gunpowder equalised all men on the field of battle. M. de Tocqueville says l that the mania for centralisation in France began in the reign of Philip the Fair, ' 1'epoque ou les legistes sont entres dans le gouvernement' (Connect this with the rise of the lawyers.) In the first chapter of the third volume Tocqueville has some very interesting remarks on the spirit of the ' Idgistes.' He says, 2 that for 500 years ' les legistes ' have been mixed up with political movements, and that while in the middle ages they always aided the royal power, they have since then attacked it. In England they are the friends of the aristocracy ; in France its enemies. They are naturally lovers of form and order, and they prefer equality to liberty ; 3 and ' Le legiste appartient au peuple par son interet et par sa naissance et a 1'aristocratie par ses habitudes et par ses gouts. II est comme la liaison naturelle entre ces deux choses, comme 1'anneau qui les unit.' 4 From this it would seem that the rise of law did good, first by making men precise and orderly ; and then by raising up a class which linked the aristocracy with the people, and thus increased sympathy and contact. The increasing knowledge of law increased the wants of men, and thus compelled their contact, while the improvements in travelling facilitated it ; and we find in the progress of society that the contact increases. Thus feudality was a great step, be- cause it knit men together in clans. Then came the despotism of kings, and pressed men into one country. Indeed, Tocqueville 5 makes the interesting remark, that so broken up was France by feudality, that ' le mot patrie lui-meme ne se rencontre dans les auteurs frangais qu'a partir du seizieme siecle.' The next step is, I think, to diminish patriotism in favour of general benevolence just as patriotism has diminished personal fidelity. Tocqueville 6 observes, that when the chroniclers of the middle ages relate the death of a noble, their words are full of grief ; but they relate with indifference the sufferings of the lower orders. This, I think, was caused by want of contact and sympathy. Tocqueville says, 7 that as society becomes democratic, the relation between father and son becomes more friendly and less austere. The same increased i Democratic en Ame'rique, tome i. p. 307. 2 Ibid, tome iii. pp. 4, 5. 3 Ibid. pp. 6, 8, 9. 4 ibid. p. 10. 5 Democratic en Ame'rique, tome v. p. 113. 6 Ibid. p. 4. * Ibid. p. 52. MIDDLE STATE OF EUROPEAN HISTORY 22 5 contact is, I think, shown in the relation between master and servant ; at all events, it is between the upper and lower orders. The settlements made by the Normans in the tenth century in France, and in the eleventh century in England, formed the last great external change, and society began to settle. Scarcely had this been effected when the increased contact of men gave rise to the crusades, which made Europe one. After the breaking up of the Roman Empire, each state, and almost each village, had their separate theological caprices their separate saints, superstitions, &c. ; and this gave rise, says Tocqueville, 1 to that spirit of idolatry which even Christianity assumed directly after the breaking-up of the Roman Empire. I think I may say that we were then in danger of relapsing into an idolatry worse than that of the ancients. The destruction of feudality by Philip the Fair gave the crown great power, and forced France into fusion and contact. Ranke 2 observes the eminently ' modern ' and secular character of Philip the Fair. The abolition of slavery was an evidence of the increased sense of the dignity of man. Ranke 3 says that under Louis XII. and Francis I. Italian civilization had a great influence in France. In the fifteenth cen- tury there were sixteen universities in France, half of which (i.e. eight) were founded in the fifteenth century. 4 In the sixteenth century it is said 5 that there were ancient parish books, which, how ever, mentioned neither births nor deaths. The art of printing, by making books cheap, increased the number of readers, and thus gave History a more social and sympathetic air. Men gradually became more exact. See the history of Mathematics. In 1556, Forcadel's book on Arithmetic reduced to four rules the old two hundred and forty rules of arithmetic. 6 Commerce first made nations sympathise with each other ; and then came consuls before ambassadors. Until the twelfth or thirteenth century there was no means of any kind of sending letters, &c., from one part of France to another. 7 From the middle of the fifteenth century to 1521, more than three thousand works were published upon the theology 1 Democratic en Ame'rique, tome iv. pp. 39, 40. * Civil Wars of France, Lond. 1852, vol. i. p. 57. 3 Ibid. pp. 116, 155. 4 See Monteil, Histoire des divers fitats, tome iv. p. 145. 5 Ibid, tome v. p. 108. 6 Ibid, tome vi. p. 104. 7 Ibid, tome vii. p. 254. VOL. I. Q 226 FRAGMENTS and philosophy of antiquity. l Capefigue 2 says that most of the municipal charters are placed under the ' protection d'un saint patronage.' Capefigue 3 says that in the fourteenth century there arose the lawyers, a middle class between the nobles and the people. Capefigue 4 says that in the feudal times each province formed a separate polity with different laws, each divided into great fiefs ; but that when the religious wars broke out at the Reformation, ' les antiques rivalries des barons se transformaient en haine du preche ou de la messe.' 5 Capefigue 6 says that the spirit of feu- dality ' s'etait teint avec les prouesses des paladins du treizieme siecle.' Ibn Batuta was one of the most celebrated travellers of the fourteenth century. Read his travels and those of Mandeville for the opinions of educated men. Read the account of Ireland and Wales by Giraldus Cambrensis, which, as Cooley says, 7 was extremely popular and greedily received at Oxford. In the old maps, mentioned in British topography, Scotland is represented as an island. 8 An extraordinary map is preserved at Turin, and is mentioned by Cooley. 9 It is, indeed, extraordinary that men in such a state should ever have become accurate. But without pre- tending to write a history of the middle-age civilization, I will now trace some of the causes. The monks were almost the only histo- rians of the middle ages. Some doubts having been expressed respecting the legal majority of the French kings, there was issued in 1383 a constitution of Charles V. fixing it at the age of fourteen, and assigning as precedents the cases of Joash, of Josiah, of David, of Solomon, and of Hezekiah. In Smedley's Reformed Religion in France, pp. 380, 381, there is an account of a mythological morality performed at Paris in 1572, which is not worth quoting, but which I may refer to. The canonical laws, first drawn up about 1107 by Gratian, a monk of Bologna, consist of canons of the councils, writings of the fathers, constitutions of the popes, and some of the imperial laws. 10 Lerminier 11 says the ' etablissemens ' of St. Louis, ' sont, apres les assises de Jerusalem, fruit des Croisades, importa- tion de la loi chretienne en Asie, le premier monument de la 1 See Capefigue, Histoire de la ReTorme, tome i. p. 31. 3 Ibid. pp. 249, 250. 5 Ibid, tome ii. p. 23. 4 Ibid, tome iv. pp. 31, 32. 5 See also tome v. p. 78. 6 Ibid, tome iv. p. 120. 7 History of Maritime Discovery, vol. i. p. 228. 8 Cooley, vol. i. p. 230. 9 Ibid. p. 232. 10 Lerminier, Philosophic du Droit, tome i. pp. 259, 260. 11 Ibid. p. 267. MIDDLE STATE OF EUROPEAN HISTORY 22/ legislation francaise ; car Charlemagne et ses capitulaires appar- tiennent autant a 1'Allemagne qu'k la France.' The first great intellectual and democratic movement was shown by the use of the modern languages. Formerly intellect was wasted on theo- logical and military matters. The first step was to divert, it to secular subjects, and this was done in the eleventh century by the rise of schools and of educated laymen, and in the thirteenth cen- tury by gunpowder, which gave rise to a separate military class. In the middle of the reign of Elizabeth, according to one account, the population of England was estimated at nine hundred thou- sand ; according to other accounts the number of men capable of bearing arms was nearly twelve hundred thousand, which of course would give a population of from four and a half to five millions. In and after the fourth century men became ignorant because they were exclusively theological. 1 Early in the ninth century schools first arose. About the seventh century the barbarians entered Christianity, and though they added to it fresh superstitions, they began to temper it with their secular and independent spirit. Pilgrimages and missionaries began the contact and fusion ; then came the crusades, when for the first time we see the secular ele- ment of conquest. Another proof of this spirit of contact and condensation is to be found in the great collections, &c., which Whewell, who calls it the commentatorial spirit, wrongly supposes to be a retrogression. The papal power aided the process of con- densation, contact, and unity. This began with Hildebrand immedi- ately before the crusades, or perhaps by Leo IX. in A.D. io49. 2 The power of the bishops was succeeded by the power of the popes, just as alodial proprietors were succeeded by the great feudal landlords. Scarcely was Christianity established when monasticism sprang up. The revival of classical literature taught men for the first time that there was something more beautiful than legends. This gave rise to a sense of beauty, which is never found among nations altogether barbarous ; and to this we owe the rise of the fine arts which chastised credulity, and drew off imaginative men from history. In the eleventh century the French clergy began to oppose the church. 3 Neander 4 says that the re- vived study of the ancient Latin authors in the ninth, and particu- 1 See Neander's History of the Church, vol. iv. p. 41, 128. 2 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 47. 3 Ibid. p. 348. * Ibid. p. 362. Q2 228 FRAGMENTS larly in the eleventh century, ' injured the church and encouraged heresy.' In the sixth century the Greek schools were shut, and men became theological. Arnold of Brescia and Abelard aided the great movement, and style became better, for clear thinkers always have a clear style. In the middle of the twelfth century arose the canon law. * Abelard attacked the stories of ' miraculous cures.' 2 There were, indeed, the schools of Charlemagne and of Ireland ; but until the Pilgrimages and the Crusades Europe never pulled together. In vain did the church by monastic and mendicant orders try to invigorate her dying frame. The hostility between Reason and Faith only became more marked. In the thirteenth century the mendicant monks alone were considered religious men ; their mode of life being called religio? The antagonism increased, and the church became more and more superstitious. Then transubstantiation was fixed in A.D. 1215 ; 4 and hence the superstitious festival of Corpus Christi, ordered in 1264, and again in A.D. 131 1. 8 In the thirteenth century the clergy first openly and peremptorily withdrew the cup from the laity, and this was the work of the mendicant monks, all of whom, except Albert, declared that the clergy alone should take the wine. 6 In 1215 auricular confession was first made imperative. 7 Nean- der 8 mentions ' the worldly culture which began to flourish from the time of the twelfth century, and particularly the speculative bent which set itself in hostility against the faith.' According to the old notions universal ideas were considered as real, but late in the eleventh century Roscelin founded Nominalism ; and ' he maintained that all knowledge must proceed from experience, indi- viduals only had real existence ; all general conceptions were without objective significance ; ' 9 and even Anselm, the great opponent of Roscelin, 10 did nevertheless feel ' constrained to ac- count to himself by a rational knowledge for that which in itself was to him the most certain of all things.' n Abelard held 'that faith proceeds first from inquiry.' 12 Abelard first attacked the old story about Dionysius. 13 In the middle of the twelfth century I Neander, History of the Church, vol. vii. p. 282. 2 Ibid. p. 355. 3 Ibid. p. 394. 4 Ibid. p. 466. 5 Ibid. pp. 473, 474. 6 Ibid. pp. 476, 477, 479. 7 Ibid. p. 491. 8 Ibid. p. 450. 9 Ibid. voL viii. p. 3. 10 Ibid. p. 10. II Ibid. p. 19. 1Z Ibid. p. 35. 13 Ibid. p. 40. On Abelard's heretical and imaginative tendencies, see Ibid. pp. 5. Si- MIDDLE STATE OF EUROPEAN HISTORY 229 Peter Lombard's Book of Sentences shows the commentatorial spirit ; l and fifty years later Peter Cantor drew up his ' Summa.' 2 As to Aquinas's love for novelty, see Neander, voL viii. p. 86. In the thirteenth century the Arabian school began to exercise great influence. 3 The theological tendency of Roger Bacon's works is considered by Neander ; 4 their scientific tendency by Whewell. Bacon was in the thirteenth century. He opposed tradition and advocated inquiry. 5 In the thirteenth century it was forbidden to write theological books in French. 6 ' In the twelfth century traces of the influence of the Aristotelian dialectic may already be dis- cerned ; though at first only single logical writings of that great philosopher could have been known.' 7 At p. 242, Neander gives a curious instance of the way in which Thomas Aquinas was influenced by Aristotle. The disputes of nominalism and realism rescued many subjects from theology, and brought them under the jurisdiction of metaphysics. In the eleventh century that accu- mulation of absurdities called the Fathers came to a close, Ber- nard being generally considered the last. A very learned writer 8 strangely speaks of the ' antecedent improbability of the Crusades. ' But they were the natural result partly of the theological spirit, partly of the increased contact of nations. Sir W. Hamilton 9 says that in the middle ages, and even by the scholastic philosophers, philosophy was always made subordinate to theology. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries law, medicine, and philosophy were studied by immense numbers at the universities. See an interest- ing Essay on the History of Universities in Sir W. Hamilton's Discussions on Philosophy, p. 403. Where [shall we find finer intellects than Erigena, Lanfranc, and Abelard ? men far greater than any modern metaphysician since Descartes certainly far superior to Locke, and to the whole Scotch school from Hutcheson to Hamilton. The finest minds were occupied with theology, ontology, law ; in France, feudal law ; in England, the law of real property. The genuineness of William Tell was first attacked in 1 760. 10 The invention of the compass and of posts fused Europe 1 Neander, History of the Church, vol. viii. p. 77. * Ibid. p. 84. 5 Ibid. p. 127. * Ibid. pp. 97, 100, 112, 114. 5 Ibid. p. 98. 6 Ibid. p. 132. "> ibid. p. 88. 8 Grote, History of Greece, vol. i. p. 572. 9 Discussions in Philosophy, p. 197. 10 Koch, Tableau des Revolutions, tome i. p. 255. 230 FRAGMENTS and enlarged the views of historians. In the middle of the fifteenth century there rose the idea of balance of power ; l and just after this we find, I think, the first ambassadors. The first school of medicine was founded at the end of the eleventh century. 2 ABSURDITIES IN EARLY HISTORY TO BE CONSIDERED ISOLATED. GEOFFREY DE VINSAUF has written a chronicle of the crusade of Richard I. (A.D. 1187-1192), at which he was himself present? In the prologue to his history he says 4 that he ought to be believed as being an eyewitness, in the same way as ' Dares Phrygius is more readily believed about the destruction of Troy because he was an eyewitness of what others related only on hearsay.' Vinsauf says of Godfrey de Lusignan's achievements in the Crusades that ' no one since the time of those famous soldiers Roland and Oliver could lay claim to such distinction ' ; 5 and 6 he says of Richard I., ' to whom even famous Roland could not be considered equal.' See also William of Malmesbury's Chronicle of Kings, p. 277. Geoffrey de Vinsauf says 7 the Turks ' abominate swine as unclean, because swine are said to have devoured Mahomet.' Gildas distinctly states 8 that all the older native histories of Britain had perished ; and yet Nennius says 9 ' the island of Britain derives its name from Brutus, a Roman consul;' and he gravely says, ' Respecting the period when this island became inhabited subsequently to the flood, I have seen two distinct relations.' 10 Nennius wrote his History of the Britons in the eighth, ninth, or tenth century. 11 He gravely relates that Vortigern, king of Britain, at the time of the Saxon invasion, fortunately discovered a boy who was born of a woman without the intervention of man, and whom on that account he was directed to put to death and thus escape from his difficulties. But the boy saved himself by performing the most astonishing miracles. 12 He also says 13 that Saint Patrick ' gave sight to the blind, cleansed the lepers, gave hearing to the deaf, cast out devils, raised men from the dead. ' 1 Koch, Tableau des Revolutions, vol. i. p. 315. 2 Ibid. p. 156. 5 Chronicles of Crusades, Bohn, 8vo, 1848, pp. iii, iv. 4 Ibid. p. 65. 8 Ibid. p. 203. 6 Ibid. p. 326. 7 Ibid. p. 319. Six Old English Chronicles, p. 301. 9 Ibid. p. 386. 10 Ibid. p. 387. 11 Ibid. pp. vii, 384. i 2 Ibid. pp. 402, 403. 13 Ibid. p. 410 ABSURDITIES IN EARLY HISTORY 231 See Geoffrey of Monmouth's account of the eleven thousand virgins. 1 At Marseilles, in 1646, Monconys 2 was told that seven out of the eleven thousand virgins were buried. (Prichard, Physical History of Mankind, pp. in, 172, 173.) On Gog and Magog, see Chronicles of Crusaders (Bohn, 1848, p. 476). Asser, in his Life of Alfred, traces Alfred's genealogy back to Seth and Adam. 3 Froissart 4 says, ' At last king Robert of Scotland arrived with red bleared eyes of the colour of sandal-wood, which clearly showed he was no valiant man, but one who would rather remain at home than march to the field.' Judas had red hair. This is perhaps an Eastern superstition. In the Institutes of Menu, chap. iii. sect, viii., 6 it is said of the pious man, ' Let him not marry a girl with reddish hair, nor with any deformed limb.' The ancient Egyptians had a great contempt for ' red-haired men.' 6 Blanco White 7 says that in Spain it is under- stood that Judas had red hair, and that Peter was bald ; and the former opinion, he observes, is alluded to by Shakespeare : ' His hair,' says Rosalind, in As You Like It, ' was of the dissembling colour something browner than Judas's.' Froissart 8 says that Arthur's principal residence was at Carlisle. It was believed ' that leap year had been caused by Joshua, when he made the sun stand still.' A writer of the tenth century notices this as the opinion of ' some unlearned priests.' 9 ' The real city of the Seven Sleepers was Ephesus ; but the story is attached traditionally to many other places in the East.' 10 Shakespeare, in King John, act ii. scene i, alludes to Richard the First's combat with a lion. } l For a curious instance of story repeated by classical writers, see Grote, History of Greece, iv. 394. 1 Six Old Chronicles, pp. 171-173, and Maury, Legendes pieuses, p. 214. 2 Voyages, vol. i. p. 195. 3 Six Old Chronicles, pp. 43, 44. 4 Chronicles, 8vo, 1839, vol. ii. p. 48. 5 Works of Sir W. Jones, vol. iii. p. 120. e Wilkinson, Ancient Egyptians, vol. v. pp. 344, 345. 7 Doblado's Letters from Spain, p. 289. 8 Chronicles, voL ii. p. 54. 9 Wright, Biog. Brit. Literaria, vol. i. p. 89. 10 Rawlinson, in Journal of Geographical Society, vol. ix. p. 72. See also William of Malmesbury, Chronicles of English Kings, pp. 250, 251. 11 See also Keightley's Mythology of Grece and Rome, pp. 10, ii. 232 FRAGMENTS There is a good evidence for the story of Tamerlane and the Iron Cage. 1 De Thou, the first historian of his age, relates as an undoubted fact that, among other prodigies which occurred in the wonderful year of 1588, a woman was delivered of twins within five days one of the other. When the ancient painters in the middle ages had occasion to- represent the siege of Troy, they always inserted some artillery. 2 Charles IV., in his Bull, in the fourteenth century, says that there must be seven electors to oppose the seven mortal sins. 3 The extent to which such feelings governed the minds of men is hardly to be believed. Pope Paul III. was unwilling to form an alliance with Francis L, because there was no conformity between their nativities. Melancthon, one of the most enlightened men of his time, was a prey to superstition of which a washerwoman would now be ashamed. When the gravest events were being discussed at the diet of Augsburg, he declared that the results would certainly be favourable to his own party, because the Tiber had overflowed its banks, and because there was born at Rome a mule with a crane's foot. I say nothing of their belief in witchcraft, in palmistry, and astrology. In 1545, at the opening of the council of Trent, a sermon was preached by the Bishop of Bitonto [?], in which he undertook to prove the necessity of the council being held. Among other reasons, one is that, in the ^Eneid, Jupiter is represented as holding a council of the gods. 4 PROGRESS IN EUROPEAN HISTORY AS SHOWN IN HISTORIANS. READ Rishanger's Chronicle, written early in the fourteenth cen- tury, in Camden Society's Publications. Fabian was a merchant, and Sir T. More a lawyer. Late in the fourteenth century, Richard of Cirencester wrote a treatise on the geography and history of Britain, which has only 1 See Works of Sir W. Jones, vol. v. pp. 547, 548. * See Sainte Palaye, Mem. sur 1'Ancienne Chevalerie, tome ii. p. 127. 5 Essai sur lee Mceurs, chap. Ixx. in CEuvres de Voltaire, tome xvi. p. 277. * Ibid. chap, clxxii. in CEuvres de Voltaire, tome xviii. p. 21. PROGRESS IN EUROPEAN HISTORY 233 been published by Bertram, at Copenhagen, in I757- 1 He was a Benedictine monk. In his history we find no miracles nor martyr- doms. He says of the early inhabitants of Britain, 2 ' Writers are not wanting who assert that Hercules came thither and established a sovereignty ; but it is needless to dwell on such remote antiqui- ties and idle tales.' At p. 464 he ironically says, ' Nor are those wanting who believe that London was shortly after built by a king called Bryto.' At p. 468 he apologises for the meagreness of the early history of Britain, because, ' conforming myself closely to the rules and laws of history, I have collected all the accounts of other persons which I found most accurate and deserving of credit. The reader must not expect anything beyond an enumeration of those emperors and Roman governors who had authority over this island.' Bede gives a long and dull account of the martyr- dom of St. Alban ; but Richard, speaking of Verulamium, simply says 'St. Alban, the martyr, was here born.' 3 I may first give an account of Joinville and Froissart, and then say that the pressure of the age was so strong as to be felt even by monks like William of Malmesbury and Richard of Cirencester, both of whom were naturally inferior to Bede. Joinville was a layman, and published his Memoirs of Louis IX. in I309. 4 It is said in the 'Penny Cyclopaedia' that he 'and his predecessor, Villehardouin, are among the oldest of the French chroniclers who wrote in the vernacular tongue.' Al- though Joinville's work is the history of an eminently religious undertaking, there are fewer miracles in it than in any preceding history. Indeed, he only mentions three miracles. 6 And he shows his anti-theological spirit by the general character of his narrative. Ducange 6 says he laughs ' at those who, having com- mitted atrocious acts of plunder during their lives, imagine they may acquit themselves before God by giving alms to some mon- asteries or churches,' Joinville also refused to wash the poor on Holy Thursday : ' never will I wash the feet of such fellows.' Giles 7 says, ' The story of Brute and the descent of the Britons from the Trojans was universally allowed by Giraldus Cambrensis 1 Six Old English Chronicles, Bohn, pp. xviii-xx, where no doubt is hinted as to its genuineness, which, however, from no one having seen the MS. , is suspected in Macray's Manual of British Historians, 8vo, 1845, pp. 46, 48. * Ibid. p. 422. 5 Ibid. p. 445. 4 Chronicles of Crusades, by Bohn, p. 347. 5 Ibid. pp. 434, 502, 512. 6 Ibid. Note, p. 356. 7 Preface to Six Chronicles, p. xi. 234 FRAGMENTS and others, and was opposed for the first time by John of Wellhamstede,' l who lived in the fifteenth century. Froissart. Froissart, a layman, wrote in the latter half of the fourteenth century. After the end of the thirteenth century there is no instance of any historian of note relating long miracles. In Froissart we seem carried into a new world, the old theological spirit being destroyed. He relates the deeds of noble knights, and love of lovely ladies, but ecclesiastics are altogether subordi- nate. He was naturally a man of great credulity (one of the most remarkable proofs of this is the extraordinary account he gives of the island of Cephalonia, which he believed to be go- verned by women who kept up a communication with fairies) ; 2 but the spirit of the age forbade his credulity running into a theological channel. The prevalence of feudality in polity, and chivalry in manners, though they were great evils, did, as I shall hereafter show, check and divert the theological spirit. It was not that Froissart wanted the moral element Among many other instances, he says, 3 after relating the death of Aymerigot Marcel, ' Had Aymerigot turned his mind to virtue, he would have done much good, for he was an able man at arms and of great courage ; but having acted in a different manner, he came to a disgraceful death.' This is a proof that Froissart did not, as is often said, exclusively look at warlike and military virtue. But the great object of his History was war. Thus, very early in his History, he says, ' The real object of this History being to relate the great enterprises and deeds of arms achieved in these wars;' 4 and, having nearly finished his History, he says of it, 'The more I labour at it, the more it delights me; just as a gallant knight or squire at arms, who loves his profession, the longer he continues in it, so much the more delectable it appears.' 5 He represents a battle as being decided, not by Providence, but by the courage of soldiers and skill of generals. I do not re- member a single passage in his History in which he speaks of a lost battle as a divine retribution ; and there are several passages where in guarded language he seems to imply an opposite opinion. Thus, 6 ' It always happens that in war there are gains and losses ; i Nicholson's English Hist. Library, 2nd. edit. p. civ. * Froissart, vol. ii. pp. 650, 651. 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 465, chap. xix. * Ibid. vol. i. p. 5, chap. iv. 5 Ibid. voL ii. p. 548. 6 Ibid. vol. ii. p. i. PROGRESS IX EUROPEAN HISTORY 235 very extraordinary are the chances, as those know well who follow the profession ; ' and again, ' Good or evil fortune depends on a trifle.' 1 He says of the crusade undertaken by Philip of France about 1333, 'The croisade was preached and published over the world, which gave much pleasure to many, especially to those who wished to spend their time in feats of arms, and who at that time did not know where otherwise to employ themselves.' z He par- ticularises no miracles. The only exception to this is 3 where he says of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, 'Many miracles have been performed at his tomb in Pomfret, where he was beheaded.' Ob- serve this is of a layman, not of a saint. He says that in a battle every one would have been slain, ' if it had not been, as it were, .a miracle of God.' 4 Again, 'who by divine inspiration (as one may well suppose it) gained information that Paris was to be sacked and destroyed.' 5 At vol. ii. p. 312, beginning of chap, ci., he says, 'About this period there were many rumours that the body of St. Peter de Luxembourg, who had been a cardinal, showed miraculous powers in the city of Avignon.' Froissart and Monstrelet, who wrote forty-five years later, are the first French writers who took an extensive view of foreign history, and who saw the necessity of filiating the order of events. Froissart's is the most voluminous and comprehensive history that had yet appeared in Europe. He relates the affairs of England, France, Scotland, Spain, and Portugal. Froissart says, 6 ' If I were merely to say such and such things happened at such times, without entering fully into the matter, which was grandly horrible and disastrous, it would be a chronicle, but no history.' He says, 7 'It should be known that in the year 1390 I had laboured at this history thirty-seven years, and at that time I was fifty-seven years old.' William of Newbury, who died in 1208, is one of the best historians of his age, and in his History of his own Time he, ' in a preface of some length, protests against the absurdity of the fabulous history of King Arthur, and the prophecies of Merlin, and treats very contemptuously the authority of Geoffrey of Mon- mouth.' 8 Newbury was a monk. 1 Froissart, voL ii. p. 287. * Ibid voL i. p. 39. 3 Ibid. vol. i. p. 6. * Ibid. vol. i. p. 30. 5 Ibid. vol. i. p. 246. 6 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 239. 7 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 258. 8 Wright's Biog. Brit. Lit, vol. ii. p. 408. 236 FRAGMENTS Campbell l says Sir Thomas More's Edward V. and Richard^ III. ' has the merit of being the earliest historical composition in the English language.' If so, this is another proof of how much later history was developed in England than in France. In the sixteenth century, notwithstanding the preceding pro- gress, little was done. In Italy, indeed, where, as we shall hereafter see, scepticism first arose, we find the beginning of their illustrious thinkers, which extend from Guicciardini and Macchi- avelli to Vico and Giannone, but in other countries gross credulity. Then give some instances of that credulity. BALLADS, ETC. I. THE very sermons which the ignorant preachers addressed to their ignorant audience were enlivened not only by the introduc- tion of the fables of ^Esop, all of which were looked upon as strictly true, but also by various tales of much more questionable merit ; and the custom became so general that the tales which were related on these occasions were thrown into various collec- tions in order to refresh the memory of the clergy. These stories,, which formed a large part of the spiritual instruction of the people, are such as were natural to the ignorance of barbarians depraved by the superstition of priests. In them we learn how an Indian girl of exquisite beauty, having been fed on serpents, was sent to Alexander as a fatal gift; how a certain empress,, becoming pregnant by her own son, was moved to repentance by the sudden appearance of the Virgin Mary, &c. (See Swan's. ' Gesta Roman orum.') II. William of Malmesbury made a step in advance, but even in his time the influence of ballads remained, and, as Warton says, 2 ' It is remarkable that almost all the professed writers in prose of this age made experiments in verse.' Giraldus Cambrensis, who wrote at the end of the twelfth century, was also a poet. 3 At the end of the thirteenth century, Robert of Gloucester put Geoffrey of Monmouth into rhyme ; 4 and early in the fourteenth century Robert de Brunne wrote a metrical Chronicle of England. 5 This, I suspect, was the first sign of improvement, for he tells the 1 Lives of the Chancellors, voL i. p. 586. * History of English Poetry, vol. i. pp. cxx, cxxi. 5 Ibid. vol. i. pp. cxxiv, cxxv. * Ibid. vol. i. p. 47. 5 Ibid. p. 58. BALLADS, ETC. 237 reader that he has avoided the language of minstrels and harpers. 1 Warton says z that Richard I. ' is the last of our monarchs whose achievements were adorned with fiction and fable.' Saxo Grammaticus wrote in the twelfth century. A very competent authority says, ' The history of Ireland by Jeffrey Keating is not one whit more true than that of Britain by his namesake of Monmouth.' 3 Bede could not describe accurately even external objects. Among the Hindoos, mythological fables have arisen out of confusion of language.* III. Bede, the most celebrated and perhaps the most judicious collector of such early traditions, makes liberal additions to them. In the account, for instance, of the Magi who worshipped Christ, he enters into the fullest details, from which we learn that Melchior was an old man with a long beard ; that Caspar, the second of the Magi, was young, and that, though he had no beard, it was he who offered the frankincense. Neander 5 says that St Patrick first gave the Irish an alphabet. IV. ... In the same way the famous Olaf, king of Norway, is said to have disappeared in the middle of battle, to have never returned, but to have been anxiously expected during five cen- turies. This myth has crept into a history of the south, and we are assured that exactly the same thing happened to Sebastian of Portugal. 6 Wraxall, who was in Lisbon in 1773, says that many persons still believed that Sebastian had appeared at Venice in I598- 7 Respecting Whittington and his cat, see Common-Place J3ook, ART. 854. At Sleswick, as ' in most Protestant towns,' there is a tradition of the eyes of an artist being put out by the priests that he might not surpass his own work. 8 V. ... Ctesias corrupted history by copying monuments. The poverty of invention in the middle ages is shown by the fact that 'many of the Roman Catholic legends are taken from 1 History of English Poetry, vol. i. pp. 67, 68. * Ibid. pp. 125, 126. 5 Keightley on the Transmission of Tales and Fictions, 1834, p. 178. 4 See Wilson's Vishnu Parana, pp. 280, 380. Read Walker's Memoirs of Irish Bards. Evan's Welsh Ballads, Miss Brooke's Reliques of Ancient Irish Poetry. See Prichard's Physical History of Mankind, vol. iii. pp. 140, 141. 5 History of the Church, vol. iii. p. 176. See Crichton's Scandinavia, vol. i. p. 153. " Historical Memoirs of my own Time, 8vo, 1818, vol. i. p. 73. 8 Laing's Denmark, p. 222. 238 FRAGMENTS Apuleius.' l Middleton and Blunt have shown this of the Christian ceremonies. Read Panizzi on the Poetry of the Italians, quoted by Lewis. 2 Read also Eichhorn, Geschichte der Literatur, quoted by Lewis. 3 VI. (See No. i.) In a celebrated French mystery performed by the clergy on Christmas Day, the principal characters were Moses in an alb and cope, Balaam with large spurs, and David in a green waistcoat, to whom was added Virgil, who in monkish rhymes carried on a conversation with these sacred persons. VII. The modes in which, at this stage of society, history became falsified, are too various to be enumerated. Sometimes the apparent improbability of an event caused its rejection, and there was substituted for it an occurrence which, though it never happened, seemed better to harmonise with the other circum- stances which accompanied it. Sometimes an accidental pecu- liarity in the name of a hero gave rise to the relation of an imaginary adventure. . . . Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, mentions as a vulgar story, ' Kentish men having long tails, for the murder of Thomas Becket' 4 VIII. The first historian in Dutch seems to have been Miles Stoke at the very end of the thirteenth century. 5 But there was one who wrote in Latin (Sigbert of Genblonus) in the middle of the twelfth century. 6 However, ' Zyn werk is vol de fabelen in de oude lyden.' 7 Early in the fourteenth century, Lodewyk van Villhelm published his Spiegel Historiaal, a continuation of the History of Maerlant, in which he places together the predictions of Daniel, of St. John, of the conjuror Merlin, and of the Abbot Hildegard. 8 Did not Maerlant write history ? In the Netherlands in the fourteenth century there were Sprekers, the same as our minstrels. 9 I might extend considerably these specimens of almost incredible anachronisms, but I will only mention one more, which is sufficiently striking, and which applies to a so-called Universal History, written just after the invention of printing. 10 Daniel, in his History of France, says that Louis VIII. when 1 Coleridge's Literary Remains, vol. i. p. 188. 3 Observations on Politics, vol. i. p. 280. 3 Ibid. pp. 312, 320. 4 Observations on Sorbiere's Voyage to England, p. 129, Lond. 1709. 5 See Van Kampen, Geschiedenis der Letteren in de Niederlanden, deel i. blad 14. 6 Ibid, blad 28. 7 Ibid, blad 29. 8 ifcjd. blad 22. 9 Ibid, blad 26. 10 Ibid, blad 43. BALLADS, ETC. 239 very ill was ordered by his physician to admit to his bed a young woman, which the pious king refused, and therefore died. This story, says Voltaire, has been related of other kings. l It is said that the only man who escaped the Sicilian Vespers in 1282 was named Porcellet ; and it is also said that Porcellet saved Richard Coeur de Lion when surrounded by Saracens. 2 IX. Historical ballads, or at all events political songs, were very common in the time of the Fronde. 3 I think their importance after this period rapidly declined. Another source of error consists in applying to individuals what has been said of cities. This is done in the Old Testament, and is said to have been done in French history. 4 It is thus that in metaphysical philosophy Hartley and Condillac almost at the same moment and without any knowledge of each other's labours arrived at similar conclusions upon some of the highest and most difficult branches of abstract knowledge. The story of the eleven thousand virgins is very commonly related. 5 A story similar to the myth which relates how Dido got Carthage is common in the East. 6 Wright 7 says, 'But it was a peculiar trait in the character of the middle ages to create ima- ginary personages and clothe them with the attributes of a class types, as it were, of popular belief, or of popular attachment or glory.' 8 And Wright says that, perhaps from the associations with the remains of ancient art, ' the people of the middle ages first saw the type of the magician in the poets and philosophers of the classic days. The physician Hippocrates, under the corrupted name of Ypocras, was supposed to have effected his cures by magic, and he was the subject of a legendary history certainly as old as the twelfth century, containing incidents which were sub- sequently told of a more celebrated conjuror, Virgil.' He adds, 9 ' It is not impossible that the equivocal meaning of the Latin word carmen (which means a poem and a charm) may have contributed 1 See Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. li. at end. (Euvres de Voltaire, tome xvi. pp. 102, 103, and tome xl. p. 211. 2 See CEuvres de Voltaire, 1826, tome xv. p. 208. 5 See Grimm's Correspondance litte>aire. tome vi. pp. 244, 245. 4 See Sorel, Bibliotheque fran9aise, p. 300. 5 See Prichard's Physical History of Mankind, voL iii. pp. 172, 173, note. 8 See Malcolm's History of Persia, vol. i. p. 242. 7 Narratives of Sorcery and Magic, Lond. 1850. voL i. p. 99. * Ibid. p. 100. 9 Ibid. 240 FRAGMENTS to the popular reputation of poets ; ' l and again, ' Down to a very recent period, if not at the present day, the people in the neigh- bourhood of Palestrina have looked upon Horace as a powerful and benevolent wizard.' Mr. Wright has given 2 a very curious account of the myths in the middle ages respecting Virgil. Vico 3 says that the French nation ' a conserve une sorte de poeme homerique dans 1'histoire de 1'archeveque Turpin, qu'ont ensuite embelli tant de poemes et de romans.' Vico says, 4 ' Au moyen age les historiens latins furent des poetes hero'iques comme Gun- tdrus, Guillaume de Pouilles, et autres.' He says 5 that the Greek singers or rhapsodists learnt pieces of Homer. Frankfort-on-the-Main, so called because the Franks discovered a ford there to cross the river Main. The forged writings of Dionysius the Areopagite were particu- larly influential in the Greek monasteries. 6 In the tenth century a missionary called Bruno was surnamed Boniface, and 'two different persons having been made out of these two names, a missionary Boniface was invented, who is to be wholly stricken out of the list of historical persons.' 7 Coryat, who was in Switzerland in 1609, heard the story of Tell, all of which he devoutly believed. 8 Archdeacon Hare believes all about Tell. Mackay says, 9 'It has been ingeniously surmised that the genealogy from Shem to Abraham is in part significant of geogra- phical localities, or successive stations occupied by the Hebrews,' &c. As to the origin of St. Luke being believed to be a painter, see Swinburne's Courts of Europe at Close of Last Century, vol. i. pp. 231, 232. Read Blunt's Vestiges of Ancient Manners in Italy. Kemble, 10 speaking of Saxo Grammaticus, gently notices ' Saxo's very extraordinary mode of rationalising ancient mythological traditions.' Because there was no tide in the Baltic we are told that Canute ordered his chair to be taken to the coast to show that the tide would not retire at his command. 11 On the Niebe- 1 Narratives of Sorcery and Magic. 2 Ibid. pp. 101-121. 3 Philosophic de 1'Histoire, p. 34. 4 Ibid., p. 162. 5 Ibid. pp. 274, 275. 6 Neander's History of the Church, vol. v. p. 234. 7 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 57. 8 See Coryat's Crudities, vol. ii. pp. 193-196. 9 Progress of the Intellect, Lond. 1850, voL i. p. 402. 10 Saxons in England, vol. i. p. 340. " Laing's Denmark, p. 286. BALLADS, ETC. 241 lungen Lied, note that Laing l says that while all tradition of it is lost in Germany, fragments exist in the oral state at the present day in the Fsero Islands. Laing 2 says that Saxo Grammaticus employed ' historical Saga different from those used by his contem- porary Snorro.' Another source of confusion was that the Church and clerical historians introduced the Latin language, in which Laing says, 3 the spirit of old events perished. And ' Philology ' shows that a new language will introduce errors. Ranke 4 says, ' As in all countries the legend of the Wild Huntsman has been con- nected with the most renowned names, Arthur, Waldemar, and Charlemagne, so in France it was associated with that of Hugh Capet.' Compare Grimm, German Mythology, p. 894. A great source of error has been that poets have copied in their works engravings or sculptures. Gothe relates that when a youth he made poems to suit some engravings with which he met. 8 Marsden 6 says of the Sumatrans, ' The country people can very seldom give an account of their age, being entirely without any species of chronology.' 7 For a singular instance of a strange story told twice of the same person, see Autobiography of the Emperor lehangueir, pp. 68, 69. In the Russian account of Kamtschatka it is said of the natives, * They keep no account of their age, though they count as far as one hundred.' 8 There was a very important sect known as the Paulicians, said to be Manichaean. Those men by whom in the middle ages ecclesiastical history was written laid hold of this and declared that the sect must owe its origin to a man named Paul, who must be not the apostle but a heretic. And on this ground they ascribe the sect to various Pauls, all without reason. (Paulicians are said to be an offshoot of Manicheism.) On the confused notions of the Greeks, Neander 9 observes from Ritter that they called Ethiopia and Arabia Felix part of India. 1 Laing's Denmark, pp. 347, 348. * Ibid. p. 346. 3 Ibid. p. 369. * Civil Wars of France in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Lond. 1852, vol. i. p. 259. 5 See the curious passage in Wahrheit uud Dichtung, in Gothe's Werke, band ii. theil ii. p. 98, and Bonn's translation, voL i. p. 267. 6 History of Sumatra, p. 248. 7 Ibid. p. 248. 8 Grieve's History of Kamtschatka, p. 177, 410. 9 History of the Church, vol. i. p. 113. VOL. I. R 242 FRAGMENTS PRELIMINARY FOR REIGN OF ELIZABETH. THE spirit of chivalry, which during the middle ages had greatly hastened the progress of civilization, not only ceased to produce good, but tended to retard what it had before accelerated. The sterner features of knightly sentiment are incompatible with true civilization with that civilization which humanises, not a single class, but an entire people. It is to the lingering spirit of chivalry that we owe some of the most absurd enactments which disgrace our statute-book, and the last operation of that spirit may be traced in the present day in the sentiment of those mad enthu- siasts who extol the superior virtues of barbarism, and look on the increase of wealth and luxury as the sure sign of a declining civilization. 1 The history of England from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, inclusive, is the history of a continual struggle between the middle class, who represent the modern civilization, and the upper classes, who represent the ancient civilization of chivalry. Everything which tended to increase the comfort, and therefore to ameliorate the condition of men, was stigmatised, not only as an impertinent novelty, but as a demoralising luxury. Hence even coaches were on their first introduction denounced as effeminate, and as ill suited to the manly character of Britons. It is to this spirit that we owe the sumptuary laws. 2 When did the middle classes arise ? Of course when chivalry declined. Probably the rebellion of 1569 was the last instance in this country of the spirit of chivalry producing such an effect. Wright has observed 3 that probably all the families who took share in it ' were allied by blood or intermarriage with the tw& families of the Percies and Nevilles.' 1 For the absurdity of supposing that wealth has an uncivilizing tendency, see the admirable remarks of Whately (Political Economy, Lond. 1831, pp. 42, 43, 58, 64). The fourteenth century, which is the dawn of civilization, is the period when chivalry began to decline. See C. P. B. art. 1236. 2 See some amusing instances of this given by Mr. Maitland in his interesting paper on the early use of carriages in England, in Archaeologia, vol. xx. pp. 443- 476, and in particular the quotation at p. 469. 3 Wright's Elizabeth, Lond. 1838, vol. i. p. xxxiv. SIXTEENTH CENTURY 243 SIXTEENTH CENTURY. AT the end of the fifteenth century there occurred two most important events which gave a new direction to the current of European thought. To the West a new world was found. To the East a new passage was discovered, by which thousands of inquisitive men hastened to the cradle of the human race. To America, to Asia, and to Africa, there poured a stream of travel- lers, whose relations of what they had seen were read with an eager curiosity of which we can now scarcely form an idea. The field of history thus suddenly enlarged as to space, was necessarily contracted as to time. Instead of tracing the annals of a people back to their supposed origin, the views of historians became concentrated on the marvellous events of their own age. The effect of this spirit was soon apparent in a general disposition to break those imaginary links by which Europe was connected with the most remote antiquity. Towards the end of the reign of Henry VIII., Polydore Virgil, the best writer on English history that had yet appeared, boldly denied the existence of Brute, and even ventured to hint his suspicions as to the value of that romance by Geoffrey of Monmouth, which the world had long considered as a work of unimpeachable veracity. It is possible, though I think it is scarcely probable, that the tendency to purge history of its fables would under ordinary circumstances have worn itself out, and have been succeeded by some newer fashion. But towards the end of the sixteenth, and during great part of the seventeenth century, it was still further confirmed by the revolutions which broke out in every part of Europe, and which fixed the attention even of speculative men upon the momentous events that were passing around them. Macchiavelli and Guicciardini, De Thou and Sully, Davila and Bentivoglio, Clarendon and Burnet, were certainly superior to any historian who had yet appeared. But they were so deeply im- pressed with the important events of their own generation that they had little inclination to busy themselves with those of a former age. This explains the fact that during more than a century the greatest historians in Europe were those who occu- pied themselves in writing the history of their own times. And R 2 244 FRAGMENTS that this is the real explanation becomes still more probable from the circumstance that in Spain, where, after the expulsion of the Moors, there was no great revolution, there is not to be found any eminent contemporary historian. If we require any further confirmation of the accuracy of these views, we shall find it in the circumstance that the first man of genius who studied history with anything like comprehensive views was a native of that country where the insurrectionary spirit was first decisively quelled. The revolutions of France had in the middle of the seventeenth century been brought to a close before the people had succeeded in obtaining their liberties. The ultimate consequences of this were most disastrous, and were afterwards felt during many generations, but in a mere literary point of view the effect was at first beneficial. The splendid successes of Louis XIV. soon conciliated his subjects, and his power was such as to render hopeless even the idea of popular resistance. The versatile intellect of France, diverted from politics, took refuge in letters, and produced a literature which, so far as polish and beauty are concerned, it would be difficult to match in any country or any age. Of the ornaments of that time, Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, was in many respects one of the most remarkable. This great man, wonderful as an orator, still more wonderful as a divine, is perhaps the finest theological genius that Christianity has yet produced. It is, however, with his work on Universal History that we are now more immediately con- cerned. In this most remarkable fragment he has displayed a sublimity and a grandeur which is unrivalled in the whole compass of historic literature. But it had great faults, which perhaps were natural to his cha- racter, and which certainly were natural to the circumstances under which he was placed. His powerful mind was hampered by the prejudices of his profession, and this made him the more willing to refer all matters of difficulty to authority rather than to reason. This affection for tradition is indeed still character- istic of the clergy, but in his admiration for what is called classical antiquity Bossuet was also influenced by feelings which he held in common with nearly every man of his time. It is indeed dif- ficult for us at the present day to understand the extraordinary veneration with which even the wisest of men formerly regarded the ancient world. As such a feeling, by exaggerating the SIXTEENTH CENTURY 245 achievements of the past, was of course very prejudicial to the progress of history, I shall now give some evidence of the extent to which it had spread in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and I will then endeavour to trace those circumstances which led to its decline. Among the many benefits which Europe owes to the Reforma- tion, the right of the exercise of private judgment would, if it had been persisted in, have been unquestionably the most important. As long as the reformers admitted that right, it is evident that the antagonistic principle of submission to authority in matters of opinion must have been proportionably weakened : and with it must also have been weakened that veneration for antiquity which can only be felt by men who prefer the submission of faith to the exercise of reason. It is not, therefore, surprising to find in the writings of the earliest Protestants innumerable passages expressing their contempt of form and tradition, and even their disregard for the most accredited opinions of the ancient fathers. But as soon as the first heat of Protestantism had subsided, its leaders found it advisable to recur to that principle of faith which they had somewhat hastily discarded. They found that opinions which were convenient enough for a rising sect were by no means suitable for a wealthy Church. The results are but too well known to the readers of ecclesiastical history. Those men who had risen to power by professing the right of private judgment did not hesitate to abrogate this right as soon as they had gained the power. Aided by the civil magistrate, they emulated the tyranny of her whom they loved to call the Man of Sin, and the whore of Babylon. Without the slightest regard to the inde- pendent judgment of individuals, they framed articles and canons and dogmas which under the severest penalties they expected to be implicitly received. As these proceedings could scarcely be defended by reason, it was necessary to defend them by authority ; and both Catholics and Protestants eagerly appealed to antiquity to justify their respective measures. If a theological tenet was at stake, the question to be decided was not whether it was rational, or whether it was suited to the exigencies of society, but the question was if it could be found in the writings of Irenaeus or Cyprian, if it was mentioned by Tertullian before he became a Montanist, or if it was to be discovered in the works of the apostolic fathers. This is the way in which, in the sixteenth cen- 246 FRAGMENTS tury, disputes were conducted ; and this is what we are expected to admire as the model of controversial theology. By common consent both parties spurned anything like an attempt at inde- pendent reasoning ; and questions of the deepest interest were decided by an appeal to writers whose works are defaced by the most contemptible puerilities, and whose antiquity was the only possible claim they could have to respect. While such was the spirit in which men handled the sublimest dogmas of religion, it was hardly to be expected that they would adopt a better course in the inferior department of profane history. If an argument was to be constructed, or an illustration to be found, it was always to the history of Greece, of Rome, or of Judaea, that men turned their eyes. The annals of modern people were considered to labour under some inherent disadvantage, and not to possess that dignity which entitled them to the attention of the learned. Not only was everything of value written in the Latin language, but the minds of men seemed unable to support the idea of anything beyond a servile imitation of the ancients. The writings of Cicero, which, beautiful as they are, too often by their redundance transcend the bounds of a severe taste, were the delight of men who admired the sparkle but could not see the gold. A number of these authors would only use Ciceronian phrases ; and, when Erasmus ventured to ridicule this folly, he was attacked with the most indecent fury. Macchiavelli was a man of the most unques- tionable capacity, and, considering the age in which he lived, of large views ; but he drew all his illustrations from antiquity. At the end of the sixteenth century the two great English his- torians were Camden and Hay ward. Camden, indeed, was a mere antiquary, and even in that branch of knowledge was very care- less, as those who have made much use of his Britannia will readily allow. As an historian, he was still more inaccurate ; and his history of Elizabeth, though it will always possess value as a con- temporary relation, literally swarms with blunders, and does not contain a single observation which is worthy of being remembered. Hay ward was a writer of somewhat superior intellect, and is the first of our historians who attempted to investigate the causes of par- ticular actions and the motives of statesmen. His history of part of the reign of Elizabeth was written early in the seventeenth century, and shows the usual respect for antiquity. Thus, on the occasion of the siege of Leith by the English, Hay ward inquires SIXTEENTH CENTURY 247 into the propriety of their attacking some churches in which the French had posted their artillery. The mere existence of a doubt on such a question shows the superstition of the age ; but, as the English determined to fire into the churches, Hayward thinks it necessary to justify their resolution by quoting passages from Livy, from Florus, from Josephus,.from Tacitus, and from Isocrates. Indeed, several years later, we find a similar method employed by men of much superior powers. Selden was not only an able politician, but was unquestionably the most learned Englishman of his time. He in the year 1640 published a work upon the Law of Nations, but, so far from condescending to settle that intricate matter by human reason, he founds the whole of his arguments upon a lying invention of the Rabbis, called the Seven Precepts of Noah. Even De Thou, whose justly celebrated history appeared early in the seventeenth century, was by no means free from the pre- vailing spirit Bayle's work on the Comet, which was written in 1681, was not allowed to be printed in France. His reply to Maimbourg was publicly burnt in Paris. He himself was driven from his native country, and compelled to take refuge in Holland, where he published his Critical Dictionary, the most celebrated and elabo- rate of all his works. He died while Louis XIV. was yet on the throne ; and he was not destined to see that great moral revolution to which he was the first contributor. In 1690, Perrault, in his cele- brated parallel between the Ancients and Moderns, not only preferred the last, but placed Scudery and Chapelain above Homer. In 1715, Terrasson published an elaborate attack upon Homer. La Motte published an abridgment of the Iliad, and considered that by doing so he had greatly improved the original. Indeed, he stated in an essay that the merits of Homer were, in his opinion, greatly over- rated. This outbreak against the ancient celebrities was conducted by men very incompetent [to] the task ; but there never before was an age in which such things would have been even dreamt of. It was natural that the same spirit which attacked classical prejudice should also attack theological prejudices. This was now done by Fontenelle, a very remarkable man, whose long life connected two great ages of French literature. The Fathers, who were not very good judges of evidence, had generally taken for granted the super- natural origin of the pagan oracles. They, however, took care to 248 FRAGMENTS add that the priests were inspired by Satan, who hoped by this stratagem to put to confusion the people of God. Such was the superstition among even the best informed of European scholars, that this theory was very generally believed until the end of the seventeenth century. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. GROTIUS, the first great historical thinker after Macchiavelli, was [born] in Holland, the first great republic in Europe. Men were still very ignorant. The population of France was differently estimated at from five to twenty millions. 1 Monteil 2 observes how few works there were in the seventeenth century on politics. Capefigue 3 says that after the defeat of the Armada in 1588, the prosperity and revolutionary freedom of Holland began. Capefigue 4 says that ' les gazettes hollandaises ' first began in the seventeenth century. The kingly character even declined. Olivarez, Richelieu, and Buckingham were supreme, and Europe had such miserable sovereigns as James I., Louis XIII. , and Philip III. Then the Fronde, Massaniello, Retz, Cromwell. Spain lost Naples and Catalonia. All this was aided by the change in the value of money. Spain, the last great e.cclesiastical monarchy the world has ever seen, was now falling to pieces ; and, as I shall hereafter show, the sceptical movement was seizing all the departments of politics. The independent and personal method of Bacon and Descartes, which, so far from being different, are identical. Hallam 5 says that Hakewill in his Apology, or Declaration of the Power of God, in 1627, 'seems to be one of the first' who claimed for modern literature a superiority over the ancient. In a pamphlet published in 1652, the population of Paris is estimated at 6,ooo,ooo. 6 There was as yet no real community of nations, and little sympathy. The execution of Charles I. was not known in Paris till three weeks after it occurred. The memoirs of Retz, a great demagogue, are the first that show political penetration ; they are the first that, like Clarendon and Burnet, sketch character, thus showing the 1 See Monteil, Histoire des Franfais, tome viii. p. 278. 2 Ibid. p. 290, note. 3 Histoire de la ReYorme, tome v. p. 102. 4 Richelieu, Mazarin et la Fronde, tome ii. p. 30. 5 Literature, vol. iii. p. 236. 6 Sainte-Aulaire, Histoire de la Fronde, tome ii. p. 247. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 249 increasing sense of the importance of [the] people and individual [sj. Retz 1 speaks with the greatest contempt of the ' vulgar historian.' See also tome ii. p. 114, where he thinks historians can only know what they see and do. Patin was so struck by the revolutionary character of the age, that in 1649 he writes, 2 ' II y a quelques con- stellations en rigueur centre les tetes couronne"es.' In 1650, Patin writes from Paris, 3 ' II y a ici un Je"suite qui a conqu un nouveau dessin touchant la geographic. II s'appelle le pere Laurent le Brun ; il nous veut donner une geographic universelle in-folio.' Oliver St. John, one of the most influential members of the Long Parliament, was the first Englishman who seriously laboured to establish an English democracy, an idea which he is said to have acquired when in Holland. Horoscope of Louis XIV. 4 In the seventeenth century the great movement for independence, hitherto theological, now first became secular and philosophical, and Luther and Calvin were succeeded by Bacon, Descartes, Grotius, and Leibnitz. It was Holland that resisted the dangerous force of Louis XIV. and gave us a free king, William III. Bayle and Quesnel fled to Holland, and so did Jurieu, who, as Capefigue well says, 5 ' appartenait a ces reformateurs qui proclamaient 1'em- pire des masses sur les rois, de Pelection sur les droits de race.' The Dutch published all sorts of caricatures against Louis XIV. 6 Many of their pamphlets were even circulated in Paris, and made the people discontented with Louis XIV. 7 The abdication of James II. was not known in the Orkney Islands till three months after it occurred. It is said that Brienne, who visited Lapland in 1654, was the first Frenchman who had ever been there. The characteristics of the seventeenth century were political revolution, speculative legislation, and the rise of geography as connected with history. The Eastern nations, even at the present day, have no idea of numbers. 8 Wilkinson 9 says, ' It is remarkable that in the East no one knows his exact age, nor do they keep any registers of births or deaths.' In 1724, M. de Moivre published the first edition of his Tract on Annuities on Lives. In an elaborate de- scription of London written in 1643, it is estimated that London 1 Me'moires, vol. i. pp. 448, 453. * Lettres, tome i. p. 151. 3 Ibid, tome ii. p. 251. * Me'moires de Lenet, tome ii. p. 48. 5 Louis XIV., tome i. pp. 215, 279, 328. 8 See specimens in Capefigue, Louis XIV., tome i. pp. 147, 176, 408, 464. 7 Ibid. p. 377. 8 See Crete's History of Greece, vol. v. p. 53. 9 Ancient Egyptians, vol. ii. p. 34. 250 FRAGMENTS contains 500,000 houses, and more than 3,000,000 people. 1 Bunsen says, ' Towards the close of the sixteenth century, Joseph Scaliger commenced his great undertaking, the restoration of ancient chronology.' See Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. p. 231, et seq., where the highest praises are bestowed upon Scaliger. Carlyle says, ' Lord Clarendon, a man of sufficient unveracity of heart, to whom indeed whatsoever has direct veracity of heart is more or less horrible.' 2 In 1686 there were great disputes about the popu- lation of London and Paris. 3 Even in the middle of the reign of George II. it was a common dispute whether London or Paris were the more populous. 4 Even ninety years ago it was an un- settled question ' whether London or Paris is the larger city.' 5 PHILOLOGY. THE historical importance of the study of languages has during the present century been made peculiarly apparent. By it we have ascertained the movements of nations at a time when written records were not in existence. Thus we know that the great Gothic nations and the great Celtic nations have a common origin, and that both of them came from Asia. In a general view of the history of mankind, these two facts are of course of immense importance, but we know of no means except by Philology by which they could have been discovered. The origin of language was the naming of our sensations, and this forms what are com- monly called Nouns-Substantive. These, it is clear, must be the names of the most important sensations. Mr. James Mill 6 says ' Sensations being infinitely numerous, all cannot receive marks or signs. A selection must be made. Only those which are the most important are named.' He adds 7 that most nouns-substan- tive are first names of sensation, and ' are afterwards employed as names also of the ideas or copies of these sensations.' If, therefore, we have a list of the nouns-substantive of any people, we may tell what sensations they considered most important. If, for instance, 1 See Lethgore's Survey of London in Somers Tracts, vol. iv. p. 541. 2 Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. i. p. 106. 3 See Ray's Correspondence, edited by Lankester, p. 189. 4 Le Blanc's Lettres d'un Fran9ais, tome i. p. 385. 5 The Police of France, Lond. 410, 1763, p. 123. 6 Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, Lond. 1829, vol. i. p. 93. ' Ibid. p. 96. PHILOLOGY 251 every record of the Arabs had perished except a dictionary of their language, we should know that they were jealous of their women when we found that they had several names for eunuchs. Another remark is that we may ascertain the extent to which a people have pushed the process of abstraction, by noting the number of abstract words to be found in their language. In the same way, the extent to which commercial expressions have crept into a lan- guage show the extent to which the people have become commer- cial. Here then we have another consideration of great moment. Since the association of ideas is intimately connected with language, and since there can be little doubt that the firmest belief is only a case of indissoluble association, it follows that the speech of every people must greatly modify their beliefs, or, in other words, their opinions. Nor can this be answered by objecting that the language of nations would follow their ideas, and not precede them. For in the first place, without adopting the extravagance of the Nominalists, it is certain that, even if we suppose a people to have entirely worked out their own language, there can be no doubt that in some instances such language would precede and govern the order of their ideas. But in the second place, this supposition is an unnecessary concession, for there probably never existed any people whose natural speech was free from foreign elements, which have been forced upon them by external circumstances unconnected with their own intellectual development. In England, for instance, there can be no doubt that the introduction by the Normans of a refined, and, comparatively speaking, a philosophic language must, so soon as it became interwoven into the Saxon, have produced considerable effect upon the trains of ideas of our countrymen, and therefore upon their opinions. The advantage we thus received is an advantage over and above that which we gained from such know- ledge as the Norman race were able to impart. The knowledge itself is now useless. In every respect we have far outstripped that savage race who were only civilized inasmuch as they were less barbarous than their neighbours. But by the communication of their language, they have laid the foundation of a dialect which, at the present time, influences every Englishman in his own despite during every moment of his existence, and which has contributed to fix our national associations, and to regulate our national opinions. Supposing other things equal, if in any language we find one word having five synonyms, and another word having only 252 FRAGMENTS two synonyms, we may rely upon it that the sensation represented by the first word is considered more important than the sensation represented by the second. In the same way it will always be found that when two correlatives represent ideas nearly equal in importance, a word will be invented for each ; but that when there is no sort of equality between them there will be [no] word for the smaller correlative and one for the greater. Mill notices this, 1 but this remark had already been made in Hume's Essay on the Populousness of Ancient Nations. Sir J. Mackintosh says Leibnitz 'seems to have been the first philosophical ety- mologist, and to have rightly estimated the importance of the Teutonic nations and languages. That he called them Celtic was a mistake which can appear important only to Mr. Pinker- ton.' 2 Mr. Rogers, in his Essay upon Leibnitz, says that great man ' was probably the first to predict the important connection so fruitful of results which would be found to subsist between philological and historical researches, and the light which the former might be made to shed on the latter.' 3 In India the monsoon being an ordinary phenomenon, there is no name for it. 4 EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. I HAVE thus brought down to the close of the seventeenth cen- tury a general view of the progress of historical literature, in which, passing over matter of minor importance, I have en- deavoured to confine myself to those changes which mark the great epochs through which the human mind has successively passed. The leading nations of Europe, though steadily ad- vancing, had hitherto, with the exception of the mathematical and a few of the physical sciences, effected nothing of much value in any of the departments of knowledge, and some of the most powerful minds were still corrupted by foolish and grovelling superstition. There was, however, now at hand a great movement, which, though it first appeared in England, displayed its great activity in France, where it eventually overturned an ancient monarchy, a corrupt nobility, and a licentious priesthood. But 1 Analysis of the Mind, Lond. 1829, vol. ii. p. 87. 3 Memoirs of Sir J. Mackintosh, edited by his Son, 1835, vol. i. pp. 397, 398. 5 Rogers, Essays, Lond. 1850, vol. i. pp. 191, 192. 4 See Crawfurd's History of the Indian Archipelago vol. i. pp. 316, 317, Edinb. 8vo, 1820. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 253 long before it accomplished this, it effected what was much more important, a complete change in the tone and spirit of men. Such was at that time the sudden audacity of the French intellect, that feelings and prejudices which from their extreme antiquity seemed to form a necessary part of the human mind were in a moment rooted up and destroyed. Unhappily this great work was towards its close defaced by a cruel spirit of revenge. But in its early stage, when the intellectual revolution was nearly completed, and before the political revolution had begun, there was accom- plished for philosophic history in the short space of two gene- rations more than had yet been done from the earliest com- mencement of written records. Not only were views originated far more comprehensive than any which had yet been put forward, but several branches of knowledge which are indispensable to history were suddenly developed, and began to take their stand in the rank of sciences. Political economy, statistics, juris- prudence, physiology, and several branches of metaphysics were studied with such success that many of their laws were for the first time satisfactorily established. Nor was this great movement confined to a single nation. There were indeed, as I shall en- deavour to explain, some circumstances which prevented it from producing much effect in England, from whence it had, in its mildest form, originally proceeded ; but in other countries it caused very important results. In Italy it gave rise to a great school, from which Europe has learned some of its most valuable lessons in the science of jurisprudence. Its greatest effects were, however, produced in Germany, where it rescued a whole people from the depths of superstition, and enabled them to rear up that wonderful literature to which, as we shall presently see, the intel- lectual regeneration of Europe is in no small degree to be ascribed. It may be easily supposed that in this great field of inquiry which we are now about to enter, I shall not be able to preserve that conciseness to which I have hitherto carefully adhered. The grandeur with which, in the eyes of all thinking men, the eighteenth century is naturally invested, has stimulated me to a more than ordinary diligence, and I should be doing justice neither to myself nor to my readers if I were to suppress too many of the materials which have suggested those views that will form the basis of the future volumes of this history. As it is possible that some of these views may be considered original, and as it is, 254 FRAGMENTS I fear, certain that many of them will give offence, I have deemed it right to fortify them by every description of evidence which study and reflection enable me to supply. If, therefore, anyone is inclined to be offended by the variety of topics into which I have entered, or by the number and length of the notes, he will, I trust, have the candour to ascribe them, not to a pedantic desire of dis- playing my own reading, nor to the wish of diverging upon matters which are alien to the object of this work. I can say, with the most perfect confidence, that my only anxiety has been to state with fairness the grounds upon which my opinions have been formed, in order that if they are wrong, they may be the more easily refuted, and that if they are right, they may be the more readily believed. I should not have made this remark if I had not observed in this country of late years a growing disposi- tion on the part of authors to conceal the immediate sources of their information, and a corresponding disposition on the part of critics to form their opinions with great rapidity, and to content themselves on many subjects of difficulty and importance with the most meagre and imperfect evidence. The first and most important peculiarity of the great historians of the eighteenth century is the view which they took of subjects connected with religion. Not only did they enforce by every means in their power the great principle of toleration, but they pushed it to so extreme a point that even at the present day many enlightened men have found occasion to blame their conduct. The five writers to whose genius we owe the first attempt at comprehensive views of history were Bolingbroke, Montesquieu, Voltaire, Hume, and Gibbon. l Of these, the second was but a cold believer in Christianity, if, indeed, he believed in it at all ; and the other four were avowed and notorious infidels. Nor were they content with preserving what they would have considered a philosophic indifference upon so important a subject. Hume, indeed, whose fine, clear but cold mind seemed incapable of enthusiasm, always kept his attacks upon Revelation within those limits which the decencies of the age seemed to require. But Montesquieu, during a considerable part of his life, and Voltaire and Gibbon during the whole of their lives, never cared to conceal their opinions, and employed all their energies in 1 Vico, indeed, attempted to show the way, but he made no attempt to apply principles. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 255 attacking Christianity with every weapon which their learning and genius could supply. This has always appeared to me to suggest some very important considerations. That he who believes Christianity to be false should endeavour to expose its errors, is but fair and natural. Nor would anyone properly instructed in the real principles of toleration attempt to interfere with so undoubted a right. But that men of genius and learning and great benevolence should hate and ridicule a religion which, whether true or false, is certainly the mildest and most beneficent that has been yet seen in the world; that, not content with arguing, they should jibe and jeer at a system on which alone millions of their countrymen repose all their hopes of a future life ; that these things should be publicly done, is at first sight so utterly incomprehensible as to suggest a suspicion either that the authors were professing principles which they did not entertain, or else that the merits of their personal character must have been grossly exaggerated. And yet, so far is this from being true, that it is certain from their private correspondence that their dislike to Christianity was even stronger than that which they expressed in their works. And it is as certain that all of them were beloved by those who knew them, and were of the warmest and most kindly affections. We have full and undoubted evi- dence that Voltaire, who was by far the most scurrilous of these great writers, was a man of the most lively sensibility, that he passed his long life in acts of unwearied benevolence, that he was the friend of the oppressed and the father of the orphan, and that he even squandered a large income on acts of private and unostentatious charity. Unless therefore we are prepared to believe that men remarkable for their abilities and their virtues were governed by the most criminal and contemptible caprice, we must refer their conduct to some general principle which in- fluenced them in their own despite, and which gave to their works that appearance with which many of us are so justly offended. What that principle was, I will now endeavour to explain, with the aid of such lights as history will enable me to supply. It may, I think, be laid down as a law of the human mind that in every country where religious toleration is established, scepti- cism must In the eighteenth century our own literature first assumed its 256 FRAGMENTS popular character and formed a part of the intellectual polity of Europe. Then, too, the literature of Denmark arose, in 1720, tinder Holberg. 1 In law, Beccaria, Bentham, Anquetil Du Perron, Sonnerat, and Genht studied the laws of the Brahmins. Egypt explored by Bruce, Arabia by Volney. Cook and Bougainville explored the world. Now it was that the great brotherhood of nations became Icnit together in one polity. Before Lord Hardwicke, international law was scarcely known in England. 2 Bunsen 3 says, ' No school of Coptic theology was instituted till the beginning of the eighteenth century. . . . The founder was David Wilkins, who published the New Testament at Oxford (1716), and the Penta- teuch (1730).' The Rosetta stone was discovered in I799. 4 Since Young and Champollion the only discoverers in hieroglyphics are Lepsius and Leemans. 5 Bunsen says, 'Sylvester de Sacy, that great man who brought Arabic philology, neglected since the time of Reiske, to its true historical position.' Until the eighteenth century there was no history, and in England the people only knew history from ballads. It was in the eighteenth century that medicine, the most im- portant of all the arts, was first able to throw off those super- stitious fancies which had long impeded its progress. At the end of the century there was put forward that great undulatory theory of light which in the opinion of an eminently competent [authority] is hardly inferior to Newton's discovery of universal gravitation. The influence of French literature was even slightly felt in Spain. Although the power of the clergy was one of the proximate causes of the backward state of history, facility of belief was the primary one ; and I have shown from speculative arguments that this was also the cause of intolerance. I will now prove the same thing historically, and show that as scepticism advanced toleration did, and does of necessity increase. This I shall prove in French history; and first I will give condensed evidence in English history. The people must diminish their inordinate confidence in government and clergy, i.e., inquire in politics, and religion, and before inquiring doubt. Here, then, we have the starting i See Laing's Denmark, p. 355. 2 Storey's Conflict of Laws, p. 12. 5 Egypt, vol. i. p. 260. 4 Ibid. pp. 309, 310. 5 Ibid. pp. 332, 333. 6 Ibid. p. 315. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 257 point of progress scepticism. I broadly assert that there is no progressive principle except the increasing experience of man- kind, which stores up practical truths which, being generalised, become scientific truths. All, therefore, that men want, is no hindrance from their political and religious rulers. But the absence of hindrance can only be caused by pressure from without, hence the first step is scepticism. Until common minds doubt respecting religion they can never receive any new scientific con- clusion at variance with it, as Joshua and Copernicus. Civilization depends on knowing the future, which can only be done by the intellect. When men are left alone, each succeeding generation first perceives more facts, and then discovers more relations or laws. If government will only be quiet, increasing experience will suggest increasing thought. The main point in history to which everything else is subordinate is to trace the course of the human intellect, and the way the ignorant and selfish ruling classes have tampered with it. A writer of considerable reputation, Warton, draws a strange distinction between history and philosophy. 1 The absurdity of talking about the descendants of Japhet and the Gomerites has been continued in England to our own time ; which is the more remarkable, for even in 1771 it was exposed by Schlozer in his Allgemeine Geschichte. 2 There is too much truth in Mr. Blackwell's generalisation that in matters of knowledge ' the Germans are nearly half a century in advance of us.' In the meantime comparative philology, from which we have already been able to make many remarkable discoveries, was for the first time cultivated. The learned men of the seventeenth century, the Vossiuses, the Scaligers, and the Casaubons were mere pedants without any idea of the psychological importance of their subject. Indeed, the first great step in European philology was made in 1770 by Percy, a writer of considerable miscel- laneous knowledge and acuteness, but by no means remarkable for his learning. He, however, was, I believe, the first who showed that there was a fundamental difference between the two great families of European languages, the Teutonic and the Celtic. One of the most eminent historians of that age, the celebrated 1 Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. i. p. cxciii. 2 Blackwell's note in Mallet's Northern Antiquities, Lond. 1847, P- 26. VOL. I. S 25 8 FRAGMENTS Robertson, though totally ignorant of the German language, un- dertook to write the history of a German emperor. A celebrated traveller, who had also a good deal of reading, talks familiarly about the descendants of Shem and Japhet. l A writer of extensive reading says, but without quoting any authority, that the theories of Wolf and Niebuhr were antici- pated in the Scienza Nuova of Vico ; but that ' neither of them certainly knew anything of that work.' 2 Another stimulus to the philosophy of history was the increase of materials. The study of Sanscrit opened to our view the treasures of Brahmanical lore and the subtleties of the Veda and the Puranas. The study of Pali, and later of Tibetan, gave us the theology of Buddhism. The energy of a single man the noble-minded Du Perron opened the Zendavesta and the reli- gion of Zoroaster. The accounts of travellers brought before us a strange state of society. The results of the contact of the Ger- man mind were soon seen in the rise of a larger and more com- prehensive method of treating history. Without entering into prolonged details, I may mention some instances in which this spirit is very apparent, such as the great subjects of the feudal system, the middle ages considered as a whole, &c. I. The new school certainly produced no man at all compar- able in knowledge or in general powers to Blackstone, still less to Montesquieu. And yet both these writers, having occasion to inquire at great length into the feudal system, were so misled by the contracted spirit of their time, as to consider this wonderful institution as entirely the result of the Germanic invasions. The extreme inadequacy of the cause did not in the least startle them, and subsequent authors were content to repeat their confident assertions. It was reserved for a young Scotchman of fine genius, and himself one of the earliest students of German literature, to expose this singular error. Sir Walter Scott was, I believe, the first in Europe, and certainly the first in this country, to subject the feudal system to anything like a philosophic analysis. He not only pointed out in an essay the similarity between many of the feudal phenomena and those found in Asiatic countries, but he even attempted to trace them all to general causes. 1 Clarke's Travels, vol. ix. p. 41, Lond. 1824. 3 Keightley, On the Resemblance and Transmission of Tales and Fictions, Lond. 1834, p. 18. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 259 Schiller, perhaps the most eloquent and popular of all the German writers, wrote in 1788 an elaborate history of the revolt of the Netherlands ; but he openly avows his ignorance of the Dutch language, and, mistaking the mere form of history for its spirit, seems to think that he will have done sufficient if he amuses the reader by an artistic arrangement of striking events. (Before the account of the ignorance of the middle ages in the eighteenth century put the following.) That foolish veneration for antiquity so characteristic of the seventeenth century had now generally subsided ; but, unfortu- nately, it was replaced by a not less foolish contempt. Because one generation admired the past too much, the next generation admired it too little. The real value and the matchless beauty of the classic literature soon rescued it from this passing contempt. But the middle ages had no such recommendation, and they were now despised by every writer who affected to be raised above the level of his time. It was in vain that men of unrivalled know- ledge brought before the world their history and their literature. It was in vain that Muratori, Maffei, Ducange, Bouquet, and the Benedictines of France published gigantic folios which hardly anybody bought, and which nobody read. The treasures of learn- ing, accumulated by these modest and useful men, were spurned aside in that sceptical and audacious age. Those who were con- sidered to be the great historians of the day, spoke and wrote of the middle ages with wild and ignorant presumption. After giving an account of the rise of Political Economy, &c., and their divergence, I may preface my account of Germany as follows : While these great branches of knowledge were thus isolating themselves into comparative insignificance, there were springing up a race of men who, neglecting the mere details of inquiry, were attempting, by great efforts of general reasoning, to discover the laws to which all knowledge is itself subject. Voltaire declared that the history of the middle ages deserved to be written as little as did the history of bears and wolves. In France, at the head of financial affairs, was Law, a Scotch- man of great ability, whose schemes were received rather by the fickleness of the Regent than by their own imperfections. La- vallee, I think inaccurately, accuses Law of having confused [credit?] and money, and of supposing that by increasing the 260 FRAGMENTS circulating medium of the country he necessarily increased its wealth. * I think that Butler was almost the only Englishman who in the eighteenth century adopted a larger creed of ethics than La Rochefoucault. In England, Toland, Tindal, Collins, Chubb, Mandeville, and even Shaftesbury and Bolingbroke, were no match for men like Warburton, Waterland, Lardner, and Clarke. Before Gibbon, the only Englishman who took a comprehensive view of history was Bolingbroke^ an avowed Deist. All the pedants of England com- bined to write the Universal History. ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION. FERGUSON insists on the importance of investigating history in- ductively. 2 But, after all, Ferguson's book is very poor. The illustrations are all of the tritest character, and indeed, in point of learning, the whole work might have been written by a clever schoolboy. Ferguson rejects the theory of a cycle in history ; that is, he opposes those who talk of the necessary decay of society. 3 He supposes 4 that one cause of decay is that, from caprice, nations become tired of practising the arts, &c. This of course is absurd ; but another cause which he mentions 5 over-division of labour must have been very efficacious, though I suspect he got it from Adam Smith. He says, 6 ' From the tendency of these reflections, then, it should appear that a national spirit is frequently transient, not on account of any incurable distemper in the nature of man- kind, but on account of their voluntary neglect and corruptions.' Ferguson enthusiastically says, 7 'When I recollect what the President Montesquieu has written, I am at a loss to tell why I should treat of human affairs.' Then we had also Tindal's wretched history. If during the first half of the eighteenth century we compare the historic literature of France and England, it will be hardly possible to 1 Lavallee, Histoire des Francais, tome iii. p. 393. 2 See Ferguson's Essay on the History of Civil Society, Lond. 1768, pp. 3-4, and for his attack on the opinions of Rousseau, pp. 7, 8, 12. 3 Ibid. pp. 346, 347, 391. 4 Ibid. p. 350. 5 Ibid. p. 362. 6 ibjd. p. 372. 7 Ferguson's Essay on the History of Civil Society, Lond. 1768, p. 106. ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION i6l conceive a greater contrast. In the one country, the finest geniuses of the age Montesquieu, Voltaire were engaged in the successful cultivation of what our ancestors seemed to consider too trifling a pursuit to occupy the attention of superior minds. In England, men of the dullest intellects and of the meanest ac- quirements busied themselves with writing history, because history was supposed to be the only thing which they were able to write. It is not too much to assert that during this period all the English historians who were not totally ignorant of their subject were at best but zealous antiquaries, who collected facts which they did not know how to use, and who were as inferior to the great French authors as the mason who carries the materials is inferior to the architect who schemes the edifice. Carte, for example, was a man of great industry, and, until the appearance of Dr. Lingard, his work was the best history of England which had been published. But so contracted was his mind that he thought it necessary to enter into a long examination of the important question of touching for the king's evil, a prerogative well known to be peculiar to the Lord's anointed. Carte, after considering at great length this difficult question, modestly asserted that God had not granted to our Hanoverian kings the power of miraculously curing the scrofula, but that He had allowed that power to remain in the hands of the Pretender. 1 The discussion of this trumpery super- stition was considered so important that it excited in England a storm of angry controversy, and this at the very moment when the great historians of France were actively employed in purifying their literature from the remains of bigotry by which it was still encumbered. Besides Carte's, the only celebrated history of Eng- land was that of Rapin, an author now only to be found in the libraries of country gentlemen, who believe him to be honest because they know him to be dull. Indeed, to say the truth, his dulness, intolerable as it is, is the smallest of his faults. Even when men of genius wrote history, they seemed suddenly to have lost their powers. Goldsmith is certainly one of the most delight- ful of all our writers. But no sooner did he sit down to his histories of Greece and Rome, than he seemed to be suddenly smitten with an incurable dulness. Ancient history was in the hands of Leland and Mitford. 1 Carte did not discuss this question. I think he does not deny the power of touching of George II., but only says that the Pretender had it. [Author's note.] 262 FRAGMENTS On the history of foreign countries our literature was, if pos- sible, still more deficient. The first thing that strikes us is the extreme presumption of men who supposed that they could under- stand the history of a people of whose literature, and, indeed, of whose speech they were perfectly ignorant. Thus there is Dr. Harte, who, though entirely unacquainted with the Swedish language, wrote a well-known history of the greatest of the Swedish kings ; and it is remarkable that his work, dull and inaccurate as it is, still remains the best life of Gustavus Adolphus that has yet been published in this country. Johnson, the most celebrated, and, in some respects, the most able critic of the day, declared that the best history extant was Knolles' History of the Turks, which had appeared a century before his time. And yet the work of Knolles is not only disfigured by a pompous and inflated style ; but the author, though writing the adventures of a powerful East- ern people, did not feel himself called upon to study any of the Eastern tongues except the Hebrew, a language which, except for the philologist, is of no possible importance, and the scanty literature of which has always displayed a marked deficiency in historical productions. As the eighteenth century advanced, there seemed little likeli- hood of a change for the better. Indeed, the immense increase of the national wealth, which was almost entirely owing to a successful application of the physical sciences to the economy of manufactures, 1 tended still further to lessen the interest which men felt in the moral sciences. It was natural that the wonderful inventions of Arkwright, Watt, &c., and the immense fortunes by which in most cases the inventors were rewarded, should diminish the reputation of those still higher branches of knowledge from which no such results were to be expected. Even Political Economy, which in a mercantile country ought to find the most successful cultivators, was in England entirely neglected, and the 1 The South Sea Company was the first proof of the desire of wealth. Navigable canals were first constructed by Brindley, an engineer of original genius, employed by the Duke of Bridgewater ; and they were at the end of the eighteenth century greatly improved by Telford. In 1763, Wedgwood made his remarkable improvements in the manufacture of earthenware. In 1774, the first steam engine of Watt was exhibited at the Soho Works, near Birmingham, under the auspices of Boulton ; and in a single mine in Cornwall the saving of coals was so large, that the proprietors agreed to pay 8oo/. a year for the use of each engine. These steam engines greatly increased the productive- ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION 263 greatest statesman of the eighteenth century declared that he never could understand Smith's Wealth of Nations. If this was the case with a science which has only to do with the accumula- tion and distribution of wealth, we may well imagine that those sciences of which the utility is less evident would fare still worse. In Ethics, we did not produce during the whole of the eighteenth century one original writer. In Psychology we were equally deficient, for Berkeley, the author of perhaps the most important discovery that has ever been made in that noble science, was born in Ireland, lived in Ireland, and died in Ireland. In Esthetics, the only work of the least merit was by Burke, who was also an Irishman, 1 whose ingenious but imperfect Essay was the work of a very young man (he was only twenty-six when he wrote on what is, after ethics, the most obscure branch of metaphysics) ; nor did this great writer ever after think it worth his while to return to so unprofitable a subject. 2 The consequence was that the English mind seemed gradually hardening itself to everything except the accumulation of wealth and the acquisition of military power. The German literature, which at a later period did so much to correct ness of the Cornwall tin mines, and tended also to the improvement and extension of coal mines. The spinning-jenny, invented by Hargreaves in 1764, was in operation before 1768. In 1771, Arkwright ' erected the first spinning mill worked by water power.' In 1776, the mule-jenny of Crompton combined the spinning-jenny of Har- greaves and the water power of Arkwright At the end of the reign of George II. the Taylors effected the first great im- provement in the manufacture of blocks for the rigging of ships. The travels in England of Saint Fond contain some curious details respecting arts and manufactures in the latter half of the eighteenth century. They are often quoted in the Pictorial History of England. Just before the French Revolution, Cartwright invented a machine for combing wool, by which there was effected a wonderful saving of labour. In Pictorial History of England, vol. vii. p. 714, reference is made to an esti- mate by Sir Frederick Eden, in Annals of Commerce, vol. iv. pp. 548, 550, ac- cording to which the value of ' machinery, such as steam-engines, spinning works,' &c., was in England 4o,ooo,ooo/. In the middle of the reign of George II., Harrison, by combining different metals in the pendulum, and by other contrivances, constructed chronometers of such accuracy as greatly to lessen the risk of sea voyages. These improvements were followed up by Thomas Mudge, who, in 1774, completed the first chronometer. See M'Culloch's Commercial Dictionary, article Hardware. 1 But Reynolds and Payne Knight. [Author's note. ] z Burke did intend to continue metaphysics, but his noble mind became empirical. [Author's note.] 264 FRAGMENTS this evil state, was then only in the first dawn of its splendour, and had not yet gained any reputation. The French literature, as I have already described, had after the middle of the eighteenth century begun to deteriorate, and was losing every year some- thing of that influence which it had formerly possessed. But happily there had for some time been forming in a long-neglected country a school which did much to restore to England a higher tone of thought, and which soon produced the happiest effect upon the study of history. As this movement is one of great im- portance in the history of the human mind, and as we are still reaping the benefit of it, I shall not scruple to examine it at con- siderable length. In literature the supreme chief was Johnson, a man of some learning and great acuteness, but overflowing with prejudice and bigotry. The little metaphysical literature which we did possess went on deteriorating at each stage of its progress from Hartley to Priestley, and from Priestley to Darwin. While the wretched work of De Lolme on the English Constitution was read with avidity, the profound and yet practical inquiries of Hume were almost neglected. In ecclesiastical literature, the most prominent names were Warburton the bully and Hurd the sneak. When the Duchess of Marlborough wished a life to be written of her cele- brated husband, whose genius had changed the face of Europe, she could find no one more competent than Mallet, a miserable adventurer who lived by plundering the booksellers and cheating the public. And yet this man, whom the French would hardly have thought worthy of dusting the manuscripts of one of their great historians, was in England a very considerable person, and actually received i,ooo/. for promising to write the history of those great events by which France had been suddenly degraded from the pinnacle of her military fame. In 1776 Hume writes to Gibbon, ' But among many other marks of decline, the prevalence of superstition in England prognosticates the fall of philosophy and decay of taste.' l And in the same year he writes to Adam Smith in a similar strain. 2 The fear entertained of the French Revolution gave an influence to such women as Hannah More, and they tended still further to depress our literature. Mrs. Montague's wretched Dissertation on Shakespeare was considered 1 Burton's Life of Hume, vol. ii. p. 485. 2 Ibid. p. 487. ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION 265 a masterpiece of criticism. In 1785, Beattie writes to Arbuthnot that Mrs. Montague's Essay on Shakespeare is ' one of the best, most original, and most elegant pieces of criticism in our language or in any other.' 1 We produced no historian. Gibbon indeed was an exception, but he was a Frenchman in everything except the accident of his birth. His early studies were carried on in Switzerland, in the house of a French Calvinist. His first work was written in the French language, which for many years was more familiar to him than his own tongue. His first literary correspondence was with Crevier, a well-known professor in the University of Paris. The whole of his great history was composed abroad, while his mind was influenced by the associations and traditions of foreign society, and he only visited England at such intervals as were necessary to make arrangements for its publication. When, after having wasted several years on the formation of projects which were never accomplished, he at length began to write the history of the Roman Empire, he still retained his old habits. Rousseau's Prize Discourse before the Academy of Dijon was translated into English in 1751, and accompanied with an absurd preface by Bowyer, which is reprinted in Nichols's Literary Anec- dotes of the Eighteenth Century, vol. ii. pp. 226, 227. In 1771 there was translated into English Millet's wretched History of England. 2 It might have been expected that we should have brought from Asia some of those great treasures of learning which even now have by no means been thoroughly explored. But such was the want of energy, that, although we possessed a settlement in India since early in the seventeenth century, it was not until near the end of the eighteenth that Sanscrit was first studied in England, and during one hundred and fifty years of our dominion there were only to be found in the whole of the East India Company two persons acquainted with the Chinese language. While France, with scarcely any intercourse with China, had es- tablished a Chinese professorship in Paris, our own Government, intent on nothing but wealth and military power, had not taken a single step in that direction. The history of the Papacy is a great and important subject. The only history of the Popes was that of the wretched Bower, a 1 Forbes's Life of Beattie. Lond. 1824, vol. ii. p. 164. - Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 347. 266 FRAGMENTS liar and a swindler, who apostatised from the Church of Rome. While such was the state of bigotry little could be expected, and it is a melancholy consideration that the only great historian we produced in the eighteenth century was Gibbon, a notorious Deist. On the question of the Regency in 1788, Parr gravely writes, * What is meant by the word " right " ? Look into Burlamaque, and there you will find a clear, sound, metaphysical explanation ; in conformity to which I maintain the Prince's "right"' &C. 1 In 1787, Burke writes to Parr, 'If we have any priority over our neighbours, it is in no small measure owing to the early care we take with respect to a classical education.' 2 The most celebrated Whig historian was Mrs. Macaulay, a foolish and restless democrat, and while she was still alive, Dr. Wilson erected in the chancel of St Stephen's, Walbrook, a statue to her. In Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, vol. viii. p. 54, there is a very severe but accurate criticism on Leland's History of Ireland, which was published in 1 773. It may in some degree be esteemed a misfortune that so great a man as Bacon should have flourished when the sciences were still in their infancy, and were therefore unable to supply him with an instance of the triumphs of Deduction. The ancient philosophy had been in the habit of laying down general principles, and then treating them as if they were laws, without sufficiently attending to the process of verification, by which alone their truth could be ascertained. The real merit of Bacon was to have shown the impropriety of this, and not to have pointed out induction, which must always have been practised from the remotest antiquity. But at the same time he committed a serious error. He supposed that scientific knowledge was only to be acquired inductively, that is to say, that we must proceed from the lowest to the highest generali- sations. This, as Mill well says, was the consequence of the backward state of the sciences. 3 To this I may add that in Scot- land and Germany there was no great man before the sciences were advanced, hence the method became deductive and this was also aided by the fact that sensualism made no head here. But in France Descartes, and afterwards Condillac, insured the reputation of induction : for it is quite a mistake to oppose Des- cartes to Bacon ; both were inductive, and Descartes did for metaphysics exactly what Bacon did for physics. 1 Johnstone's Life of Parr, Lond. 1829, vol. i. p. 330. 2 Ibid. p. 200. 3 Mill's Logic, 2nd edit., 8vo, 1846, vol. ii. pp. 531, 532. ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION 267 Davis received a pension from the Crown for his wretched attack on Gibbon. 1 George III., a mean and ignorant man, did everything in his power to ruin literature by patronising it. But happily he had neither the wealth nor the power of Louis XIV. It is a curious instance of the gross ignorance of political economy, even in the nineteenth century, that Christian, Chief Justice of Ely, [?] in his notes to so respectable a book as Blackstone's Commentaries, should think it necessary formally to refute the assertion that our national debt increased our wealth. 2 Blackstone himself 3 thought it a ' very good regulation ' to authorise the justices at sessions to fix the rate of wages ; and he thinks * that marriages should be encouraged. As to our laws at the end of the eighteenth century, their bigotry and their cruelty are too well known. Warburton thought little of Milton. In 1776, Dr. Kampe, a learned physician, wrote in favour of alchemy. Mr. Stephens's medicine for gout was popular. In 1771 the celebrated Fox writes to George Selwyn, ' I am reading Clarendon, but scarcely get on faster than you did with your Charles the Fifth. I think the style bad, and that he has a good deal of the old woman in his way of thinking, but hate the opposite party so much that it gives me a kind of partiality for him.' 5 In a note Jesse says, 'This is a very curious passage from the pen of Charles Fox.' Priestley, whose mind was admirably adapted for physical in- quiries, insisted on becoming a metaphysician, and introducing into morals and psychology his empirical method. Warburton was, I think, the founder of that new school which considers history in a large point of view. He denied the argu- ment of Middleton that the similarity of Popish and pagan ceremonies was an evidence that the first was derived from the other ; and he referred such similarity to similar conditions of human nature. See his two letters to Lyttleton, dated October and November 1741, printed in Phillimore's Memoirs and Cor- respondence of Lord Lyttleton, 8vo, 1845, vol. i. pp. 163-175. For the foolish notions of Johnson about history, and in favour of Knolles' History of the Turks, see the Rambler, No. 122. 1 See the note in Walpole Letters, 8vo, 1840, voL vi. pp. 30, 41. * Blackstone's Commentaries, 8vo, 1809, vol. i. p. 328. 3 Ibid. p. 427. 4 Blackstone's Commentaries, Lond. 1809, vol. i. p. 438. 5 Jesse's Selwyn and his Contemporaries, vol. iii. p. n. 268 FRAGMENTS (Dryden, in the preface to his Translation of Plutarch, complains that the English had no historians.) Soon after the middle of the eighteenth century, the writer who was respected as the greatest living historian was Lord Lyt- tleton, whose History of Henry II. was published in 1764. To this work, which was the labour of thirty years, it would be unfair to deny the praise of considerable research. But this is all that can be possibly said in its favour. The materials are so ill-arranged, and the style is so insufferably prolix, that it is now never looked into except by those who read for the purpose of writing, and who amid so much dross hope to find a little gold. The author him- self was a man of some industry, but of a narrow and superstitious mind. Of his public life but little is known, and that little is very unfavourable. In politics it is now only remembered that he was the friend of an ignorant and dissolute prince, whom nothing but an accident prevented from ascending the throne of England ; that during several years he directed all his efforts against Walpole and Chatham, who were beyond all comparison the greatest states- men of his time ; and that when his ambition was rewarded by receiving an appointment in the Exchequer, his incapacity was so notorious as to raise a report that this manager of finance was un- acquainted with the common rules of arithmetic. In theology, in which, according to the measure of that age, he was considered to make a figure, he is only remembered as the author of an Essay on the Conversion of St. Paul, a lame and ill-reasoned work, in which the greatest men are treated with contempt. From such a man as this it would be idle to expect anything like a great con- ception of history. Indeed, his opinion was that, in the writings of Bolingbroke and Warburton, history had reached the highest point of perfection which it was capable of attaining. (Then give instances of Littleton's incapacity.) These instances, which it would be easy to multiply, will give the reader some idea of what in those days was considered a masterpiece of historic composition. This was the writer in whose favour Hume and Adam Smith were rejected ; and this was the work which Bishop Warburton whose mere opinion was fame declared to be unrivalled since the time of Clarendon. Perhaps Burke abandoned his metaphysical pursuits in obedi- ence to the foolish prejudice that an abstract thinker is unfit to be a statesman. In 1785 the celebrated caricaturist, Sawyer, ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION 269 published a print of him which is entitled Burke on the Sublime and Beautiful. 1 'The celebrated Anti-Jacobin was established in the latter part of November 1797.'* For Grecian history we had the wretched production of Mitford, who attempted to use ancient history as the means of defending his own political prejudices. The sensualist philosophy, though it has, I think, more truth in it than the idealist, has by its prevalence in England caused one great detriment It has aided the Baconian system by making men bigoted to induction, and the progress of what may be called our economic civilization has further aided this. (J. S. Mill is the only sensualist whose mind has been large enough to escape this.) Cousin 3 quotes Lord Bacon to the effect that it is absurd to observe the mind. See also Cousin's contemptuous notice of Bacon's metaphysical efforts. 4 Descartes was never popular in England. His physical errors, his theory of vortices, &c., were not calculated to inspire confidence in his method. What Cousin says of the eighteenth century in general is particularly true of England : ' Le XVIII 6 siecle a generalise 1'analyse. La philosophic, devenue plus scrupuleuse encore par le faux pas du Cartesianisme, s'est empresse'e de re- doubler de circonspection.' 5 When at length, in the progress of civilization, some attention began to be paid to the philosophy of the mind, the method of Bacon was followed by Hobbes and Locke, who said that we knew nothing except by the senses. At the end of the seventeenth century there was, indeed, a faint attempt made by Cudworth and Clarke to erect an ideal school. But empiricism soon became again supreme, and its method was carried out by Tooke ; but in the nineteenth century Donaldson, taught by the German school, introduced a better method. (More, the Platonist, was deductive.) The success of Gibbon's history, immense as it was, could not protect the author from the attacks of ignorant and bigoted men. Bishop Newton, in his Life of himself, makes some insolent remarks on Gibbon, to which the great historian admirably replies. 6 Gibbon printed his history in I787- 7 Voltaire, who was in England 1 Wright's England under the House of Hanover, Lond. 1848, vol. ii. p. 126. J Ibid. p. 282. 3 Histoire de la Philosophic, 2 nl< seYie, tome ii. p. 69. 4 Ibid. p. 72. 5 Histoire de la Philosophic, Part II., tome ii. p. 75. 6 See Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, Lond. 1837, pp. ici, 102. 7 Ibid. p. 107. 270 FRAGMENTS in 1726, says of Bacon, ' Aujourd'hui les Anglais reverent sa memoire ail point qu'a peine avouent-ils qu'il a t& coupable,' i.e. of bribery, &c. l This is like Basil Montague. Voltaire 2 has some admirable remarks on our absurd compilation, The Universal History, which show the immense superiority of his own historical views. Bacon directed a too exclusive attention to externals. This benefited us theologically, but in a more advanced state of know- ledge it has injured us scientifically. Archdeacon Hare 3 says that if Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester, had ' been born in the twelfth century, no man would have been more zealous in kin- dling fires to consume the Waldenses. 5 In England, Puritanism, as I shall have occasion to show, has left the clearest traces of its presence. Its influence, by encouraging accumulation, has greatly increased the national wealth, but until the present century it has corrupted philosophy with its own mechanical and prosaic spirit. It is probable that the dislike to speculation would have become fainter as the power of Puritanism declined ; but it was fostered by what we, in the present unformed state of our knowledge, must, I suppose, call an accidental event. Towards the end of the seventeenth century, perhaps the most wonderful genius that has ever been seen began to dazzle Europe with a continual succes- sion of the most amazing discoveries. In the course of a few years Sir Isaac Newton changed the surface of physical science. It was natural that the intellect of Europe intoxicated, and as it were bribed, by his unprecedented success, should have supposed that his method of investigation was of universal applicability. In England this erroneous notion was particularly conspicuous, and it gave rise to a low empirical practical spirit, the injurious effects of which are, as I shall show in another place, apparent in nearly the whole of our literature during the eighteenth century. It was not to be expected, while men looked at morals as they looked at matter, and thought like ethics and chemistry, [?] that they would be able to make any discoveries of real and permanent value ; and during one entire century we did not produce a single great man. The powers of Hume, indeed, were great, and if he had possessed learning there can be no doubt that he would have 1 Lettre XII. sur les Anglais in CEuvres de Voltaire, tome xxvi. p. 58. 2 Fragments sur 1'Histoire, CEuvres, tome xxvii. p. 160. 3 The Mission of the Comforter, Lond. 1850, p. 271. ENGLAND FOR INTRODUCTION 271 effected great things. The only writer is Gibbon a man of the most surprising reading, of great sagacity, and of matchless inte- grity, but if I may state my opinion of a genius incomparably inferior to that of Hume. Niebuhr, at the end of the eighteenth century, visited London, well supplied with introductions from his father, the celebrated traveller ; and although greatly prepossessed before his arrival in favour of the English, he could not conceal his surprise at the narrow views of our most eminent men. Hallam says l that Burnet's History of the Reformation is the first history in English ' which is fortified by a large appendix of documents.' Daniel published in 1618 a History of England. 2 Bacon, the great sceptical philosopher, was the first who wrote history. Then we have Herbert's History of Henry VIII. He, too, was a sceptic. Coleridge 3 notices the deficiencies of Mitford ; but the suggestions he offers would hardly improve him. Even Coleridge, in his Lectures, gravely traces mankind from Shem, Ham, and Japhet. 4 The formation of the Royal Society encouraged our too inductive tendencies. It was the opinion of Bishop Warburton that the absurd speculations of Stukely would ' be esteemed by posterity as certain, and continue as uncontroverted as Harvey's discovery of the circulation.' 5 The proposals for Carter's History were at first munificently welcomed by subscription (see Nichols's Literary Illustrations, vol. v. p. 159). Wesley 6 says, Lord Herbert of Cherbury is ' the author of the first system of Deism that ever was published in England.' In England physical science not only drew off men from history, but gave them a wrong pattern to write it by. They said that in physics external and visible phenomena were everything, and they fancied the same held good in history. They did not know that the most important facts in history are invisible. The external world is governed by acts, the internal world by opinions. In physics actions produce their effects whether they are known or not ; in history they only produce their effects // they are known. Every great historical revolution has been preceded by 1 Literature of Europe, voL iii. p. 595. J Ibid. p. 149. 3 Literary Remains, vol. i. p. 153. 4 Ibid. pp. 69, 70. 5 Nichols's Literary Illustrations of the Eighteenth Century, vol. ii. p. 57. See also, at vol. iii. p. 682, an absurd eulogy of Speed. 6 Journal, p. 682. 2/2 FRAGMENTS a corresponding intellectual revolution. The first edition of Speed's History of Great Britain was published not'm 1614, but in I6H. 1 Lingard very unfairly quotes MS. authorities, which no one but his own party can see. One of these was an important Life of Lord Arundel ; and when the Camden Society offered to publish it, the late Duke of Norfolk refused 'for reasons arising out of the character of certain facts of the narrative.' ' 2 Our English historians continue to quote, as a picture of England in the middle of the sixteenth century, Harrison's description pre- faced to Holinshed ; but this is said, by no less an authority than Hearne, to be copied from Leland. 3 Coleridge, after Ha.lla.rn had written, calls Sharon Turner ' the most honest of our English historians, and with no superior in industry and research.' 4 Archdeacon Echard, in his History, tells a story, which he gravely defended, of Cromwell selling himself to the devil. 5 Gibbon filled the chasm between the ancient and modern world. Indeed, so notorious was our want of historical power, that when in 1766 a miserable adventurer named Champigny issued in London a prospectus for publishing a history of England numerous sub- scriptions were attracted, but the history never appeared. Gold- smith as an historian had the carelessness of Hume without his genius ; and yet when the Royal Academy was instituted, he was appointed Professor of History. Even Johnson, so slow in praising, declared that not only as a comic writer, but even as an historian, 'he stands in the first class.' In 1757 Burke published part of his English History. 6 Such was the poverty of our historians that in the middle of the eighteenth century the elder Pitt could find no better historians to recommend to his nephew than Bolingbroke, Rapin, and Witwood. Ockley's History of the Saracens is fabulous. 7 Sir William Temple gravely says that Paolo's great work, a History of the Council of Tren f , cannot properly be called a his- tory ; and yet Temple had been engaged in public affairs, and wrote a book on the history of England, which in value is equal 1 See Ellis, Original Letters of Literary Men. Camden Society, pp. 108, 109. 3 Ibid. p. 114. 3 Ibid. p. 355. 4 Coleridge on Church and State, p. 61. 5 See Calamy's Own Life, Lond. 1829, vol. ii. p. 399. 6 Prior's Life of Burke, p. 45. 7 See note in Hallam's Middle Ages, vol. i. p. 479. 273 to Mrs. Trimmer or Lord Lyttleton. Sir Thomas Browne l says that Rycaut's History added to Knollys, is ' one of the best his- tories that we have in English.' Browne says that history has only to do with memory, and poetry with imagination. In 1743, Ralph was 'esteemed one of the best political writers in Eng- land.' 2 Burke had large views of history. 3 Guthrie wrote on history. We were taunted by foreigners with not writing history. Sir J. Reynolds 4 takes it for granted that 'the historian takes great liberties with fact, in order to interest his readers and make his narrative more delightful.' Alison says, 5 ' Till the era of the peninsular war, when a cluster of gifted spirits arose, there are no writers on English affairs at all comparable to the great historical authors of the continent.' I have not been able to learn the name of these ' gifted spirits ' to whom Mr. Alison alludes. We have had no history of English literature no history of English science no history of England that is to say, of the English people except the compilation Pictorial History of England. Gothe, in his autobiography, complains bitterly of the labour he wasted on that dull book, Bower's History of the Popes. 6 Sir R. Walpole said there could be no truth in history. 7 Coxe, in his Life of Sir R. Walpole, takes no notice of Walpole's second mar- riage to his mistress, Miss Skerrit ; and in the same spirit Coxe never mentions Walpole's secret message to the Pretender in 1739, though he had the very letter in his possession. 8 INFLUENCE OF GERMAN LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. SHELLEY was born in 1792, and even when at Eton began to study German. 9 Medwin adds 10 that when Shelley first went to Oxford, ' Gothe was only known by the Sorrows of Werther, and Canning and Frere had in the Anti-Jacobin thrown ridicule on the poetry of that country which they hated. Indeed, the spirit 1 Works, vol. i. p. 272. * Life of Franklin, by Himself, vol. i. p. 245. 3 See Burke's Works, vol. ii. p. 275, and Rogers's Introduction to Burke's Works, pp. Ixii, Ixiii. * Ibid. p. 308. 5 History of Europe, vol. i. p. xxii. 6 Wahrheit und Dichtung in Gothe's Werke, band ii. theil ii. p. 45. 7 Parliamentary History, voL xxvii. p. 600. 8 Mahon's History of England, vol. ii. p. 263 ; vol. iii. p. 23. 9 See Medwin's Life of Shelley, Lond. 1847, vol. i. p. 45. 10 Ibid. p. 60. VOL. I. T 274 FRAGMENTS of his ^Esthetics has somewhat, though not so much, of the daring- of Schiller.' Medwin then gives 1 some parallel instances from Schiller and Shelley, the former in German. Shelley had a very small library ; but among his books were the works of Gothe and Schiller. 2 Medwin says, 3 ' Shelley showed me a treatise he had written of some length on the Life of Christ, and which Mrs. Shel- ley should give to the world. In this work he differs little from Paulus, Strauss, and the rationalists of Germany.' Shelley made some translations from Faust, of which ' Gothe expressed his entire approbation.' 4 Not even the disturbed state of Europe could now prevent men from satisfying their curiosity. In 1800, Campbell visited Germany, in order to study its language, with which, however, he seems to have had some small acquaintance before he left England. He attempted to understand Kant, and, though he failed in this, he studied the writings of Schiller, Wie- land, and Burger ; and there is great reason to believe that his beautiful poem of Gertrude oi Wyoming owes its origin to one of the German novels of La Fontaine. At all events, it is certain that the first idea of the erection of the London University sprung up in the mind of Campbell, when he was conversing with the German professors and noticing the system of German education. Early in the nineteenth century, Sir John Sinclair sent his son into Germany to learn German ; and the young man was arrested on the charge of being a spy in 1806, and brought before Napo- leon. 5 In 1814, Mrs. Grant writes of Wordsworth's Excursion, ' His piety has too much of what is called Pantheism, or the worship of nature, in it. This is a kind of German piety too ; they look to the sun, moon, and flowers for what they should find in the Bible.' 6 In vol. ii. of Blanco White's Life of Himself, 8vo, 1845, there are several letters from Mr. White to Mr. J. S. Mill, respecting the Westminster Review, to which White was a con- tributor. In 1799, Wordsworth and his highly-gifted sister went abroad, in order to learn German ; and in 1 803 he borrowed from a cele- brated German poem the stanza he employed in his exquisite 1 Medwin's Life of Shelley, Lend. 1847, vol. i. p. 278. 8 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 31. 5 Ibid. p. 50. * Ibid. p. 267. 5 Sinclair's Correspondence, Lond. 1831, vol. i. pp. 43, 44, 6 Memoirs and Correspondence of Mrs. Grant of Laggan, Lond. 1844, vol. ii. P- 59- INFLUENCE OF GERMAN LITERATURE IN ENGLAND 275 ballad of Ellen Invin. With Coleridge, who was still more inti- mately acquainted with German literature, Wordsworth had a long and intimate friendship, and he must have been greatly influenced by him. In 1804, Sir James Mackintosh first began carefully to study German, of which he already had some slight knowledge ; and in 1805 he writes that he will not begin his intended work upon morals until he has matured its philosophy. Miss Smith, who was dead in 1811, translated Klopstock's Letters. The German school arose at Edinburgh, where the fanatical party had never been able to dispossess the philosophic. This was natural. The country and not towns is the place for bigotry. The German school was introduced by the Scotch, and by those who had not had an university education. The highest branches of German literature were, I think, first studied by Mackintosh and Cole- ridge, who exercised more influence by their conversation than by their writings. In 1781, William Taylor, then very young, went into Germany to learn German. He, before the end of the eighteenth century, published several translations from the German, and, what was more important, he, with indefatigable industry, familiarised the English mind through reviews with the opinions of many eminent Germans. He published translations from Lessing in 1791 ; from Gothe in 1793; from Gleim in 1794; from Burger in 1796; and the influence of his example was so great that early in the nine- teenth century a literary society was formed at Norwich, where he lived, of which one of the chief objects was the study of German. Unfortunately, Taylor, though a man of most undoubted ability, had but little taste for metaphysics, and consequently little know- ledge of them. This caused him almost entirely to neglect the highest branches of German literature in favour of its lighter branches. But this deficiency was soon compensated by the studies of two of the most remarkable men of the present century Mackintosh and Coleridge. Coleridge in 1799 projected a Life of Lessing. In 1799, Walker writes that the Royal Irish Academy had issued a gold medal to the author of the best essay on German literature. 1 Gibbon, in enumerating the classes of works in his own library, 1 Pinkerton Correspondence, Lond. 1830, vol. ii. pp. 61, 62. Was this Essay published ? T2 FRAGMENTS says nothing of German. 1 Little was known about the middle ages until the German influence made us study them. Even Gibbon calls the sixteenth century a period when the 'world awaking from a sleep of a thousand years,' &c. 2 Dugald Stewart had no notion of German, and was so ignorant as to despise Kant The influence of Coleridge's conversations was even greater than that of his writings. There is no doubt that Coleridge, with great carelessness, copied long passages from Schelling without making the least acknowledgment. 3 As to the charge of intentional plagiarism, which some English reviewers have brought against him, no one will believe for a moment that a man like Coleridge was capable of such things. If they do believe, they may see 4 what Schelling himself thought of the matter. Coleridge began to study German in i"jg6. 6 On the influence of German literature on Sir Walter Scott's poetry, see Gillies' Memoirs of a Literary Veteran, 8vo, 1851, vol. i. pp. 226, 227. Gillies adds, vol. ii. pp. 222-227, tnat even in 1817 there was only one person in Edinburgh who could teach German, and he was an Englishman. In 1799, Niebuhr writes from Edinburgh that German was much studied there. 'In this place especially, a great number are learning German.' 6 In 1799 Coleridge was at Gottingen. 7 ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. DURING the whole of the eighteenth century the Scotch literature produced scarcely any effect upon England. The only great his- torical work which we produced was that by Gibbon, of which the first volume was published in 1776. The author as might have been expected was a sceptic, and was intimately acquainted with the two greatest Scotchmen of his time, Adam Smith and Hume. . . . Johnson despised Hume and Adam Smith, and, I think, Robertson. Cousin says that Price, who just after the middle of the eighteenth century revived the Platonic idealism of Cudworth, is almost the only idealist that England produced in 1 See Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, Lond. 1837, p. 323. - Ibid. p. 447. 5 See Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, Lond. 1847, vol. i. pp. vii, ix, 255. 4 Ibid. p. xxxviii. s Ibid. vol. ii. p. 364. 6 Life and Letters of Niebuhr, Lond. 8vo, 1852, vol. i. p. 137 ; see also p. 138. 7 See the Friend, vol. i. p. 39. ENGLISH LITERATURE IN NINETEENTH CENTURY the eighteenth century. 1 Swedenborg, during his residence in England, must have done much to encourage idealism. Lord Shaftesbury had, I think, been one of the very few who in Eng- land followed the deductive method. See the flattering opinion expressed of him in Cousin. 2 Lord Brougham says that the great Fox possessed 'a minute and profound knowledge of modern languages.' 3 It is said, though I know not on what authority, that even the infamous Marat taught French in Edinburgh about I774. 4 In 1830 we are told that in Scotland 'there is no gentle- man of liberal education' who had not read the Wealth of Nations. 8 In 1783, Hutton published the Theory of the Earth; and its views were adopted by Professor Playfair. 6 Sir James Mackintosh says of Brown's philosophy, 'It is an open revolt against the authority of Reid ; ' 7 he accuses Brown of supposing that he had made a discovery when he reduced Hume's principle of association to the one principle of con- tiguity. 8 The German school rose at Edinburgh, where the last remains of the philosophical party had fled. They were always strong there, and when in 1773, the chair of Professor of Natural and Experi- mental Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh was offered to Beattie, he refused to accept it on account of the dislike which he knew was felt for him there. 9 . . . The Quarterly Review, which was a mere bookseller's specu- lation, was begun in 1809, and of the nature of its authors some idea may be formed from the circumstance that Sir John Barrow, a painstaking and meritorious man, but certainly of no remark- able powers, was one of the chief contributors, and, indeed, wrote in it upwards of one hundred and ninety different articles. Mr. Prescott 10 has some able remarks upon the nature and progress of history, but evidently has not the least idea of it as 1 Cousin, Histoire de la Philosophic, II mc serie, tome iii. p. 10. 1 Ibid, premiere s^rie, tome iv. pp. 7, 8, 13. s Brougham's Historical Sketches of Statesmen, vol. i. pp. 218, 219, Lond. i8mo, 1845. 4 Ibid. vol. v. p. 131. 5 Bower's History of the University of Edinburgh, vol. iii. p. 181. Ibid. p. 253. 7 Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy, edit Whewell, p. 345. 8 Ibid, p.* 347. 9 Forbes's Life f Beattie, vol. i. pp. 292-313. 10 Biographical and Critical Miscellanies, Lond. 1845, pp. 77-94. 378 FRAGMENTS a. science. He says, 1 'The personage by whom the present laws of historic composition may be said to have been first arranged into a regular system was Voltaire.' And 2 he strangely says of Gibbon, 'He was, moreover, deeply versed in geography, chro- nology, antiquities, verbal criticism ; in short, in all the sciences in any way subsidiary to his art.' This is equivalent to saying that moral and economical sciences are not subsidiary to history. Mr. Prescott says, perhaps too strongly, ' The same extended phi- losophy which Montesquieu initiated in civil history, Madame de Stael has carried into literary.' 3 Respecting the dispute between Fearn and Stewart from 1818 to 1827, see Barker's Parriana, voL i. pp. 556-622. Fearn's own theory was that 'perceived extension and figure, when perceived, are demonstrated to be states or affections of the perceiving mind itself, and when not perceived are nowhere, that is, have no ex- istence whatever ; ' and that, ' consequently, we have no evidence for the existence of dead matter in the world.' 4 But his quarrel with Dugald Stewart stands thus. In 1812, Fearn stated that ' a variety of colour is necessary for the perception of visible outline,' 5 which discovery Stewart mentioned as a known fact, without stating Fearn's name. 6 On the other hand, Stewart says it is mentioned by several authors, but he only quotes Lord Mon- boddo, who, however, does not say anything of the sort. 7 The beginning of a sounder philosophy is shown by Brown, who lessens the number of original principles. Thus he reduces the laws of association to one. Damiron strangely says that Brown has added nothing to Dugald Stewart. In the nineteenth century there was a general intellectual revival. Southey, in 1837, notices that this was the case in poetry. An increased love of the middle ages sprung up. At the end of the eighteenth century Hayley and Darwin were our greatest poets. The first Editor of the Quarterly Review was Gifford, a learned but peevish and narrow-minded man. There is an extremely severe, but I should think not unjust character of Gifford in Leigh Hunt's Autobiography. 8 He says 9 that Gif- 1 Biographical and Critical Miscellanies, Lond. 1845, p. 84. 2 Ibid. p. 90. 5 Ibid. p. 424. * Barker's Parriana, vol. i. p. 568. 5 Ibid. p. 598. * Ibid. p. 590. ? ibid, pp, 292, 599, 614. 8 Leigh Hunt's Autobiography, Lond. 1850, vol. ii. pp. 81-92. * * Ibid. p. 87. ENGLISH LITERATURE IN NINETEENTH CENTURY 279 ford had 'not a particle of genius.' Lord Byron seduced Miss Clara C , ' a near connection, not, as Mr. Moore says, a near relative of Mrs. Shelley.' l Medwin adds 2 that Miss C. was in consequence brought to bed, and 'some foul and infamously calumnious slander relating to this accouchement gave rise to the dark insinuations afterwards thrown out in the Quarterly Review by the writer of the critique on the revolt of Islam.' In 1818 this article was published in the Quarterly, and seen by Shelley, who was then at Florence. It was on his I^aon and Cythna, now 'better known as the Revolt of Islam.' 3 Medwin truly adds 4 of the Quarterly, that it is 'a Review, be it here said, that has always endeavoured to crush rising talent never done justice to one individual whose opinions did not square with its own in religion or politics.' Medwin 5 says that the attack on Shelley ' in the April number ' of the Quarterly (Is this the article be- fore referred to?) was written by Milman. The effect of this attack on Shelley was terrible. In 1802, Campbell was engaged in writing the 'Annals of Great Britain,' which he considered a degrading occupation. ' Such,' says his friend and biographer, ' was his apprehension of losing caste by descending from the province of lofty rhyme to that of mere historical compilation, that he bound his employers to secrecy, and did not wish the fact to be known even among his intimate friends.' 6 One of the greatest and most valuable characteristics of Hal- lam is scepticism. Sydney Smith used, with pleasant good nature, to ridicule this scepticism in Hallam. 7 Campbell gives an account of a conversation he had with Schlegel in 1814, which will illus- trate the rage for induction. He says, 'I in vain endeavoured to vindicate that since the time of Lord Bacon the method in philosophy pointed out by that great man had been very properly pursued in England, which was to collect particular truths, and then combine them into general principles or conclusions.' 8 It is not, therefore, surprising that in 1813, Campbell should 1 Medwin's Life of Shelley, Lend. 1847, vol. i. p. 280. 2 Ibid. p. 284. 5 Ibid. p. 357. * Ibid. pp. 357, 358. 5 Ibid. p. 360. 6 Beattie's Life and Letters of Campbell, Lond. 1849, vol. i. p. 414. See also vol. ii. p. 19. 7 See an amusing anecdote of this in Beattie's Life of Campbell, vol. iii. p. 315. * Beattie's Life and Letters of Campbell, vol. ii. p. 262. 280 FRAGMENTS say of Reid, ' He in the moral world has always seemed to me to be of the same order of minds as Newton in material philo- sophy.' ! In 1819, .Mrs. Grant writes from Edinburgh that 'all the wits ' in Blackwood's Magazine are ' from the west of Scot- land.' She mentions John Lockhart, Thomas Hamilton, John Wilson, and Robert Sym. 2 In the same year, 1819, she writes 3 that Blackwood ' is supported by a club of young wits,' many of whom are well known to me ; who I hope in some measure fear God, but certainly do not regard man. Four thousand of this cruelly witty magazine are sold in a month.' After the death of Gifford, the Quarterly Review fell into the hands of Mr. Lockhart, a gentleman valued by his friends, but who has- never displaced powers to justify an attempt to direct the public taste. He is no doubt well intentioned, but the Review has be- come very bigoted, and if it had influence, would be very danger- ous. Mrs. Grant, who was personally well acquainted with Sir Walter Scott, says of his work on Demonology, ' I was amused at Sir Walter's caution in keeping so entirely clear of the second sight ; like myself, I am pretty confident he has a glimmering belief of, though not the same courage to own it' 4 At the end of the eighteenth century there was no good poetry, nor was there any taste for it. In 1798 were published Words- worth's Lyrical Ballads, which were received with coldness, and indeed were scarcely noticed. Early in the nineteenth century various circumstances, hereafter to be treated, had almost com- pleted the amalgamation of the Scotch and English. This was aided by the extreme bitterness with which party politics were managed. The question no longer was put whether a man was Scotch or English, but whether he was Whig or Tory. Scott, moved by a personal pique, joined the Quarterly, and Southey hated the Scotch provided they were Whigs. In 1812, Pinkerton having a desire to settle at Edinburgh, Young writes to dissuade him ; for, he says, ' I know of no literary situations in Scotland which do not in a manner appertain to the clergy and professors who have the eyes of a hawk for them.' 5 Pinkerton's great scheme for editing our national historians 1 Beattie' Life and Letters of Campbell, vol. ii. p. 227. 3 Correspondence of Mis. Grant of Laggan, Lond. 1844, vol. ii. pp. 223, 224. 3 Ibid. p. 236. 4 ibid. p. 187. 5 Pinkerton's Literary Correspondence, Lond. 1830, vol. ii. p. 403. ENGLISH LITERATURE IN NINETEENTH CENTURY 28 1 was in 1814 addressed by him to the Prince Regent, but that virtuous prince appears not even to have returned an answer. 1 For a specimen of the infamous falsehoods of the Anti-Jacobin in 1798, see note in Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, 1847, vol. i. pp. 65, 66. The Edinburgh Review has been blamed for the bitter language it has sometimes employed. 2 This charge is not devoid of truth, but we should remember that this journal had to oppose [writers] most of whom were impervious to reasoning, and could only be reached by ridicule. Such writers as Hannah More and John Styles could feel the lash, though they could not understand the argument. The influence of the German litera- ture was soon seen. Even Hume had put in an appendix his account of our laws, and in the text the vices of kings and ministers. But Hallam now put forward his great work on Con- stitutional History, in which the philosophy of Hume is combined with a learning far superior to that of Blackstone. Alison's ideas of history are perfectly childish. 3 There are some extremely interesting remarks in Tocqueville's Democratic en Ame"rique. 4 He says that the English hate gene- ralisation ; the French love it ; and that this arises from their aristocratic prejudices which narrow their notions, though their knowledge of itself would make them generalise. But now that the old English government is falling to pieces, there is growing up -an increased love of generalisation. For when classes are very unequal it is difficult for the mind to bring them in the same field so as to cover them by one law. But in a democracy it is more evident that the truths applicable to one are applicable to all. Besides this there is in a democracy no obviously moving power, and therefore men can only explain social changes by generalisation from the general will. And Tocqueville 5 observes, ' Les historiens qui ecrivent dans les siecles aristocratiques font dependre d'ordinaire tous les evenements de la volontd particu- liere et de Fhumeur de certains hommes, et ils rattachent volon- tiers aux moindres accidents les revolutions les plus importantes.' Lord Mahon, a Tory who thinks we have [been] ruined by the reform bill, takes the most superficial view of history, and even 1 Pinkerton's Literary Correspondence, Lond. 1830, vol. ii. p. 456. 1 See, for instance, Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, vol. ii. pp. 117, 128. 3 See Alison's History of Europe, vol. i. pp. xxix, 3, 171. 4 Tome iv. pp. 23, 27. 5 Ibid. p. 133. 282 FRAGMENTS talks of its dignity. With the exception of what he says about the Methodists, and a superficial account of literature, he tells nothing worth remembering ; no account of manners, or of com- forts of the people, or wages, or mode of living, &c. l Humboldt * speaks with the greatest contempt of Pinkerton's geographical knowledge. GEORGE III. OF these leading and conspicuous events, the American War was the earliest ; and for several years it almost entirely absorbed the attention of English politicians. It is well known that upon the question of taxation, on which this contest entirely hinged, the opinions of the greatest statesmen of the eighteenth century were unanimous. Sir R. Walpole, Lord Chatham, Burke, Fox, Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, the Marquis of Rockingham, the Duke of Grafton, were all agreed respecting the absurdity of taxing colonies which had no representatives in the English legislature ; and to this most of these celebrated men, moreover, added that, under such circumstances, the mother country had no right to tax. Such were the first fruits of the policy of George III. But the mischief did not stop there. The opinions which it was necessary to advocate in order to justify this innovation, reacted upon our- selves. In order to defend the attempt to destroy the liberties of America, principles were laid down which, if carried out, would have subverted the liberties of England. Before the struggle ac- tually began, and while it was in progress, doctrines were heard in the English parliament hardly less mischievous than those for which Charles I. had lost his head. It was even proposed in 1773 to contract the constituencies. 3 In Brougham's Political Philosophy 4 it is said that in 1765 the pretension of taxing America was first put forward. 5 In 1765, 1 See Mahon's History of England, Lond. 1853, vol. i. pp. 46, 181, 182, 296 ; vol. ii. pp. 24, 29, 138. 210 et seq., 235 ; voL iii. pp. 89, 270, 357. 2 Humboldt, La Nouvelle Espagne, tome i. p. 145. 3 Chatham Correspondence, voL iv. p. 280. 4 Part III. p. 328. 5 Nichols, Literary Anecdotes, vol. viii. p. 62. GEORGE III. 283 Grenville proposed the resolutions preliminary to the Stamp Act 'This famous bill, little understood even at that time, was less attended to.' ' Such was the ignorance of the House of Commons that this great measure attracted no notice! In 1779 the king would have no minister who would not sign a declaration that America should never be independent. 2 Even Lord North was unwilling to continue the war. 3 In 1777, Markham, archbishop of York, attacked the revolution of i688 4 ; and this very man was tutor to the Prince of Wales. 5 Lord Lyttleton declared that the king was the vicegerent of God. In 1769, Lord North denied the right of the people to petition for a dissolution of Parliament. Jenkinson, the minister (?), said that the authority of the House of Commons did not depend on the people. In 1770 it was held that the king's prerogative was sufficient to support government. When the people peti- tioned against the monstrous decision respecting Wilkes, Rigby .said that such petitions were not to be regarded; for that even the freeholders themselves were, for the most part, 'no better than an ignorant multitude.' Lord North contemptuously called the petitioners ' the multitude ' ; they were ' the drunken raga- muffins of a vociferous mob.' They were ' rustics and mechanics' ; they were ' ignorant' ; they were ' drunken ' ; they had been taught, 'in the jollity of their drunkenness, to cry out that they were undone.' The petitions themselves were ' treasonable.' The petitioners were 'a few factious, discontented people'; they were ' the rabble' ; they were ' the base born' ; they were ' the scum of the earth'; and because the magistrates of the City of London joined the petitioners against the minister, they were denounced by the attorney-general, who, in the House of Commons, called one of them 'an ignorant mayor,' another 'a turbulent alderman.' The rights of the City of London were ' paltry corporation charters ' ; ' little chartered grant of a city.' (This was because the magistrates interfered with privilege of parliament.) Of many petitions the king took no notice; and to some presented by the City of Ixmdon he returned what Lord Chatham declared in parliament to be an answer, for the harshness of which our history afforded 1 Walpole's Mem. of George III., vol. ii. p. 68. * Russell, Mem. of Fox, voL i. pp. 236, 237. 3 Ibid. pp. 247, 254. 4 See Parliamentary History, vol. xix. p. 327. 5 See Walpole's Mem. of George III., vol. iv. p. 311. 284 FRAGMENTS no parallel. In 1769, the freeholders of Middlesex who returned Wilkes were called ' the scum of the earth.' These were the principles which in the reign of George III. it was hoped to impress upon the English nation. Nor were they intended for mere maxims to amuse the leisure of speculative men. It cannot indeed be denied that there then existed in our country all the political elements necessary to put them into execution. The throne was filled by an arbitrary and active prince. The House of Lords, as we have already seen, soon lost that love of liberty by which it had once been characterised ; and the House of Commons, so far from being a popular assembly, was almost entirely constructed by three classes of men, none of whom were likely to have much sympathy with the popular interests. These were men of great wealth, which was then illiberal, being rarely made in commerce officers of the revenue, &c., appointed by Government and men of great family or county interests. The consequence was that, with extremely few exceptions, it was hardly possible for anyone to be a member of the House of Commons unless he had a fortune sufficiently large to enable him to buy a seat, or a spirit mean enough to wheedle one. On such a composition as this, arbitrary principles could hardly fail to produce their effect, and what gave them fresh strength was the French Revolution. The first open step of the king was an attempt to ruin those Whig nobles who, though too full of the vanity of their order, had done much for the country. 1 The House of Commons denied to the people the right of electing their own representatives.' 2 1 In 1763, General A'Court was deprived of his regiment because he voted in favour of Wilkes. In 1762, the Duke of Newcastle, the Duke of Grafton, and the Marquis of Rockingham were dismissed from Lord Lieutenancies. The Duke of Devonshire, in 1762, was personally insulted by the King. ... In 1762, one of the leaders of the Whigs, the Duke of Devonshire, was so offended by the new policy that he resigned the office of Lord Chamberlain ; a few days after this the King in council struck off his name from the list. In 1765, General Conway, Parl. History, vol. xvi. p. 45 ; Burke's Works, vol. i. p. 109. In 1767, the Whig Duke of Portland was robbed. Cooke, Hist, of Party, vol. iii. p. 103 ; Adolphus, George III., vol. i. pp. 307, 310; Parl. Hist. vol. xvi. p. 406; vol. xvii. pp. i, 16, 302, 304, 307; Walpole's Mem. of George III., vol. iii. pp. 143, 146. The dismissal of Conway was the more shameful, for William III. refused to dismiss an officer under similar circumstances. See Mahon's England, vol. ii. pp. 173, 174, where the quotation is wrong ; for it ought to be Parl. Hist. vol. ix. p. 312, and not p. 132, and see vol. xi. p. 1105. - In [1769 ?] the House of Commons, in [the] case of Wilkes, disfranchised a GEORGE III. 285 Owing to these things, and owing to absurd laws (46 George III.), wages greatly fell, 1 and the people were ripe for re- bellion. H. Walpole says, 2 ' On March 1 1, 1 768, the Parlia- ment was dissolved. Thus ended that Parliament, uniform in nothing but its obedience to the Crown.' 3 Such was the state of the government and legislature of England when the French Revolution suddenly broke loose on the world, and now it was that we felt the full effects of that political retrogression which I have attempted to trace. An event more fortunate for that party which was then in the ascendant could not possibly have occurred. The fact that a great people had risen against their oppressors could not fail to disquiet the consciences of those in high places. The remains of that old faction which supported Charles I. and wished to retain James II. were now kindled into activity. A new courage was infused into those creeping things which the corruption of the state is sure to nourish into life. The clergy, who had aided the king in the American war, were also very active in this new and still more serious error. The clergy excited a drunken mob to attack Priestley, and obliged that great man to emigrate to America, although his private character was spotless. 4 The Rev. Mr. Jones shows very amusingly his bitter hatred of Priestley. See Jones's Life of Bishop Home, Lond. 1795, pp. 141, 145. In 1790, in consequence of the French Revolution, 'the High Church party' revived. Parl. History, xxviii. 394. See at whole county, and assuming the functions of electors as well as [of] elected, con- stituents, and representatives, they opposed the people from whom their power was derived. The King personally hated Wilkes. See Walpole's Mem. of George III., vol. iii. pp. 200, 256. In 1785, the Marquis of Carmarthen and the Earl of Pem- broke were deprived of their Lord Lieutenancies ; the first, because he favoured the York petition ; the other, for his votes in Parliament Parl. Hist vol. xxi. pp. 212, 219, 220. It is said (Parl. Hist. vol. xxviii. p. 515) that when Onslow was Speaker he was obliged to resign because he gave a casting vote against Govern- ment. In 1782 (or 1783), the King used his personal influence with the Peers to induce them to vote against his own ministers. Burke's Works, voL i. pp. 308, 309 ; Parl. Hist vol. xxiv. p. 207. In 1763, Lord Temple, because he was the friend of Wilkes, was dismissed from his post of Lord Lieutenant of Buckingham. 1 Hallam, vol. ii. p. 446. -' Mem. of George III., voL iii. p. 163. 3 Pitt admitted the decline of usages. Parl. Hist. vol. xxxii. p. 705. 4 See Adolphus, Hist, of George III., vol. v. pp. 71, 119, and Parl. Hist. vol. xxix. pp. 774, 775, 1378, 1397- ^434. 1435- 1437. and pp. 1450, 1451, 1453, 1457, 1512. 286 FRAGMENTS p. 399 the interference of Horsley, bishop of St. David's in 1789 to throw out a candidate for Parliament who wished to repeal the Test Acts. In 1787, the clergy were greatly alarmed at the effort to repeal the Test Acts (Parl. Hist. xxvi. 822). The French Revolution was just like the American Revolution, with the exception that the provocation being greater the crimes were greater. And both were opposed in England by the same men men who grow rich and fatten on the public distress. In 1792, Captain Gauler was dismissed because he belonged to the Society for Constitutional Information (Parl. Hist. xxx. 172). In 1793, 'Reeves' Association at the Crown and Anchor' received anonymous letters, and acted on them (Parl. Hist, xxx 313). There now rose a war the most monstrous that can possibly be conceived, a war in which we attempted to dictate to a great people, not their external policy, but their internal government. No wonder the French still burn with hatred against us. All the selfishness of the most selfish class, the greediness of wealth, the fears of rank, were stimulated into a new and preternatural activity. In 1795 the people desired peace (Parl. Hist. xxxi. 1347). Comte l truly says that the war with France would have ruined us if it had not been for the increase of our wealth by Watt's steam discovery. And now it was that the consequences of a war raised by the aristocracy were averted by the genius and energy of the middle classes, whose activity had been stimulated by scepticism. The most contemptible and the meanest artifices were em- ployed by the agents of the Government. They declared that French emissaries had poisoned with arsenic the water of the New River. The Traitorous Correspondence Bill was brought forward in 1793. For Fox's opinion of it, see Parl. Hist. xxx. 600, 634; Treasonable Practices Bill in 1795, xxxii. 246, 498, xxxiii. 615 ; in 1795, the Seditious Meetings Bill, xxxii. 275, 419. Read these three Bills in Statute Book. These scandalous measures, in spite of the strenuous opposition of the people, became law, and were put into vigorous operation, so that Fox truly said, in 1795, and even before this monstrous system reached its height, resistance was only a question of prudence. 2 The end of my view of tyranny must be that Fox, who had been minister and was minister again, gave it as his deliberate 1 Trait de Legislation, tome iii. p. 298. 2 Parl. Hist. vol. xxxii. p. 383, and compare vol. xxxiii. p. 576. REACTION IN ENGLAND IN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 287 opinion that the time had now come when resistance was only a matter of prudence. While by an insane war the funds out of which wages are paid were diminishing, the claimants of wages were increasing, partly by the spread of poverty, which compelled even respectable men to become labourers, and partly from laws to stimulate population and supply troops for the field. By these and similar measures the country before the end of the eighteenth century fell to the brink of ruin. Wages fell, corn rose, dis- content spread, country drained of specie, a run on the bank, the fleet mutinied at the Nore, the funds fell to 47. These were the effects on the material interests of the country. The effects on its political interests, and on the liberty of its inhabitants, were still more alarming. Our wealth was saved by the applica- tion of science to manufactures ; our liberties were secured by the same energy being carried into politics. REACTION IN ENGLAND LATE IN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. THE loss of America, which in France assisted liberal opinions, in England damaged them. By our gross injustice we lost America. See in Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vi. 104, a striking account of the disgraceful pleasure with which the Privy Coun- cillors listened to the infamous speech of Loughborough against Franklin. The injudicious, and in some respects criminal, coali- tion between Fox and North ruined the Whigs, and strengthened the hands of the retrogressive party. The king, by his insensate bigotry, nearly lost us Ireland. Quote Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vi. 281. Even Lord Campbell admits that in 1792- 1793, the liberties of England were in danger, and of this he gives some strong instances in Lives of the Chancellors, vi. 243, 251, 252, 448, 449. This was done by the king and Pitt, aided by an apostate Chancellor. Campbell (vi. 244, 255) ascribes the greatest share in these infamous prosecutions to Lord Lough- borough (see vil 105). Directly after the death of Pitt, Fox was made minister, and Erskine, whose matchless eloquence had roused the English juries, was made chancellor. 1 While the prosecutions in 1793-1794 were going on, it was seen how 1 Campbell, vol. vi. pp. 526, 527. 288 FRAGMENTS superior the people were to their rulers. This was the result of education. In 1806 the Whigs abolished the slave-trade, and this was 'the great glory of the Fox and Grenville administra- tion.' J In 1807, their leader in the Commons brought in a Bill to allow Roman Catholic officers in England to hold commissions In the army ; but at this George III. was so angry that not only were ministers obliged to withdraw the Bill, but the king called on them for a written promise ' never again to propose any measure for further relaxing the penal laws against the Roman Catholics,' which they refusing to do were dismissed. 2 In 1808, the Attorney-General, Sir Vicary Gibbs, carried a Bill to enable him to arrest anyone 'against whom he had filed an ex offirio information for a libel,' which, ' though it still disgraces the Statute-Book, certainly no attorney-general since his time has ever thought of putting in force.' 3 In 1811, the Prince Regent ^continues the Tory ministers in office.' 4 In 1812, 'Lord Liverpool, certainly one of the dullest of men, was now prime minister.' 5 In 1817, 1818, 1819, 1820, most stringent acts were passed against the people. 6 In 1807, 'a parliament was chosen in which the Whigs were not much more numerous than when they were vainly struggling against the ascendency of Pitt.' 7 In 1808, the Tories carried a monstrous bill to prevent the ex- portation to the enemy of Jesuit's Bark. 8 In defiance of the whole authority of the executive government and the combined power of both Houses of Parliament, the English people protected an English queen against that bad man who sought to punish as crimes those levities which his own vices had provoked. In 1806 'the elections went strongly in favour of the Whigs.' 9 Lord Campbell 10 says that in 1807 ' the nominal head of the govern- ment was the Duke of Portland, never a very vigorous statesman, and now enfeebled by age and disease.' Lord Eldon, a man in his own field of immense learning, but ignorant of even such political science as was then known even Lord Eldon would not defend the infamous 'Jesuit's Bark Bill' in 1808, though of course he voted for it. 11 In 1809, proceedings for corruption against the 1 Campbell, vol. vi. p. 560. 2 Ibid. pp. 562, 563, 564. See the original letters on this in Fetter's Life of Sidmouth, vol. ii. pp. 451-465. 3 Ibid. pp. 576, 577. * Ibid. p. 585. 6 Ibid. p. 598. 6 Ibid. pp. 609, 610. 7 Ibid. p. 573. 8 Ibid. p. 574. 9 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 189. 10 Ibid. p. 210. n Ibid. pp. 213, 214. REACTION IX ENGLAND IN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 289 Duke of York. 1 George, directly he became Regent in 1812, renounced the Whigs. 2 After the death of Pitt, the crown, and for a long time a great majority of the legislature, struggled in vain against the advancing intelligence of the English people. Cooke 3 well says that Pitt was guilty of a coalition as bad as that of Fox and North. Indeed he was so very popular because he was looked upon in 1783 as an ultra Whig. 4 It was in 1787, and therefore before the French Revolution, that Pitt, on the question of the Corporation and Test Acts, first abandoned the cause of toleration. 5 At the end of the eighteenth century we were saved by juries. Cooke 6 says, 'When the minister attempted to prosecute his political opponents to the death, it became necessary to adduce evidence before an audience less tractable than a House of Commons.' Cooke 7 says that the charges against the duke of York encouraged the general belief of corruption. Even Wilberforce, the intimate friend and great admirer of Pitt, separated from him in politics on account of his going to war in I793, 8 and because he moved an amendment on this subject in the Commons the King with characteristic bitter- ness took no notice of him at the next levee. 9 Wilberforce 10 ascribes the war to the influence Dundas had on Pitt. Wilber- force 11 was very dissatisfied with the improper letter which in 1800 Lord Grenville wrote when Buonaparte applied for peace. In 1803, the French hated the English. 12 Pitt, in 1803, patrioti- cally aided Fox in turning out the incompetent Addington. l3 In 1805 Pitt, though not a friend of Dundas, unflinchingly defended him, 14 and even quarrelled with Addington's party on the subject. 15 In 1804, such was the unsupportable arrogance of the English ministry that even countries which had not suffered from France wished us to be beaten. 16 A dangerous, or at all events a threat- ening, reaction took place of ascetic religion, headed not only by such persons as Hannah More, but also even by Wilberforce. This methodistic movement Sydney Smith, and in 1808 the Edin- 1 Campbell, vol. vii. p. 214. * Ibid. p. 266. 5 History of Party, vol. iii. pp. 332, 334. * Ibid. pp. 341, 342. 5 Ibid. p. 358. u Ibid. p. 427. 7 Ibid. p. 470. 8 See Life of Wilberforce, vol. iii. p. 16. 9 Ibid. p. 72. 10 Ibid. p. 391. n Ibid. vol. ii. p. 354. 1? Ibid. vol. iii. p. 89. 15 Ibid. p. 142. 14 Ibid. pp. 217, 219, 220. 15 See Fetter's Life of Sidmouth, vol. ii, pp. 368, 374. 16 Life of Wilberforce, vol. iii. pp. 243, 244. VOL. I. U 290 FRAGMENTS burgh Review, sensibly checked. 1 The war was persevered in by Pitt, in spite of the better judgment of the people. In 1796, 'the war was now becoming universally unpopular.' 2 In 1803, ' all are distrustful of the duke of York's military talents.' 3 In 1812^ Wilberforce was apprehensive that the Church should be injured if it did not display an activity in education greater than the Methodists did. In 1794, administration was tempered by Whigs. 4 In 1794, Addington, on occasion of Hardy's trial, complains of ' Erskine's strange doctrine upon the law of treason.' 5 Compare this with Lord Campbell's eulogy. In 1796, general desire for peace. 6 On the danger to Ireland in 1796, see Fetter's Life of Sidmouth, vol i. p. 174, 220. In 1797, the mutiny at the Nore had also spread to an extent not generally known at Plymouth. 7 Immense taxes. 8 It is certain from Pitt's own account that Lord Grenville's letter in 1800 was written as an European manifesto, and with the desire of continuing the war? There can be no doubt that even if Pitt had not died nothing could have saved his ministry. 10 Happily for the fortunes of England that great intellectual movement which I have already described had diffused among the middle classes an increased desire for liberty. A very few years after the accession of George III. the first public meetings were held. Then came associations for parliamentary reform. We were benefited by the government being headed by men of such notorious incapacity as Addington and Liverpool. BAD POINTS UNDER GEORGE III. NEARLY LOST IRELAND BIGOTRY. IT is often said that the court of George III. was very simple and paternal, but setting aside the unkind treatment of Miss Burney, even Mrs. Siddons, when reading before the queen, was obliged to stand till she nearly fainted. 1 Life of Wilberforce, vol. iii. p. 364 ; see also vol. iv. p. 290, and vol. v. p. 47. * Ibid. vol. ii. p. 169. 5 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 120. * Fetter's Life of Lord Sidmouth, vol. i. p. 120. 5 Ibid. p. 132. 6 Ibid. p. 162 ; vol. ii. p. 2. 7 Ibid. vol. i, p. 190. 8 Ibid. vol. i. pp. 197, 358 ; vol. ii. pp. 47. 9 Ibid. vol. i. p. 247, 248, 249. 10 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 402. BAD POINTS UNDER GEORGE III. 29 1 In 1780, the rejection by the Upper House of the contractors' bill 'rendered the Lords very odious.' 1 Laws became more severe. In 1803, Lord Ellenborough's Act against cutting and maiming. 2 In 1780, Turner in the House of Commons violently attacked the clergy as friends to arbitrary power. 3 Franklin was insulted by Wedderburn in presence of the judge. 4 Bad judges. 8 Charles Butler, who knew Wilkes, says, ' In his real politics he was an aristocrat, and would much rather have been a favoured courtier at Versailles than the most commanding orator in St. Stephen's chapel.' 6 In 1801, the peace of Amiens, and therefore in 1802 a great excess in the value of British exports ; but this being followed by war in 1803, our exports again fell 7 The ' Berlin Decree ' would not have hurt us but for our foolish ' Orders in Council' in 1807 (Porter, ii. 146). Porter (Progress of the Nation, iii. 183-186) notices the mischievous opposition made by Eldon and Ellenborough and the peers against Romilly and Mackintosh. George III. did wrong to make so many judges legislators, and raise them to high office in the state. Lord Camden was one of the greatest of all our judges. Lord Eldon was indifferent to truth. Kenyon, Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, in his advice on the coronation oath, confused the legislative with the exe- cutive capacity of the king ; and on another occasion he, as late as 1800, complimented a jury on their having found a man guilty of forestalling grain. 8 In 1770, Sergeant Glynn, in a motion, said ' that a general belief prevailed of the judges being unfriendly to juries, encroaching on their constitutional power, and laying down false law to mislead them in their verdicts.' 9 Lord Ellenborough was able. 10 Lord Eldon, whose very virtues made bigotry more 1 Campbell's Chancellors, vol. v. p. 308. 8 Adolphus, vol. vii. p. 693. 3 Adolphus, George III., vol. iii. p. 115. 4 Chatham Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 322. 5 Campbell's Chancellors, voL v. pp. 341, 344, 345, 508, 509 ; and vol. vi. pp. 210, 493. 6 Butler's Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 73. 7 Porter's Progress of the Nation, vol. ii. p. 145. 8 Adolphus, vol. vii. pp. 406, 445. 9 Adolphus, vol. i. p. 475, and still stronger in Parl. Hist. voL xvi. pp. 1212, 1216. 10 Brougham's Statesmen, vol. vi. p. 6. U 2 FRAGMENTS dangerous by making it more respectable. Lord Mansfield always opposed the Americans. ! Campbell 2 says Lord Kenyon hated his predecessor, Mansfield, who opposed his appointment. Lord Mansfield wished Bullar to be his successor ; but this Pitt refused. 3 Eldon, Kenyon, and Lord Redesdale despised Mansfield. 4 Lord Mansfield, the greatest judge ever seen in England, received his appointment a few years before George III. came to the throne, and directly the king ascended he openly avowed those principles which, under a better government, he had been glad to conceal. He favoured the monstrous pretensions of the House of Com- mons to disqualify Wilkes, and he, like all the judges, opposed the right of the jury to decide libels. He opposed the extension of the Habeas Corpus. Lord Camden was made Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in 1762, having already been three years attorney-general. 5 He was chancellor from 1766 to 1770.6 He opposed general warrants. 7 He was the only friend to liberty among the judges. During the last fifty years of the eighteenth century there was no chance of law reform. Lord Camden, the only popular judge, openly opposed the ministry by whom he was appointed. Unscrupulous judges like Bullar, and Gibbs, and Eldon, and even really eminent magistrates like Grant and Stowell, were narrow. Kenyon, Holroyd, Littledale, Lough- borough. Whenever the king had his way, all the great judicial appointments were given to men who had distinguished themselves as enemies of the popular liberties. Lord Camden, indeed, held for a time the office of chancellor, but he was the open opponent of the ministers by whom he was appointed, and after his dismissal the great seal, which had been held by Somers, Cowper, and Hardwicke, fell into the hands of Loughborough, Thurlow, and Eldon. It was not to be supposed they would do anything to cleanse the law from its impurities, and all idea of law reform was lost The chancellors were weak men like Bathurst, or hyprocrites like Thurlow and Eldon. In 1770, it was said by Townshend 8 that a judge, Sir Joseph Yates, received a letter from the king desiring him to favour the court in certain trials, but that he sent 1 Adolphus, vol. ii. p. 145. s Lives of the Chief Justices, vol. ii. p. 394. 5 Ibid. p. 549. 4 Campbell's Chief Justices, voL ii. pp. 437, 438, 550 note. 5 Brougham, vol. v. p. 192 6 Ibid. pp. 198, 202, 203. 7 Ibid. pp. 196, 201, 210. 8 p ar ]_ Hist. vol. xvi. pp. 1228, 1229. BAD POINTS UNDER GEORGE III. 293 back the letter unopened. In 1770, Burke 1 speaks with great severity of the judges. Even the judicial appointments were regu- lated by the same unhappy spirit. It is now universally ad- mitted that among the lawyers of that age the largest and most enlightened minds were those of Mackintosh and Romilly. Romilly is perhaps chiefly known by his noble efforts to soften those cruel laws for which our penal code was then remarkable ; but his other law reforms were in advance even of our time. As to Mackintosh it would be idle to praise a man who, in addition to other merits, was the first to investigate our laws on general principles. But these were precisely the kind of men for which, in the reign of George III., no honour could be found. While there were such Chief Justices as Kenyon, and such Chancellors as Bathurst and Thurlow, Romilly was made Solicitor-General, and the Recordership of Bombay was conferred on Mackintosh. This was natural in an age when North and Addington were the favour- ites, and Burke and Grenville excluded. 2 In 1778, the earl of Shelburne complained of the judges being politicians, 3 and then it was 4 that the pernicious custom first became general of mixing up- the executive and legislative branches. 5 Lord Mansfield opposed the Contractors' Bill in i78o, 6 by which it was attempted to limit the enormous influence of the Crown. Lord Loughborough was chiefly recommended to the king by his hatred to the Americans. The best guarantee in any country for the sound administra- tion of justice is not the ability of the judges, but the extent to which they feel themselves under the control of public opinion. Therefore under George III., justice was pure but not liberal. Campbell, Denman, and Brougham could never have been ap- pointed. The ability with which justice is administered depends on the ability of the judge, its purity and honesty on the control of the people. In 1782, George III. of his own authority added iooo/. a year to the pay of the Chief Justice of Common Pleas ; thus, as the Duke of Richmond said, setting a bad example of inducing the judges to look up to the Crown. 7 In 1784, Lord 1 Part. Hist. vol. xvi. p. 1270. * See Brougham, vol. ii. p. 13. 3 Part. Hist. vol. xix. pp. 924, 925. 4 Ibid. p. 1318. 5 See also vol. xxix. p. 1420. 6 Ibid. vol. xxi. pp. 447, 451. 7 Ibid. vol. xxiii. p. 961. 294 FRAGMENTS Kenyon, then Master of the Rolls, asserted that the High Bailiff of Westminster was justified in not making a return when Fox brought forward the celebrated Libel Bill, now admitted to be one of the greatest improvements ever made ; the judges universally opposed it. 1 Lord Mahon* says that George III. at his accession secured the independence of the judges. In 1 761, Pratt, afterwards Lord Camden, was very ill-treated by Government. 3 'In 1794, the majority of the House of Commons for England and Wales was computed to be chosen by less than eight thousand out of eight millions.' 4 DESPOTISM UNDER GEORGE III. I. IN 1763, the king deprived Wilkes of his commission as colonel in the Buckinghamshire militia, and as Lord Temple complimented Wilkes, he was dismissed from the lord-lieutenancy, and his name expunged from the list of privy councillors. 8 In 1763, General Conway, who usually supported the Government, voted on one occasion against them, and was consequently ' deprived of his civil and military employments.' 6 II. In 1769, the House of Commons, assuming the functions of representatives and constituents, expelled Wilkes from the House. The remark of Adolphus 7 is very pleasant. III. In 1771, the Lord Mayor was sent to the Tower, 8 and even Adolphus 9 allows the purity of his conduct. IV. In 1773, Colonel Barre and Sir Hugh Williams were passed over in some military promotion on account of their votes in Parliament. 10 V. The king tampered with the peers to induce them to throw out Fox, his own minister. This Adolphus 11 seems inclined to doubt. VI. In 1793, it was laid down by the Solicitor-General that during war the king had a right by proclamation to forbid ' the return to the country of any subject not convicted of a crime.' 12 1 See ParL Hist. vol. xxix. pp. 1294, 1428, 1537, 1538. * Hist of England, vol. iv. p. 217. 3 See Walpole, Mem. of George III., vol. i. pp. 125, 126. 4 Note in Burton's Diary, vol. iii. p. 149. 5 Adolphus, Hist, of George III., voL i. p. 125. Ibid. p. 141. 7 Ibid. p. 347. 8 Ibid. pp. 489, 490. 9 Ibid. p. 492. 10 Ibid. p. 569. 11 Ibid. voL iv. p. 6r. i 2 Ibid. vol. v. 395, 397. AFTER FRENCH REVOLUTION 295 VII. In 1793 booksellers punished. 1 VIII. Read Howell's Trial, xxii. 909, in Adolphus v. 529. IX. In 1793, Lord Chief Justice Clark said that only 'landed property' should be represented. Quote his amusing remarks in Adolphus, v. 539, 540. X. In 1798, the duke of Norfolk was dismissed from the Lord- Lieutenancy for proposing the ' majesty of the people.' See Adol- phus, vi. 692, where it is said Pitt opposed this paltry act XI. In 1795, a bill was brought forward extending the statute of treason. 2 And another bill, against seditious meetings, forbad any meeting to be held without consent of the magistrate. 3 These two bills in popular speech were called respectively ' the Treason and the Sedition Bills.' 4 They made Fox say that obedience was only a question of prudence. 5 The consequence of all this violence was the mutiny at the Nore in 1797, of which there is an account in Adolphus at vi. 560-588. In 1799, Pitt proposed a measure to put an end to debating societies. 6 XII. In 1799, the political prisoners were shamefully treated. 7 XIII. Allen 8 says that on Hardy's trial the Attorney-General claimed for the king of England power equal to that claimed for Louis XIV. XIV. Read Wyvill's Correspondence, in five or six volumes, often quoted by Adolphus. AFTER FRENCH REVOLUTION. THE bank stopped payment and otherwise would have been bankrupt. 9 The directors of the bank told Pitt what the conse- quence would be of sending so much money out of the kingdom. In 1797 the country had 'long wished for' peace. 10 In 1798 the Bishop of Durham made some silly remarks on the short petticoats of the opera women ; u the minute knowledge dis- 1 Adolphus, Hist, of George III., vol. v. pp. 525, 526 ; and vol. vi. p. 695. 2 Ibid. vol. vi pp. 359, 360. 3 Ibid. p. 364. 4 Ibid. p. 368. 5 Ibid. p. 373. On their provisions, see p. 378. 6 Ibid. vii. pp. 140, 141. 7 Ibid. p. 134. 8 Inquiry into the Royal Prerogative, p. 25. 9 Parl. Hist. vol. xxxiii. p. 51. 10 Ibid. pp. 406, 414, 417, 718 ; and voL xxxv. p. 413. 11 Ibid. vol. xxxiii. p. 1308. 296 FRAGMENTS played by the bishop- on such a subject gave rise to some natural mirth, and the Morning Chronicle spoke of it in a way far milder than it would be now noticed if a bishop were to be so foolish. It will hardly be believed that Lambert and Perry were for this called to the bar of the House of Lords, fined 5o/., and in addition to the fine, imprisoned in Newgate, each for three months. 1 In 1799, Mr. Flower, in a Cambridge newspaper, made some criticisms on a speech delivered by Watson, bishop of Llandaff. For this he was brought before the House of Lords, fined ioo/., and thrown into Newgate for six months. 2 In 1 798 the attorney -general brought in a bill to ' regulate newspapers.' 3 In 1799 Pitt brought in a bill to check debating societies. 4 In 1798 the standing orders for excluding strangers were twice enforced. 5 In 1798 Windham, Secretary of War, expressed a desire to prevent the proceedings of the House of Commons being published in the newspapers. 6 In 1800 Sheridan said that the scarcity of provisions was partly caused by the waste arising from the increased consumption of men manning our navy in active service, who ate more than those at home. 7 And Grey adds : 8 ' Thousands are taken from labori- ous occupations to consume what is produced by the labour of others.' Read Tooke's History of Prices. In 1800 Jones said, ' In Worcester numbers lived upon turnips, and in York numbers lived upon greens.' 9 In 1800, bread was eighteen pence 'the quartern loaf.' 10 In 1800, the wages of agricultural labour were Ss. to gs. a week. 11 The increase of the poor widened the labour market, by throwing into it men who before had never been obliged to work. On the enormous increase of the poor rates see Parliamentary History, voL xxxv. pp. 1064-1065 ; and read Eden's History of the Labouring Classes. The trials of Muir and Palmer in Scotland, and Wakefield and Lord Thanet in England. Mem. of Fox, iii. 60, 165. 1 Parl. Hist. vol. xxxiii. pp. 1311, 1313. 2 Ibid. vol. xxxiv. p. 1000. 5 Ibid. vol. xxxiii. p. 1415.. 4 Ibid. vol. xxxiv. p. 987. 5 Ibid. vol. xxxiii. pp. 1513, 1514. . 6 Ibid. vol. xxxiv. pp. 152, 153, 157, 158, 159. ? Ibid. vol. xxxv. p. 532. 8 Ibid. p. 535. s Ibid. p. 697. 10 Ibid. pp. 710, 711. n Ibid. p. 833. IMPROVEMENTS UNDER GEORGE III. 297 In 1793, the English people were tired of the war. 1 In 1795, the Earl of Lauderdale said of the Treasonable Prac- tices Bill, ' In the old government of France there was nothing more despotic than what this bill went to create. It was the introduction of the system of terror into this country.' 2 And Fox said 3 that ' under it Locke would have been exiled for his writings.' IMPROVEMENTS UNDER GEORGE III. EARLY in the eighteenth century political economy was first pub- licly taught. But in 1714 despised. In 1794, the attorney -gene- ral failed in five prosecutions, and was mobbed by the people. Priestley, in 1768, lays down the right of cashiering the sovereign. 4 The fortunate neglect of literary men by George II. and Walpole, assisted in establishing the independence of literature. 8 In literature the Watsons, and in art West, opposed the classical school. See a curious account in Gait's Life of West. On the stage Garrick succeeded Quin. See Life of Cumberland and Macklin. At the end of the seventeenth century the scientific spirit first attacked the classics. Compare the dispute of Sir W. Temple, &c. In 1 708, Burnet 6 attacks Latin. In the middle of the eighteenth century it declined ; and was discountenanced by both the Pitts. In 1730, all law pleadings were altered from Latin to English. Prejudices of Johnson. Lord Monboddo said no one ignorant of Greek could write English. Harris, in Hermes, derived from Latin our beautiful language. This was remedied by Home Tooke, a liberal. Fusion of society. Coleridge 7 complains of the diminished respect for the ancients. Anglo-Saxon even was neglected in that busy and spirited age. The increase of physical knowledge under Charles II. was the first blow to the ancients. The disloyalty of Oxford brought it into disrepute. Even Cambridge fell off. Hence private schools in- creased ; then came Bell and Lancaster. Dress became careless ; before then it was stiff. Like the Chinese, politeness and rank . J See Russell's Memoir of Fox, vol. iii. p. 39. 3 ParL Hist. vol. xxxii. p. 246. 3 Ibid. voL xxxiii. p. 615. 4 See Thomson's Hist of Chemistry, vol. ii. p. 12. 5 Ibid. pp. 61, 62. . 6 Works, vol. vi. pp. 200, 201. 7 The Friend, vol. iii. p. 106. 298 FRAGMENTS were known by dress. Now the dress is gone and only titles remain, which will go. In 1771, Calcraft writes to Lord Chatham * 'the ministers own Wilkes too dangerous to meddle with.' In 1771, 'mob even of the better class.' 2 In the middle of the reign of George II. Le Blanc, 3 after mentioning the freedom of our press, says that govern- ment dare not act against it even legally. The acquittal of Tooke, &c., must have greatly weakened the government. That great authority, Lord Mansfield, laid it down ' that a court prosecution should never be instituted without certainty of success.' 4 Franklin 5 writes in 1773, from London, that all the dissenters favoured the Americans ; and see Adolphus, History of George III., vol. il p. 331. Middle class, in the middle of the eighteenth century, were called Esquire. Walpole, remaining a commoner, assisted their fame. Aristocracy. They lost ground early in the reign of George III. by settling in London, instead of merely taking lodgings as formerly. In 1708 Burnet (vi. 214) notices that the sessions of Parliament be- came longer, and caused an increased residence of nobles in London. George III. was ridiculed for his manners. PROGRESS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. I. INCREASE of mercantile [intercourse] and manufactures les- sened superstition, as I have shown, under Charles II. In 1740 the merchants were making great head. 6 In 1708 Burnet 7 says, ' As for the men of trade and business, they are, generally speaking, the best body in the nation, generous, sober, and charitable.' Thus early did they secure the character they have ever since possessed. Between 1750 and 1796 a wonderful increase in bankers. 8 The increasing curiosity and wealth of the commercial classes first in- duced them to buy seats in parliament, and thus weakened the territorial influence. 9 The French war in 1793, the landowners fancied was the cause of their own ruin ; for, says Alison, 10 during 1 Chatham Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 122. 2 Ibid. pp. 133, 134. 3 Lettres d'un Fran9ais, vol. ii. pp. 313, 314. 4 Butler's Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 125. 5 Correspondence, vol. i. p. 237. 6 Correspondence of Countess Pomfret and Harford, vol. i. p. 300. 7 Own Times, vol. vi. p. 202. 8 Burke's Works, vol. ii. p. 292. 9 Hallam, vol. ii. p. 447. IP Hist, of Europe, vol. xiv. p. 188. PROGRESS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 299 the war the commercial and manufacturing interest had so greatly increased, that they 'had become irresistible.' By the beginning of the eighteenth century the people were becoming so powerful that the Tories as well as the Whigs appealed to them. The ' clamour ' for parliamentary reform first rose late in the American war. 1 After 1688, the crown, terrified by the example of two Re- volutions, began to use corruption instead of threats. See the admirable remarks of Erskine in Parl. Hist xxx. 829. Locke, in his Essay on Government, 2 recommends doing away with rotten boroughs. Under Charles II. it was first legal to present petitions to parliament II. Scarcely had the Revolution swept away the Stuarts and humbled the Church, when Locke put fonvard the first proposal to change the electoral system. In 1710, newspapers first inter- fered in politics, and cheap political pamphlets first arose. In 1720, political caricatures first became common. III. Petitions. In 1717, the first political petitions. 3 In 1767, petitions to the king first became general. In 1780, Society for Constitutional Information, London Reforming Society, and the Society of the Friends of Liberty. In 1771 the 'Society of the Bill of Rights.' In 1765, all men were politicians. 4 Under the reign of George II. the power of the people continued rapidly to increase. In 1779, the Yorkshire Association was formed for Parlia- mentary Reform. About 1770 an attempt was first made to increase the power of the electors by exacting pledges from candi- dates. There were debating clubs for political tradesmen. Even tradesmen met at the Robin Hood. 5 In 1792, the 'Friends of the People' formed to get Parliamentary Reforms. In 1791, the London Corresponding Society. IV. Even such dissolute men and demagogues as Paine and Fox were popular. The writings of Paine produced immense effect, solely because they opposed the tyranny of the Court and Church. The people knew that Wilkes was persecuted from 1 Parl. Hist. vol. xxix. p. 1505. * Works, vol. iv. pp. 432, 433. 3 Hallam, vol. ii. p. 419. Vernon Correspondence. voL iii. p. 146. 4 Grosley's London, voL i. p. 189. 5 Prior's Life of Burke, p. 75. and on Robin Hood Societies, Prior's Goldsmith, vol. i. pp, 419, 420 ; and Campbell's Chancellors, vol. vi. p. 373. Grosley's London, 3OO FRAGMENTS revenge. In 1780, county meetings were attacked in Parliament. 8 In 1743, caricatures were becoming common. 2 Lord Mahon, 3 on the authority of Hallam, says in 1761, 'The sale of boroughs to- any wide extent may be dated from this period ; ' but Mahon * gives instances of this bribery as early as I7i4- 5 Paine 's works were popular, not that the people of this country had a taste for the apish buffoonery of Wilkes or scurrility of Paine, but because they saw them struggling against a bad government, and they sympathised, not with the martyrs, but with the cause. In 1738, even the lowest classes were greedy of political news. 6 In 1740,, the sale of boroughs was notorious; 7 and in 1741, it is observed* that bribery and corruption had succeeded the excesses of autho- rity. The great patriots of the time of Charles I. never thought of the doctrine of representation, nor was it claimed in the Bill of Rights in 1688. Dr. Parr 9 says the American war made Englishmen inquire into political rights. It was the strength of public opinion which put an end to the American war. 10 Late in the seventeenth century I find a complaint 11 that a republican party was 'reprinting Harrington's .Oceana, the works of Milton,, Ludlow, and Sidney, all on the same subject, and tending to- promote the design of lessening and reproaching monarchy.' The impetus given by the Puritans remained after the Restora- tion an undercurrent only showing itself in scepticism and dissent. Meetings for Parliamentary reform, see Albemarle's Memoirs- of Lord Rockingham, ii. pp. 93, 94. In 1769, Chatham advises the nobles to unite with the people. 12 V. Newspapers. Their real power rose under Wilkes, when the House of Commons ceased to be the popular organ. 13 Im- mense increase of newspapers between 1724 and 1792. And on the increasing power of the press, see Prior's Life of Burke, P- 275- 1 Parl. Hist. vol. xx. p. 1352 ; vol. xxi. pp. 80, 265. 2 Mahon's England, vol. iii. p. 187. 3 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 220. 4 Ibid. vol. i. p. 46. 5 See also Hallam, vol. ii. p. 447. 6 Parl. Hist. voL x. p. 378. 7 Ibid. vol. xi. p. 376. 8 Ibid. p. 1135. 9 Works, vol. ii. p. 329. 10 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 14. 11 Somers Tracts, vol. xi. p. 155. , 12 Bancroft's American Revolution, vol. iii. p. 354. 13 Arnold's Lectures on Modern History, pp. 264, 266. PROGRESS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 30! VI. Notwithstanding bad judges, the juries did their duty. In 1794, they acquitted Hardy, Tooke, and Thelwall; and in 1796, Stone. 1 In Adolphus, Hist, of George III. vol. vi. pp. 48-71, there is a summary of the trials of Hardy, Tooke, and Thelwall. In 1794, Tooke was acquitted in a few minutes. The acquittal of Hone in 1817 was a great gain. It became known that no jury would bring in Junius guilty. At the accession of George II. the Jacobite and High Church faction were nearly extinct. The government of William III. avowedly relied on the con- sent of the nation, and neither Anne nor George I. and II. dared to oppose liberties to which they owed their crown. In 1721, the first question was put in Parliament to a minister of the crown. VII. Nineteenth Century. By the end of the eighteenth cen- tury the social and intellectual movement had become so strong that the political reaction could no longer bear up against it See in Life of Wilberforce, iii. p. 12, some very remarkable evidence on the change in 1801, coming over the minds of men, and their desire for reform. See also p. 227, respecting the increasing power of ' popular opinion.' This notwithstanding the apostasy of the Regent. The French Revolution diminished the inordinate respect for rank. (See paper on Education.) As the nine- teenth century advanced the progress became evident The Whigs formerly were forced to call in the aristocracy to balance the Crown, but now the people were called in, and there arose Radicals, and even Tories were mitigated into Conservatives. The principles of Reform, invigorated by the American Revolu- tion, were now reinvigorated by the French Revolution. In 1800, the moneyed interest, by loans, &c., had greatly benefited by the war at the expense of the 'landed interest.' 2 At the same time, the mean men whom Pitt made peers weakened the aristocratic element. At the same time, the anti-ecclesiastical movement rapidly proceeded. In 1801, the clergy were finally expelled the House of Commons, thus preparing the way for their ultimate removal from the Upper House. And, although this was really a party measure it supplied one of those precedents by which men are much influenced. 1 Campbell's Chancellors, voL vi. pp. 450, 462, 470, 481. * Parl. Hist. voL xxxv. p. 699. 302 FRAGMENTS CIRCUMSTANCES FAVOURABLE TO THE ENGLISH PEOPLE EARLY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. ALISON ! says that in 1803 the violent conduct of Napoleon and his arrest of the English, reduced even the opposition to be in favour of a war with France, and thus turned a social struggle into a national contest. Indeed, it was now shown that the Whigs were really patriotic. 2 Pitt was for the first time supported by Fox and Sheridan ; the incompetent ministry of Addington was turned out A.D. i8o4. 3 Alison 4 says that the defeat of Aus- terlitz ' made a deep impression on the public mind ' of England, and caused men to desire a fusion of the two political parties, to make common cause against so dangerous an enemy. The result was that the miserable prejudices of George III. against the greatest statesman of his age were forced to give way, and in 1806 Fox and his party were admitted into the cabinet. 5 The new ministry, in the same year, introduced a bill for ' enlistments for a limited period of service.' 6 In 1806 they also abolished the slave trade. 7 However, in April, 1807, a Tory ministry came in. g When, in 1808, the news arrived that the Spanish people had risen against Napoleon, all classes in England were mad with delight. 9 As Napoleon's troops, after beating the Spanish government, had been beaten by the Spanish people, it was believed that a new era had begun in which military discipline would be conquered by popular energy. 10 Alison says ll that Canning's love of popularity made him ' encourage the insurrection of the South American colonies, but in so doing he established a precedent of fatal appli- cation in future times to his own country.' The Edinburgh Review did much. Pitt was succeeded by Perceval, Thurlow by Eldon, and thus the Tories were themselves inferior men ; but so, it may be added, were the Whigs. How- ever, now it was that the Whigs first began to study political economy. This must have aided our liberty by showing the injury of that mischievous system which is called protective government. 1 Alison's History of Europe, vol. vi. p. 209. 3 Ibid. pp. 237, 238 ; vol. viii. p. 455. 3 Ibid. vol. vi. pp. 250, 251. 4 Ibid. vol. vii. p. 85. 5 Ibid. p. 88. 6 Ibid. pp. 380, 387, 391. 7 Ibid. pp. 395, 403. 8 Ibid. p. 456. 9 Ibid. vol. viii. p. 451. 10 Ibid. pp. 497, 498. it Ibid. vol. ix. p. 254. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 303 Pitt would have ruined us if there had not come into play that enormous mechanical and physical knowledge which I have already pointed out as one of the results of diminished superstition, and which so increased our wealth that we bore up against the pressure. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. . . . Opposition to the spirit of the age. When sentence has been passed upon it by a large majority of the nation, its doom is inevitably fixed. It may for a time be preserved by violence, but that same violence must eventually react against those who employ it, and in its ravages will destroy what under a more pliant policy would probably have been preserved. This is the law of the physical world, and it is likewise the law of the moral world. . . . And thus it always is with those statesmen and legislators who are so ignorant of their calling as to think it lies within their function to anticipate the march of affairs and to provide for far distant contingencies. In trifling matters this, indeed, may be done without danger, though as the constant changes in the laws of every country abundantly prove it is also done without benefit. But, in reference to those large and fundamental measures which bear upon the destiny of a people, such anticipation is worse than idle ; it is highly injurious. In the present state of knowledge politics, so far from being a science, is one of the most backward of all the arts, and the only safe course for the legislator is to look upon his craft as consist- ing in the adaptation of temporary contrivances to temporary emergencies. His business is to follow the age, and not at all to attempt to lead it. He should be content to study [what] is passing before his eyes, and modify his schemes, not according to the traditional theory, but according to the actual exigencies of his own time, of which society itself is the sole judge. But with extremely few exceptions, his practical habits and his ignorance of great speculative truths will always disqualify him from forming that philosophic estimate of his own time by which alone he could be able to anticipate the wants, and facilitate the progress, of distant generations. These are among those broad and general views which will 304 FRAGMENTS hardly be disputed by any man who, with a competent knowledge of history, has reflected much on the nature and conditions of modern society. But, during the reign of George III., not only were such views unknown, but the very end and object of govern- ment was entirely mistaken. It was then believed that govern- ment was made for the minority, to whose interests the majority were bound humbly to submit. In those days it was believed that the power of making laws must always be lodged in the hands of a few privileged classes : that the nation at large had no concern with those laws except to obey them ; and that a wise government would secure the obedience of the people by preventing education from spreading among them. It is surely a remarkable circumstance that the people who had been withheld from their own now began to re-enter on their original rights. Political empire declined, and the intellectual empire rose up. And what is still more remarkable is, that this great change should have been effected, not by any great external event nor by a sudden insurrection of the people, but by the unaided action of moral force : the silent but effective pressure of public opinion which an arbitrary government had been able to stop but not to destroy. This has always appeared to me to be a decisive proof of the natural and, if I may so say, the healthy march of English civilization. It is a proof of an elasticity and yet a sobriety of spirit which no other nation has ever displayed. No other nation could have escaped from such a crisis except by a revolution, of which the cost might well have exceeded the gain. But in our country the progress of those principles which I have endeavoured to trace, had diffused among the people a caution and a spirit of wisdom which made them pause before they cared to strike, taught them to husband their strength, and which enabled them to reserve their, force for those better days when, for their benefit, a party began again to be organised in the state, by whom their interests were successfully advocated, even within the walls of parliament. For thirty-five years no parliament has ventured to sanction, no minister has even dared to propose, any measure hostile to the interests of the people. Whigs have become Radicals, Tories have become Conservatives. The Radicals avoid the monarchical and theological prejudices of the Tories and the aristocratic prejudices of the Whigs. In 1808 the Examiner, the first influential newspaper in favour of Reform. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 305 Public meetings were held. Then came Associations for Parlia- mentary Reform. Then education by Bell, &c. This was owing to the Dissenters, who also favoured the Americans. Then came the acquittal of Hardy and Tooke. . . . The circumstances which accompanied this great reaction are too complicated, and have been too little studied for me to attempt in this Introduction to offer even a sketch of them. It is, however, sufficient to say, what must be generally known, that for nearly fifty years the movement has continued with unabated spirit ; everything which has been done has increased the power of the people. Blow after blow has been directed against those classes which were once the sole depositaries of power. The Reform Bill, the Emancipation of the Catholics, and the Repeal of the Corn Laws, are admitted to be the three greatest political achievements of the present generation. Each of these vast measures has depressed a powerful party. The extension of the suffrage has lessened the influence of hereditary rank, and, what is equally important, has broken up that great oligarchy of landowners by whom both Houses of Parliament had long been ruled. The abolition of protection still further en- feebled the territorial aristocracy, and by diminishing in many instances the value of tithes has curtailed the incomes of the clergy. At the same time those superstitious feelings, by which the ecclesiastical order is mainly upheld, received a severe shock : firstly, by the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, and after- wards by the admission of Catholics to the legislature ; steps which are with reason regarded as supplying a precedent of mischievous import for the interests of the Established Church. . . . There is no more danger of political reaction, for crown, Church, and nobles are weakened, [the] press is supreme, and the people have a hold over public affairs, so that even the most imperious minister defers to those whom half a century ago he would have despised. Great suffering was caused by the policy which governed England during the reign of George III. But those sufferings will not be wasted if they teach our politicians the lessons of modesty and inculcate the great truth that the art of the statesman is to wait and bide his time the servant of knowledge and the handmaid of great thinkers. VOL. i. x 306 FRAGMENTS The spirit of practical benevolence is so strong and so active that there is scarcely a corner of the kingdom where it is not doing its work. Even the judicial and legislative bodies of the country have felt the general contagion. Juries are unwilling to condemn, and judges are anxious to pardon. Less is thought of punishing the offence, and more is thought of reforming the offender. Our prisons have been purged of those foul and infamous abuses which gaolers once practised with impunity on their unhappy captives. Madhouses have ceased to be receptacles for the lust and cruelty of the keepers, and the insane themselves have been treated with mercy. Degrading and infamous punishments, the pillory and personal mutilation, are obsolete, and even in the army and navy flogging is going out. In our schools less cruelty. . . . Ameliora- tions have been effected in our criminal code, which the most humane legislator would formerly have considered impossible, and penalties have been abolished which were once deemed absolutely necessary. And if we take a more general view, we cannot fail to ob- serve that at no period has our country remained so long at peace. This, I think, is one of the most unequivocal features of the present age. It is eminently the result of a diminished ferocity in our temper, and of an increased sense of the importance of human life. Among the most civilized people a growing contempt for warlike pursuits is gradually extirpating that lust of military glory which is one of the most diseased appetites of a barbarous nation. Indeed, so clearly marked is this tendency, that when recently, in an adjoining country, an untoward combination of events hurried into the field immense bodies of troops, the movement, at first so threatening, ended in a spectacle for which the history of the world affords no parallel Great armies, furnished with all the appliances of war, and burning with national hatred, confronted each other for months, and then, amid every variety of mutual provocation, were disbanded without striking a blow, because their respective governments did not dare to outrage the feelings of Europe by giving that signal which the military leaders so eagerly expected. These are among the results of that increased sense of the value and dignity of man which, as we know from the experience of every country, is intimately connected with the decay of superstition. But while such have been the moral effects, the physical effects have been hardly less important. Whatever explanation we may ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 307 give, it stands recorded in history as a fact beyond the possibility of dispute, that during the last five centuries the progress of knovdedge has been everywhere accompanied by a decline of the ecclesiastical influence. To me the explanation of the pheno- menon appears very simple. As the theological spirit becomes more feeble, the secular spirit must become more powerful. In every successive generation the attention of men has been less attracted by dogmatic and ritual pursuits, and has therefore had more leisure for the acquisition of real and positive knowledge. What has been lost by the clergy has been gained by mankind. The English intellect, exulting in its freedom, has only in these latter times, put forth its unshackled powers. The minds of our countrymen have become larger in their scope and more definite in their aim. The consequence has been that since the Revo- lution of 1688 there has been effected in this little' island alone more permanent good than had been accomplished before by the aggregate wisdom of the human race. The laws of sound have been discovered, and to their aggregate the name of acoustics given. Bradley discovered the aberration of light. By the two Herschels the heavens have been surveyed in both hemispheres, and so jealously have they been, as it were, swept by the telescope, that discoveries are now being constantly made of the bodies which lie in their immeasurable space. By the discoveries of Young and Champollion the learning of Egypt has been restored : a silence of two thousand [years] has been broken. During that sceptical movement in the reign of Charles II. which I have already traced, Newton had begun, and in the reign of William III. had completed, that series of amazing dis- coveries any one of which would have immortalised his name. The law of gravitation was carried by him to the furthest boundaries of the solar system, and there is now a growing disposition to push it still further, so as to include the furthest limits of the physical universe. By the continued efforts of different countries there has been made that vast series of magnetic observations which almost cover the circuit of the globe, and from which it now remains for some great thinker to work out the laws of terrestrial magnetism. Since the death of Newton, electricity has been raised to a science. The geologists have begun and almost completed their magnificent design of mapping out the globe. Bell, Hall, and Mayo on the nerves. Prichard, Newman, and Donaldson on x 2 308 FRAGMENTS language. Hallam and Macaulay, the only two historians we have had since Gibbon. Sanscrit literature first known in 1785. The diseases of the mind, Pinel, Esquirol, and Pritchard. Poli- tical economy by Adam Smith, Ricardo, and Mill. The laws of population by Malthus, and at a great distance below by Sadler. In logic, the revival by Whately, and the discoveries by Herschel and Mill We have in a few years created numerous manufactures, one of which is equal to all the manufactures of the ancient world put together. The enormous increase in our material wealth. The great revolution, begun by Bacon and Descartes, was com- pleted ; and the study of the mind became secular. A long line of illustrious thinkers, from Newton to Davy, and from Davy to Faraday, have successfully laboured in their glorious vocation to push even into the depths of nature the intellectual empire of man. Laws, the very existence of which had never been suspected, have been made plain to the lowest understanding ; and are now the common property of the civilized world. Innu- merable varieties of physical phenomena have been observed, col- lected, and referred to those general principles by which the harmony of their movements is explained. Nor has this restless energy confined itself to those things by which we are more im- mediately surrounded. There is now hardly a spot in the globe where man has not planted his foot. In the pursuit of knowledge he has scaled the highest mountains and crossed the most dan- gerous deserts. He has ransacked the furthest extremities of the earth with the vain hope of glutting a curiosity that nothing can satiate. By him Nature, even in her inmost recesses, has been rifled of her choicest productions. All that she, in the exube- rance of her wealth, can supply, has been gathered up and made to minister to the happiness of man. It is by him and for him that all this has been done. To multiply his pleasures, and to increase his powers, there have been lavished in boundless pro- fusion all the inventions of art and all the discoveries of science. Nor is there in these unrivalled efforts the least symptom of approaching decline. Wonderful as are the things which have been accomplished, there is every reason to believe that they are as nothing compared to what will hereafter be attained. Indeed the success of the present is the best guarantee for the hopes of the future Within the memory of most men who are now living, there have been introduced improvements, the mere mention of ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 309 which would have provoked the derision of our ancestors. The meanest peasant who tills the soil can now wield resources which, only one generation ago, neither wealth nor power could hope to procure. By the force of the human intellect the very conditions under which Nature exists have been suspended. By the appli- cation of steam we have diminished space. By controlling the motion of a subtle and imponderable fluid, we have, I do not say facilitated communication, but without an hyperbole we have an- ticipated time. But the powers of individual men have not only been rendered greater, they have also been made more durable. By discoveries in the arts of healing, and, what is more import- ant, by discoveries respecting the prevention of disease, we have diminished the total amount of pain ; and we have in an extra- ordinary degree increased the average length of life. Thus it is that the resources of even the lowest unit of the human race have become more numerous, more powerful, and more permanent At the same time there have been wonderfully extended those intel- lectual enjoyments by which we are so eminently distinguished from the rest of the animal creation. Not only have the sources of these mental pleasures been widened ; they have also been multiplied. New branches of knowledge are being constantly opened, and the field of thought has been so incredibly enlarged that even the most sluggish mind may well be lost in amazement at the boundless expanse by which it is surrounded. This is what has been done by the intellect of man. This is what has been done by those noble faculties which a class that yet lingers among us is constantly labouring to vilify and to fetter. There are, indeed, various circumstances incidental to the present stage of civilization which still preserve to these superstitious men a certain share of their former power. But there can, I think, be no reasonable doubt that the days of that power are numbered. And, when their reign is brought to a final close, there will then for the first time be allowed to proceed without interruption the successive epochs of that moral and in- tellectual development which we have every right to suppose will at length conduct the human race to a state of happiness and virtue, which a fond imagination loves to ascribe to that primitive condition of man, of the innocence and simplicity of which we, however, have no better evidence than what is to be found in the traditions of the theologian and in the dreams of the poet. 310 FRAGMENTS ERRORS OF VOLTAIRE. I. HE supposes that civilization has shortened the average duration of life. 1 II. The only instance I remember in which Voltaire looks upon history as a development, is at tome xvii. p. 166 of his CEuvres (Essai sur les Mceurs). Generally speaking, he is too fond of assigning great events to little causes. See, for instance, xvii. 205, 246 ; xviii. 145. He evidently had no notion of it as a science. See his remarks on 'the utility of history,' in Frag- ments sur 1'Histoire, article viii. CEuvres, xxviL 216-218. III. Voltaire may be justly charged with an unphilosophical contempt for the middle ages, and with a still more unphilosophical contempt for antiquity. IV. If I may venture to point out what I conceive to be the errors of this great man, I should class them under three heads : an undue contempt for antiquity ; a disposition to assign great events to little causes ; and an ignorance of economical science, which he might have learnt from Hume, though Quesnai could teach him little, and Turgot had not yet written. Even in 1768 he speaks contemptuously of the middle ages. 2 V. It appears from passages in Luther's Correspondence that, ' long before the dispute with Tetzel,' he was dissatisfied ' with the prevailing system of theology, and the actual condition of the Church.' See an interesting essay on Luther in Rogers's Essays, vol. i. p. 151. ROUSSEAU AND MATERIALISM. WHILE the French were thus outstripping the rest of Europe in the general comprehensiveness of their views, there was un- fortunately forming a school of literature which was destined to retard their progress. Indeed, it could hardly have been expected that so rapid a movement as that which followed the death of Louis XIV. could have taken place without causing serious ex- cesses. The literary men of France, possessed of an influence of which there had then been no example, were intoxicated by their own success. At the same time, the government, which was con- 1 Essai sur les Moeurs, in CEuvres, tome xv. pp. 10, u. 2 Pyrrhonisme de 1'Histoire, in CEuvres, tome xxvi. p. 188. ROUSSEAU AND MATERIALISM 31 1 stantly becoming more contemptible, did everything in its power to irritate those great writers to whom France looked up with such respect. This tended still further to embitter their feelings ; and by the middle of the eighteenth century it was evident that a deadly struggle was about to begin between the literature of France and the government of France. Those who are acquainted with the works of that age will find ample proofs of this, which may be illustrated by a comparison of the different writings of Voltaire. This great and good man had always shown a disposition to keep on terms with the government, and whatever may be the prejudices of those who only know his works by their reputation, it is certain that he was as much a lover of order as a lover of liberty. But although he had now fallen into that period of life of which an ex- cess of caution is the usual characteristic, it is remarkable that the further he advanced in years the more pungent were his sarcasms against ministers, the more violent were his invectives against des- potism. In his life of Charles XII., which was his first historical work, he speaks servilely of kings. In a man like Voltaire, whose sagacity has seldom been equalled, and whose honesty of intention is indisputable, this change is well worthy of attention, and can, I think, only be ascribed to his deep conviction that the government of France was so hopelessly corrupt as to render its reformation impossible. The schism between literature and the government was aided by another schism between literature and religion. The first notice I have met with of Rousseau having a party is in I770. 1 ..... It may, however, have been doubted if much could have been effected by such men as these, whose powers were by no means extraordinary. But there was one of a very different stamp, who was now about to make his appearance. It was reserved for Geneva to produce a writer who of all those in the eighteenth century was the most eloquent, the most passionate, and the most influential. In the same city where the great Protestant Reformer had propagated his narrow and gloomy opinions, there arose two centuries after his death a great social reformer, who openly avowed doctrines from which the murderer of Servetus would have shrunk with horror. The tenets of Rousseau were indeed not only repugnant to all true philosophy, but were subversive of the 1 See CEuvres de Voltaire, tome Iv. p. 177. 312 FRAGMENTS lowest forms of civilization. In a series of works which, for beauty of language, and for wild fervid eloquence, have never been equalled, did this great but misguided man lay down the most monstrous and revolting paradoxes. Voltaire (Ixiii. 75) justly blames Rousseau for wishing to ex- clude history from education. About 1773, Rigoley published an essay to show that since the time of Homer letters and morals had constantly deteriorated. This essay he prefixed to his edition of La Bibliotheque Franchise of La Croix du Maine et du Verdier. 1 Raynal, in his History of the Indies, extolled the innocence of primitive man. 2 It is a striking evidence, not only of the great power of this writer, but also of the feverish condition of the national in- tellect, that such opinions as these were hailed with the wildest enthusiasm. Indeed they made a progress of which few people are aware. Not only the lighter departments of literature, but even the graver branches of knowledge were tainted by them. It was even said that the celebrated Paoli wrote to Rousseau, asking him to draw up laws for Corsica. In 1776, Retif de la Bretonne published a romance called 'L'Ecole des Peres/ in which he imitates Rousseau. Le Blanc advocated his prin- ciples on the stage. Linguet supported his principles. It is said in the Penny Cyclopaedia that Pestalozzi was influenced by his educational works. And in the opinion of a man eminently capable of judging, there would have been without Rousseau no revolution. The influence of these opinions upon history may be easily conceived. If the progress of civilization is the progress of decay ; if the decline of morals is the necessary consequence of the increase of wealth ; if all government is but an impudent pre- tension of the few to control the acts of the many; if these things are true, then indeed it boots little to record the general advance of that inevitable corruption which is so rapidly stealing upon us. It is not therefore surprising that the innumerable disciples of Rousseau not only abstained from writing history, but did not care to conceal their contempt for those who occupied themselves with so trivial a pursuit. As their influence was immense, and 1 Grimm's Correspondance litteYaire, tome xv. pp. 339, 340. 2 See Alison's Hist, of Europe, vol. i. p. 174. . ROUSSEAU AND MATERIALISM 313 after the death of Voltaire was supreme, it necessarily followed that history would be greatly neglected. This, which was the natural consequence of the dominion of such a school, was acce- lerated by the approach of that great revolution which was now so close at hand. The increasing embarrassment of the French Sovereign at length compelled him to have recourse to what was considered the desperate expedient of assembling the Estates of the realm. The literary men of France availed themselves of this to descend into the political arena from which they had hitherto been for the most part excluded. Within a year from the memorable day of their entrance, they were enabled to take an ample revenge for those studied insults which a foolish government had heaped upon them. But without tracing their conduct, I need only point out what is sufficiently evident, that the absorbing nature of their new pursuits was very unfavourable to those speculative and scientific habits which are essential to the historian. I will merely mention two instances in which this is particularly apparent. The younger Mirabeau was in many respects the most extraordinary Frenchman during the latter part of the eighteenth century. His wonderful speeches, which pro- duced such an effect upon those who heard them, have perhaps obscured his reputation, for the vulgar are always unwilling to believe that a great orator can be a profound thinker. But the truth is that, in spite of the scandalous profligacy of his private life, he was not only the first of modern rhetoricians, but he had also a singular aptitude for those comprehensive investigations without which history is one of the most puerile of studies. Only a few months before the Estates were convened, he published his great work on the Prussian monarchy. This, though inaccurate in many of its details, shows that he had an idea of history far superior to that possessed by his contemporaries, and it affords, so far as my reading extends, the first attempt to illustrate the annals of a people by applying to them the science of Political Economy. This alone would form an epoch in historical literature, and there can be no doubt that in a more peaceful age Mirabeau would still further have extended its boundaries. Indeed, such was the interest he took in these subjects, that he intended to translate into French Sir John Sinclair's History of the Public Revenues of the British Empire a work which, notwithstanding its im- perfections, still remains the best we have on that important 3 14 FRAGMENTS subject. But when the Estates were assembled, Mirabeau, like so many other eminent men, appeared as one of the representa- tives of .the people. It was on his motion that the Assembly first set at defiance the royal authority, and he was soon afterwards elected president of that great body whose passions he could sway at will. Amid such excitement as this, the pursuits of philosophy were soon forgotten, and Mirabeau entirely neglected a study for which he was so admirably qualified. The other instance to which I refer is that of the Abbe Sieyes, a man of a singularly acute and penetrating intellect. This able thinker had attempted to study the laws which regulate the progress of society, the dis- covery of which, I need hardly say, is the end and object of all history. Indeed, his mind was so essentially speculative that there are probably many Englishmen who only know him by the unde- served ridicule with which he has been covered by Burke. But, notwithstanding this, he, like Mirabeau, was seduced by the facili- ties afforded by the French Revolution. He entered the Assembly, where his vast powers made him supreme in the committee, as Mirabeau was at the tribune. Thus absorbed into that great vortex, he soon degenerated into a mere practical politician, and another great mind was for ever lost to the literature of France. ' We have thus seen that owing at first to the influence of Rousseau, and afterwards to the still greater influence of the French Revolution, a sudden check was given to the progress of history. Indeed for [many] years after the death of Voltaire there was not produced in France a single work in which an attempt was made to predict the future by studying the past. 2 This state of things was afterwards remedied, partly by the re- action against the tyranny of Napoleon and partly by the intro- duction into France of that great school of German literature to which Europe is so deeply indebted. But before entering into this matter we must first inquire into the progress of history in our own country. 1 I think Volney would have been a great thinker but for the Revolution. Tur- got, too, would have been a great thinker, but he was engrossed by politics. See Cousin, Histoire de la Philosophie, part ii. tome i. p. 251. But he died before the Revolution. 2 Except Condorcet ROUSSEAU AND HIS SCHOOL 315 ROUSSEAU AND HIS SCHOOL. THE first attack made by Rousseau on civilization was in 1750, when the Academy of Dijon gave him the prize for his Essay on the Mischief of Science. 1 Brougham adds that in 1753-4 he also wrote for the Dijon Academy an Essay on the Inequality of Human Conditions. In 1762, he published [the] Contrat Social, and a few weeks afterwards Emile. He died in 1778, only surviving Voltaire five weeks. 2 The opinion of Rousseau that we are de- generating in consequence of increased knowledge is expressed by him in a remarkable letter he wrote to Voltaire in I755- 3 The influence of Rousseau was immense, and after the death of Voltaire was supreme. The influence of Rousseau was partly from the democratic movement : partly from the desire of a reaction against materialism, and partly from that ignorant love men naturally feel for antiquity an explosion of discontent ; partly the old doctrine of the corruption of man. Rousseau even influenced travellers to exaggerate the virtues of barbarians ; this we see in the Travels of La Perouse, Dentrecasteaux, and Levaillant. 4 The effect these opinions had upon Mably is well worthy of observation. This able man was the most influential of all the French publicists of the eighteenth century ; and his most cele- brated work has recently been edited by a celebrated living states- man. His first treatise was called a Parallel between the Romans and the French. It was published in 1740, and in it he speaks with great favour of the existing order of things. But in his latest works, which were written after Rousseau had established a repu- tation, he entirely changes his ground, and assails everything that is modern. This is the case in his Observations upon the History of France, in his Entretiens de Phocion, and in his Treatise upon Legislation, in all of which he pours forth invective upon the de- generacy of the age, ' all those follies to which corrupted nations give the name of politeness, refinement, and courtesy, are but the chains by which slaves are bound and shackled,' &c. &c. Robespierre got his doctrines from Rousseau ; and when a 1 Brougham's Men of Letters and Science, vol. i. pp. 157, 158. 1 Pp. 123, 171, 180. 3 See it in Pieces Justificatives in CEuvres de Voltaire, tome i. pp. 514, 518. 4 See the instances in Comte, Traite" de Legislation, tome ii. pp. 399, 424, and tome iii. p. 339. 316 FRAGMENTS youth he made a pilgrimage to visit him. Rousseau's views of education were adopted by Coyer and by Pestalozzi. His power extended to America. On his influence over Jefferson see Tucker's Life of Jefferson, i. 255. Even Bailly, in his History of Astronomy, talks of an ancient and civilized people who preceded us, and to whom we owe all we know. 1 In 1791, Faust in a work published at Brunswick, said that hernia and a variety of other evils were first introduced by trowsers, and were entirely unknown to innocent savages. Sacombe not only wrote a work to show the evil of deli- vering women by art, but even established what he called the anti- Caesarean school. After mentioning Roussel, say, see on the physiological bearings of Rousseau's views Lawrence's Lectures on Man, pp. 85, 86. I may conclude my account of the influence of Rousseau by quoting, in English, Raynal, who though an historian, struck at the root of all history ; and then I may say that with such principles history was an idle study. Frederick, the well-known duke of Wurtemberg, wrote to Rousseau for advice respecting the education of his children. About 1764, Corsica, under Paoli, applied to Rousseau for a con- stitution. 2 Lacretelle (XVIII 6 Siecle, tome iii. p. 231) calls Ber- nardin de St. Pierre 'eleve de J.-J. Rousseau.' The Poles applied to Rousseau for a plan of government. The writings of Rousseau greatly influenced Brissot. 3 In 1764 Linguet published Le Fanatisme des Philosophes, which, says the Biographic uni- verselle (xxiv. p. 520), was 'ouvrage un peu rechauffe du discours de J.-J. Rousseau sur le danger des sciences, mais assez plein de force et de chaleur pour etre lu avec inte'ret meme apres celui du ce"lebre Ge"nevois.' Dumont 4 says that Condorcet's wife had ' une passion pour les Merits de Rousseau.' Dumont says (p. 47) that Sieyes was a great admirer of Rousseau's Contrat Social. FRENCH LITERATURE AFTER 1750. POETRY declined. The minds of men became physical, scientific, political Eloquence increased. Compare Rousseau 1 CEuvres de Voltaire, tome Iv. p. 353. 2 Lerminier, Philosophie du Droit, tome ii. p. 229. 3 Me'moires de Brissot, tome i. p. ii. 50. 4 Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p. 230. FRENCH LITERATURE AFTER 1750 317 with Montesquieu. In the hands of Diderot the stage repre- sented common life just as the Republican Dutch painters. There was no selection. Everything was equally important. See also Dress. Beaumarchais and La Harpe. In 1767, Vol- taire notices the decline of the theatre ; ! and in 1776, he expresses his horror of tragedies in prose. 2 The decline of the theatre is connected with dress becoming natural, and thus sacri- ficing the ideal to the real. In the same way in the theological art, controversy, or an appeal to the vulgar, was the most decisive evidence of its fall. The moment men appeal they doubt ; and making their art practical they sacrifice the ideal and degrade it to the people instead of raising the people to it. In France after 1750, the drama first became popular and then declined, just as it has done with us, because the people rise above it We have now no great actor, because we regard acting as a pleasure, not as a business. Sir W. Scott notices that formerly audiences were more enlightened ; now only the lower classes frequent the theatre. Mably was to Voltaire what Rousseau was to Montes- quieu. 3 In Paul and Virginia the beauties of ignorance are shown. 4 Thus perhaps, Rousseau was properly democratic, for he thought ignorance and vulgarity virtue. St Pierre, who had attempted to establish a republican colony at first on the shores of the Caspian and then in Madagascar, published the most beau- tiful description of ignorance that has ever appeared. Raynal, Florian, Suard, Laclos, Sillery. In France the theatre declined, because men became too democratic and imitative. See the admirable remarks on the beau ideal of the theatre in Sir Joshua Reynolds' Works, ii. 71, 72 ; and see my ^Esthetics and Theatre. Our most popular painters are Wilkie and Hogarth : not Reynolds, who was too great a man, and too ideal for our democratic habits. In France theatrical composers began to write solely for the parterre. At the end of vol. ii. of Reynolds' Works are chrono- logical and alphabetical lists of the painters. I think after 1 700 there were no great artists in France. Beaumarchais, the author of Figaro, had been employed to aid the Americans in their struggles with England. 5 Marsy's abridgment of Bayle's Dic- 1 CEuvres, tome Ixv. pp. 277, 352 ; tome Ixvi pp. 18, 50 ; tome xviii. pp. 124, 268. * Ibid. Ixix. pp. 228, 336. 3 Barante, Tableau, pp. 117, 128. 4 ibid. p. 165. 5 Sre George), Mfrnoires, tome i. p. 457. 3 1 8 FRAGMENTS tionary was the first great sceptical blow. 1 I think Individuality now rose in Literature. See my National Character. Even the French Academy was seized by the philosophic spirit, and ordered that the loge of St. Louis should cease to be a sermon, and be merely a dissertation on moral virtues. The Marquise de Crequy 2 complains that taste was corrupted and the French lan- guage destroyed by Grimm and Chamfort. In 1756, the Pro- testant Fabre was arrested, and his sufferings were afterwards represented in the drama of L'honnete Criminel, by Fenouillet de Falbaire. 3 In 1747, Gresset was said to have painted Choiseul in his comedy [Le] Mechant. 4 On Beaumarchais' Figaro see Con- tinuation de Sismondi, xxx. 299, 300. In 1784, Saint-Pierre, in Etudes de la Nature, admires ancient simplicity, and hence finds many arguments against the right of property. 5 Le Blanc, about 1740, observes 6 that in France the ancients were entirely neg- lected, and Greek and Latin had given way to other subjects. In the preceding age both Corneille and Racine borrowed from the ancients, and the combat of Corneille is due to Seneca, from whom he borrowed, while the purer taste of Racine went to the Greeks. In 1774 there was a decline of taste in France. 7 Rous- seau's opera, Le Devin du Village, obtained great success on account of its simple language, which took the Parisians by surprise. 8 Raynal, Rousseau, &c., maintained the innocence of original man ; hence, of course, the injuries done to him by clergy and governments. Alison well says, 9 that in consequence of men denying a future state they applied their energies to present gratification and sensuality ; hence Crebillon, Laclos, Louvet. Alison says 10 that Rousseau was to 'social life' what Voltaire was to religion. Lamartine 11 says of the French soldiers in 1792, 'On leur enseignait les hymnes des deux Tyrtees de la Revolution, les poetes Lebrun et Chenier.' Gothe has noticed the importance of the change which took place among French actors, from the stiff artificial manner of Le Kain to the democratic and 1 Georgel, M^moires, tome ii. p. 240. 2 Souvenirs, tome iv. p. 101. 3 Sismondi, vol. xxix. p. 52. * Ibid. p. 191. 5 See Villemain, LitteVature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome iii. pp. 390, 391. 6 Lettres d'un Fran9ais, tome ii. p. 461 ; tome iii. pp. 478, 479. 7 See Le Long, Bibliotheque historique, tome iv. p. 523. 8 Alison's Europe, vol. i. pp. 168, 169. 9 Ibid. p. 175. 10 Ibid. p. 170. 11 Histoire des Girondins, tome v. p. 140. ESTHETIC MOVEMENT AFTER 1 750 319 natural manner of Anfresne. * In painting David sacrificed idea to anatomical exactness. In the hands of Colardeau, Delille, and Saint-Lambert, poetry became descriptive.' 1 ' AESTHETIC MOVEMENT AFTER 1750. THE same love of the external and indifference to the ideal took place in art. Tocqueville says, 3 Raphael cared little about mere anatomy, but ' David et ses Sieves e"taient au contraire aussi bons anatomistes que bons peintres. Us repre'sentaient merveilleuse- ment bien les modeles qu'ils avaient sous les yeux, mais il e"tait rare qu'ils imaginerent rien au dela ; ils suivaient exactement la nature, tandis que Raphael cherchait mieux qu'elle.' In the same way, says Tocqueville, 4 men formerly wrote poems on gods and heroes, but in the eighteenth century descriptive poetry first arose. On the French stage there was no more yearning after the past ; no more instances of the stern patriotism of Les Horaces ; of the clemency of Augustus, or the crimes of Cinna. These were left to an age which loved the past. But it was not till after 1750 that common life was represented. Tocqueville 5 well observes that in the reign of Louis XIV. the dramatic writers paid too much attention to those beauties which are observed in the closet, but which escape attention on the stage. But afterwards the style became careless, because plays were written to be seen by the people and not read by scholars. Indeed, I think it was only after 1750 that prose was first introduced on the stage. Our most popular artists are Hogarth and Wilkie, not Reynolds, who was too ideal for our democratic habits, and would have suited Italy. David sacrificed idea to anatomical correctness. In the hands of Colardeau and Delille and Saint-Lambert, poetry became descriptive. Observe the democratic minuteness of the Dutch painters. Of the famous statue of Voltaire erected by Pigale in 1772, Morellet says, 6 'Pigale, pour montrer son savoir 1 Wahrheit und Dichtung, in Gothe's Werke, Band ii. Theil ii. p. 154. Bonn's Translation, vol. i. p. 423. * Lacr&elle, Dix-huitieme Siecle, tome iii. p. 328. Respecting Beaumarchais and Figaro, see I^icrdtelle, Dix-huitteme Siecle, tome iii. pp. 236, 237. "> Democratic en Amerique, tome iv. pp. 82, 83. 4 Ibid. p. 116. 5 Ibid. pp. 130, 131. 6 Me"moires, tome i. p. 193. 320 FRAGMENTS en anatomic, a fait un vieillard nu et decharne, un squelette, defaut a peine rachete" par la verite" et la vie que Ton admire dans la physionomie et 1'attitude du vieillard.' CLASSICAL SCHOOL. VOLTAIRE knew little of Latin and scarcely anything of Greek literature, and even Barthelemy has made many mistakes. Schlegel pours out his wrath upon Voltaire for misunderstanding Aristophanes. Arnold ' well observes how natural it is to ignorant and vain men to undervalue the age in which they live ; ' our personal superiority seems much more advanced by decrying our contemporaries than by decrying our fathers. The dead are not our real rivals, nor is pride very much gratified by asserting a superiority over those who cannot deny it. ... It is far more tempting to personal vanity to think ourselves the only wise amongst a generation of fools than to glory in belonging to a wise generation, where our personal wisdom, be it what it may, can- not at least have the distinction of singularity.' The travels of Anacharsis perhaps formed the only exception [to the indifference in the eighteenth century in France to the classical school]; but even of these Villemain truly says, 2 'Les moeurs parisiennes, le bel esprit fra^ais, la societe ani- me'e, ingenieuse, du dix-huitieme siecle, preoccupaient Barthelemy, et se reflechissaient involontairement dans ses tableaux.' Even such as it was, it was too learned to be successful, and Horace Walpole says that it was little read in Paris ; 3 but we learn from Grimm 4 that great things were expected even before it was published, and that the first edition was sold out in less than two months. SCEPTICISM. BAYLE, who was born in 1647, first disturbed the theological dominion of Bossuet, and the authority of the classical literature. 5 1 Lectures on Modern History, Lond. 1843, p. 88. 3 Litterature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome iii. p. 286. 3 Walpole's Letters to the Countess of Ossory, 8vo, 1848, vol. ii. p. 396. * Correspondance litte"raire, tome xvi. p. 135. s See Villemain, Litterature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome i. p. 3 ; tome ii. p. 31. SCEPTICISM 321 Then came, secondly, Fontenelle, whose Histoire des Oracles and Les Mondes made him ' le pre"curseur de Voltaire.' 1 Bayle, whose mere learning has perhaps been overrated, was a man whose singular subtlety of mind was admirably calculated to make him the founder of that sceptical school which began the great work of philosophic criticism. Most competent people will, I suppose, agree with Gibbon that Le Clerc was more learned than Bayle. 2 In England scepticism made no head. Such men as Toland and Tindal, Collins, Shaftesbury, Woolaston, were no match for Clarke, Warburton, and Lardner. They could make no head until the time of Middleton. The works of Hume, though written in a style which has never been surpassed, could hardly find a dozen readers. The immortal work of Gibbon, of which the sagacity is, if possible, equal to the learning, did find readers, but the illustrious author was so cruelly [reviled] by men who called themselves Christians, that it seemed doubtful if, after such an example, subsequent writers would hazard their comfort and happiness by attempting to write philosophic history. . . . Mead, I think, wrote on demons. . . . In 1736 the celebrated Dr. Stukely published the first part of his Paleographica Sacra, in which he undertakes to show that all heathen mythology is derived from the Bible. After Bacon, the sceptical Lord Herbert of Cherbury was our best historian. Read Hardouin. Middleton wrote in 1750 to Lord Radnor respecting his work on miracles, to the effect that if he had received some good ap- pointment in the Church, he would never have given the clergy any trouble. 3 As long as the theological spirit was alive nothing could be effected. Thus, for instance, Campanella quotes the Fathers against Aristotle, and he indignantly applies to the com- mentators of that great man the words ' Habent Aristotelem pro Christo, Averroem pro Petro, Alexandrum pro Paulo.' 4 In that exceedingly silly periodical, the Quarterly Review, there i Villemain, Literature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome i. p. 5. * Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, p. 437. 3 Whiston's MS., quoted in Nichols's Literary Anecdotes of Eighteenth Century, vol. v. p. 700. * Rdnouvier, Philosophic moderne, 1843, p. 27. VOL. I. Y 322 FRAGMENTS was published a few years ago an angry attack upon Robertson Blair, and other eminent Scotchmen of the eighteenth century, for their liberality, in which the Christian critic calls them ' betrayers of their Lord.' Lord Brougham has taken the unnecessary pains of answering this foolish critic. l It is said in the Penny Cyclopaedia (article Astrology) that in consequence of a prediction by Stceffler, that in 1524 there would be a universal deluge, all Europe was in an agony of fear, and ' Voltaire mentions a doctor of Toulouse who made an ark for him- self and his friends.' At the birth of Louis XIV., his mother had in her room the astrologer Morin to take his horoscope. 2 POLITICAL ECONOMY IN FRANCE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. BEFORE giving an account of political economy, relate the demo- cratic tendencies, then say that these tendencies were furthered by political economy, which proved that a man is the best judge of his own interest. Segur 3 says that before this [the publication of Necker's Compte Rendu] the nation had never paid any attention to the expenses of government. Segur 4 says that in 1781 the court ' defendait aux journaux de prononcer le nom de M. Necker.' Segur 5 mentions the great success of Necker's Administration des Finances. M'Culloch 6 says (I think} that Quesnai was the first who attempted to make political economy a science. Voltaire never dared to meddle with politics, and had no notion of political economy. In Essai sur les Mceurs, xvii. p. 298, he charges nun- neries with what in truth is one of their great recommendations, viz., that they keep down population. Colbert forbad the exporta- tion of corn ; a prohibition which Voltaire defends. 7 He praises Louis XIV. for his endeavours to increase population by en- couraging marriage 8 ; and 9 he says that the profusion of Louis XIV., by encouraging trade, increased the wealth of France. See 1 Brougham's Men of Letters and Science, vol. i. pp. 254, 255. 2 See Siecle de Louis XIV. in CEuvres de Voltaire, tome xx. p. 174. 3 Memoires, tome i. p. 220. 4 Ibid. p. 252. 5 Ibid, tome ii. pp. 56, 57. 6 Political Economy, 8vo, 1843, p. 44. 7 Fragments sur 1'Histoire, article xix. CEuvres, tome xxvii. p. 273. 8 Ibid, tome xx. p. 241. 9 Ibid. p. 278. POLITICAL ECONOMY IN FRANCE 323 also p. 239, where he expresses his admiration of Colbert. Necker was called to power in 1776. His plan of finance was not so much to tax as to borrow : and this, says Mignet, 1 entailed the necessity of publishing accounts of finances, because where there is a mystery there can be no credit. In 1781 Necker was dismissed, because he published a Compte Rendu, that is, informed the people of what was done with their own money. 2 In 1770, Galiani's Dialogues sur le Commerce des file's caused great excitement in Paris. 3 Even Lavoisier studied political economy. In 1 7 7 1 , Voltaire writes, 4 ' Le ministere est trop occupe des parlements pour songer a perse"cuter les dissidents de France.' D'Argenson, in 1755, in a paper read before the Academy, observes that none of the modern writers had ventured to interfere with political questions, which he recommended that they should do. 8 In 1773, Voltaire 6 was angry with the econo- mists for attacking ' le grand Colbert.' In March 1789, Jefferson writes from Paris that within two years the French had changed their character, and become grave and political. 1 The well-known Duke de Richelieu boasted that he had always prevented the ' economistes ' and ' philosophes ' from entering the French Academy, 8 but this was soon changed. 9 Georgel, a bitter enemy of Necker, confesses that, during his first ministry he was the idol of the people. Dupontand Roubaud were economists. 10 The Prince de Montbarey u mentions the popu- larity of Necker's Memoire sur le Commerce des file's. LavalleV 2 says that Necker published the Compte Rendu because he found that publicity was the great cause of English credit. Lavalle"e adds that this was the first instance (1781) of the public knowing anything about receipts. In 1764, Terray allowed the exportation of grain, 'arret motiv sur les doctrines des Economistes.' 15 80,000 copies of Necker's Administration des Finances were sold. 14 1 Revolution, tome i. p. 20. 3 Lavallee, Hist, de France, tome iii. p. 510. Beccaria, Genovesi, Filangieri. Galiani. 3 CEuvres de Voltaire, tome Iv. p. 138. 4 Ibid, tome Ixvii. p. 445. 5 Memoires de 1' Academic, tome xxviii. pp. 640, 641, 643. 6 CEuvres, tome Ixviii. p. 293. 7 Tucker's Life of Jefferson, vol. i. pp. 302, 303. 8 Souvenirs de Crequy, tome iii. p. 297. 9 Ibid, tome iv. p. 249. 10 Georgel, Mdmoires, tome i. pp. 489, 490, 505 ; tome ii. p. 264. 11 Me'moires, tome ii. p. 242 ; see also tome iii. p. 122. 1S Tome iii. p. 510. 13 Sismondi, tome xxix. p. 405. 14 Ibid, tome xxx. p. 341. Y 2 324 FRAGMENTS RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION UNDER LOUIS XV. ... At the same time, the French government, which about the middle of the eighteenth century seems to have reached the maturity of its wickedness, allowed, if indeed it did not instigate, religious persecutions of so infamous a nature that they would not be believed if they were not attested by the documents of the courts, in which the sentences were passed. Some of these deserve to be related as characteristic of a state of society which the French Revolution for ever destroyed. In 1761, a young man, named Galas, was found strangled in his father's house at Toulouse. He had for some time been a prey to melancholy, and there was little doubt that in a moment of despair he had laid violent hands upon himself. But as he was a Protestant, the French authorities affected to believe that he had been murdered by his own father, in order to prevent his con- version to the Catholic faith. The elder Calas was therefore sum- moned before the court on this monstrous charge a charge not only unsupported by evidence, but full of the grossest improbabili- ties. The unhappy father brought forward ample proof of his well- known affection for the son he was accused of having murdered. It was shown that the deceased was in a state of mind likely to end in suicide : that the crime, if it had been committed, must have been known to a Catholic servant, by whom he was constantly accompanied ; and that, independently of these considerations, it was impossible for an infirm old man to strangle one who was young and active, and to do this without any disturbance being heard in the house. But all was in vain. The probability that a heretic would commit any crime was considered to outweigh every argument. The property of the family was confiscated ; the younger son of Calas was banished ; and Calas himself, in con- formity with a public judicial sentence, was broken on the wheel, protesting his innocence amid the tortures in which he died. In 1765, a wooden crucifix on the bridge of Abbeville was tound to have been injured apparently by blows from a sword. The bishop of Amiens as soon as he heard of this, formed with his clergy a solemn procession to the scene of the outrage ; and every exertion was made to discover its authors. At length two youths, named Barre" and D'Etallonde, were arrested. It was, THE JESUITS IN FRANCE 325 however, found impossible to prove that they had injured the crucifix, but there were witnesses ready to charge them with other offences. It was said that they had sung irreligious songs, that they had spoken unfavourably of the Eucharist, and that they had even passed before a procession of the clergy without taking off their hats. That which followed is a memorable lesson for those who wish to see the Church reinstated in her old authority. Barre, who was a boy of eighteen, D'Etallonde, who was scarcely sixteen, were sen- tenced to have their tongues torn out, to have their right hands cut off, and then to be burnt alive in a slow fire. Fortunately, D'Etallonde had in the meantime effected his escape into the Prussian territories, where he received the protection of Frederick the Great. Immense exertions were made to procure the pardon of Barre, but the king would not overlook an offence against the clergy, and the unfortunate boy was publicly burnt, the only miti- gation of the sentence being that he should be executed before the body was committed to the flames. THE JESUITS IN FRANCE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. i. THE destruction of the Jesuits begun by Pascal was completed by Voltaire. ' Their abolition caused immense sensation. 2. The Jesuits were the great defenders of order and ortho- doxy ; but they had lost their abilities, and now stood in the way of progress. 2 3. In the great age of Louis XIIL, the Jesuits had been attacked by Pascal and Arnauld. 4. Louis XV. loved the Jesuits ; 3 and even the Pope allowed that they were suppressed contrary to his wishes. 4 The Dauphin favoured them. 8 5. About 1761, Berryer, 'Ministre dela Marine, grand ennemi des Jesuites.' 6 6. The Jesuits always aided the League against Henry IV. 7 1 See CEuvres de Voltaire, tome Ixii. p. 278. 2 Ranke's Papste, vol. iii. pp. 194, 195. 3 Georgel, M^moires, tome i. p. 46. * Flassan, Diplomatic, tome vi. p. 506. 5 Georgel, tome i. p. 6r. 6 Ibid. p. 49. 7 Gr^goire, Histoire des Confesseurs, p. 303. 326 FRAGMENTS Chatel, a Jesuit, tried to kill him ; l and Ravaillac did kill him, as was believed, with the privity of the Jesuits. 2 Under Louis XIV. the Jesuits reigned supreme, and La Chaise and Le Tellier enjoyed the disposal of all ecclesiastical patronage. They were his confessors for forty years. La Chaise persecuted the Port Royalists, and Le Tellier destroyed them. Gregoire 3 quotes from the Lettres d'Arnaud two anecdotes characteristic of Louis XIV. 's confessors. Louis XIV. compelled members of his family to take Jesuits as confessors. Directly Louis XIV. died, Le Tellier was exiled, and when he died, the Academy, contrary to custom, did not eulogise him. 4 JANSENISM AMONG CLERGY AND EVEN STATESMEN. i. DIRECTLY the States-General assembled in May 1789, ' Le plus grand nombre des cures ' voted against the upper clergy and in favour of all the orders verifying their powers in the same chamber. 5 Georgel adds, 6 'La majorite du clerg fut pour la reunion au tiers-e"tat, et la tres grande majorite de la noblesse fut d'un avis contraire.' 2. The Abbe Maury, the ablest among the clergy, was a bad man. 7 3. I think the ' canoniste ' Hericourt opposed ecclesiastical pretensions. 8 4. It was on the motion of one of the clergy in 1789 that tithes were abolished. 9 In March 1790 it was ordered that the property of the clergy should be sold. 10 The cohesion caused by the amalgamation of ranks settled into clubs, by which democracy has been aided in every country. 1 Gregoire, Histoire des Confesseurs, pp. 316, 318. 2 Ibid. pp. 324, 325. 5 Ibid. pp. 357, 358. 4 Ibid. p. 379. 5 Georgel, tome ii. p. 326. 6 Ibid. p. 329. 7 See Lamartine, Hist, des Girondins, tome i. p. 32. 8 See Gre'goire, Histoire des Confesseurs, pp. 113, 116. 9 Georgel, Me"moires, tome ii. p. 406. 10 Ibid, tome iii. part ii. p. 198. CHARACTER OF LOUIS XVI. 327 THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT ATTACKED CLERGY. i. IN 1756, the court, favouring the parliament, exiled some bishops and archbishops. 1 2. In 1765, there appears to have been an idea of doing away with the assemblies of the clergy. 2 3. In 1767, some edicts in favour of tradesmen attacked the Church. 3 4. Crequy 4 indignantly says that the Baron de Breteuil in a circular letter, ordered the bishops to reside in their dioceses. 5. In 1752, the archbishop of Paris forbad dying persons to receive the sacrament unless they had a certificate of confession, signed by a Molinist priest. Parliament replied by seizing the tem- poralities of the archbishop, and the king ordered him into exile. 5 9. On October 27, 1787, was issued ' 1'irr^ligieux e"dit' of tolerance in favour of ' des non-catholiques ; ' and this was chiefly done by the Baron de Breteuil and Cardinal de Brienne. 6 CHARACTER OF LOUIS XVI. MARIE ANTOINETTE was an imperious and violent woman, full of personal caprices, and whose morals were doubtful; and if she were not unchaste, the report of it produced the same effect on the people as if she were. She was very ignorant, and her beauty has been exaggerated. Lavallee 7 says that after the death of Maurepas she became the ' sole councillor.' It was under these circumstances that Louis XVI. came to the throne. This feeble and amiable man had received the worst possible education, having been brought up by a courtier and a Jesuit. 8 His great amusements were carpentering and putting in lotteries. 9 1 Sismondi, tome xxix. pp. 39, 98. * Le Long, Bibliotheque historique, tome iv. p. 298. 3 Voltaire, CEuvres, tome Ixvi. pp. 53, 54. 4 Souvenirs, tome v. pp. 224, 226. 5 Lavalle"e, tome iii. pp. 409, 410. 6 Georgel, Me"moires, tome ii. pp. 293, 294. 7 Tome iii. p. 510. 8 Continuation de Sismondi, tome xxx. pp. 13, 14. 9 Ibid. pp. 274, 277 ; and see Alison's Europe, vol. i. p. 245. 328 FRAGMENTS As soon as he came to the throne he refused to call to the ministry Choiseul, who had destroyed the Jesuits. He rejected Machault, and put at the head of affairs Maurepas, a feeble and frivolous man, who was supported by the Jesuits. 1 He, like Charles L, resisted the age, and like him he perished ; but he was a .good man, Charles a bad one : both were ruled by ambitious wives. The age was sceptical, and the prince was superstitious. He is a striking instance of the inutility and helplessness of benevolence when it is not guided by intellect. His tardy reforms showed his weakness. M. Rene'e 2 happily says that Louis XVI. ' n'avait pas la jalousie des hommes plus grands que lui, mais en avait promptement la fatigue.' Necker and Turgot, the only two statesmen, were disgraced. Directly on the accession of Louis XVI., Maurepas, not the king, called Turgot to the finances; 3 but Renee says 4 that in 1774 the king, contrary to the wish of Maurepas, gave him the controller- ship. In 1774, Turgot induced Maurepas to bring into the council Malesherbes, a very liberal man. But in 1776 the king dismissed Turgot with insult. 5 A letter Turgot wrote him was returned unopened; 6 and he was succeeded as controller-general by the miserable Clugny. 7 In 1776, Necker was made controller-general in the place of Clugny, but was, on account of being a Protestant, only called director-general. He was a great financier. 8 He, in 1781, deter- mined not to possess responsibility without control ; he demanded admission into the council, which he was told would be granted to him if he would abjure his religion. Upon [this] he indig- nantly sent in his resignation, to the universal regret of the country. 9 Necker was succeeded in 1781 by an ignorant man, Joly de Fleury. 10 Fleury was in 1783 succeeded by another fool, Ormesson- In 1783, the controllership was taken from Ormesson, and given to Calonne. 11 In April 1787, Calonne was succeeded by the 1 Sismondi, tome xxx. pp. 20, 22, 24 ; and Lavaltee, tome iii. p. 493. 2 Continuation de Sismondi, tome xxx. p. 232. 3 Lavalle'e, tome iii. p. 493. 4 Sismondi, tome xxx. p. 31. 5 Ibid. pp. 56, 58, 87, 332. 6 Georgel, Mem. tome i. p. 450. 7 Sismondi, tome xxx. 90, 91, 236 ; Lavallee, tome iii. p. 496. 6 Ibid. pp. 98, 114, 115, 120, 412, 413. 9 Ibid. pp. 127, 128. 10 Ibid. pp. 235, 236, 240. 11 Ibid. pp. 241, 287, 290 ; Lavallee, tome iii. p. 511. CHARACTER OF LOUIS XVI. 329 cardinal Lomenie de Brienne, a still weaker man. 1 The indig- nation against Brienne became so great that in August 1788 he resigned, and, by his advice, Necker was called in. 2 Directly Louis XVI. came to the throne, Maurepas made Ver- gennes Minister for Foreign Affairs. 3 Vergennes was a selfish man, and procured in 1781 the dismissal of Necker. 4 In two years, 1774 to 1776, Turgot effected the most wonderful reforms. See the list in Lavalle'e, iii. 494, 495. Ma!esherbes, minister and friend of Turgot, wished, by re-establishing the Edict of Nantes, to tolerate the Protestants, who[m] the king swore to exterminate. But he could not, and resigned before Turgot. 5 Under these circumstances the Government should, like ours, have con- ceded ; but instead of this, Louis XV. was a selfish prodigal. Then give an account of his vices and etiquette. Then came Louis XVI., a fool. Lavallee 6 says that as men became more democratic, the pride of the court was more offensive. Absurd etiquette in I783. 7 It was a cloud not bigger than a man's hand which swelled till it deluged the world. It was the small still voice which preceded the roar of the tempest. At a most critical moment when, in 1788, the state was nearly bankrupt, Necker made his immense private fortune responsible. 8 After the American Revolution, there took place in France a movement precisely similar to that which I have traced in the Church. It was necessary that the Church should fall, because men mistook the Church for religion. In the same [way] it was necessary government should fall, because men mistook kings for government, and, as Lamartine says, personified in them all evils. And political knowledge had weakened the respect for royalty, just as scientific knowledge had weakened the respect for the Church. We, not being prejudiced, could punish our kings without exciting our passions ; but in France in the eighteenth century, the prejudices were so old that madness was needed to remove them. This madness was supplied by foreign powers. We have not feared to strike our kings, and we would not fear to strike them again. (Junius, at the end of his letter to the 1 Lavall^e, tome iii. p. 514. * Ibid. p. 518. 5 Ibid. p. 493. 4 Rente's Sismondi, tome xxx. pp. 233, 234. 5 Lavallee, tome iii. p. 495. Ibid, p 512. 7 Crequy, Souvenirs, tome iii. pp. 19, 154. 8 Continuation de Sismondi, tome xxx. p. 429. 330 FRAGMENTS king, expresses the general feeling, and compare Laing's Sweden, pp. 408, 409.) Louis XVI. was the first instance for centuries in which a good man had been seen on the throne of France, and this made violent measures necessary. When Louis refused to sanction the decree ' sur les pretres non assermentes,' Dumouriez in vain told him that the priests would be massacred, and that, instead of saving religion, he would destroy it. 1 He was obstinate, and he dismissed first Roland and then Dumouriez. 2 Lamartine 3 observes that the first Assembly ought at once to have declared a Republic. When, on June 20, 1792, a mob under Santerre broke into the palace, the people still loved the king enough to be indig- nant. 4 Lamartine says 5 that the Girondins, and in particular Vergniaud, were the real authors of the death of the king. We in England sentenced our king to die in a solemn court of high commission, with all the forms, appliances, and paraphernalia of justice. They in France, tempted by a brutal and besotted mob, inflicted the last penalty on an innocent king, whose only fault was his situation, and whose only crime was that he followed a long line of corrupt ancestors. Spurred on by the refuse and offal of the nation, he fell ; while with us the hostility to Charles I. came, not from below, but from above. Lamartine 6 says that even at the last moment the people did not wish Louis XVI. to be executed. The American democracy was not bloody, for the people never loved kings, and the educated men of the south headed the rebel- lion. The leaders of our revolution met their king in the field, and having discomfited him there, they carried him to the block. The French had been brutalised by slavery to an extent which those who know them at the present day can hardly believe. 7 Even in December 1791, Louis XVI. was playing a double game. See his letter to the King of Prussia in Lamartine, Hist, des Girondins, i. 228, 229. FRENCH REVOLUTION. BEFORE the Revolution a long peace (?) had turned men from war to politics. In 1789, the Abbe Maury, the ablest orator among the clergy, was a bad man. 1 Lamartine, tome ii. pp. 225, 228. * Ibid. p. 253. 3 Ibid, tome i. pp. 305, 323. 4 Ibid, tome iii. pp. 2, 3. 5 Ibid, tome v. pp. 47, 48, 53. 6 Ibid. p. 75. 7 Ibid, tome i. p. 32. FRENCH REVOLUTION 33! When the alteration of dress was introduced, the cohesion of society was increased by the amalgamation of ranks, and the cohesion settled into the institution of clubs. Lamartine ' observes that in 1791, the clergy and nobles selfishly abandoned the king, and the nobles fled. In the hands of Diderot the stage first represented common life, just as the republican Dutch painters do. And common dress on the stage. There was no selection. Everything equally important. Tragedies in prose, and theatre declined. Ducis, Beaumarchais, and La Harpe. On Louis XV. 's love of open vice, quote the biting remarks in Lamartine. 2 The vices of Louis XV. were slowly producing an effect equal to that produced by the vices of our Charles II. Alison says that Maurepas, whom Louis XVI. at his accession chose for prime minister, ' was overthrown by the selfish opposition of the nobles,' but Mignet 3 says that Maurepas was a mere courtier. Malesherbes was called in by Maurepas, and he helped to establish liberty of commerce. Necker, a Protestant and Calvinist, 4 was called to power in 1776. His plan of finance was not so much to tax as to borrou*, and this, as Mignet says, entailed the necessity of publishing an account of the finances, because where there is mystery there can be no credit. The clergy, who were now becoming Calvinistic, demanded the Assembly of the Third Estate ; and Necker demanded an order that when the clergy assembled the cure's should be admitted, who had a majority of 208 against 48 bishops and 35 abbe's or deacons. 5 NOTES FOR FRENCH REVOLUTION. A DETAILED, but prejudiced account of Voltaire's last visit to Paris in 1778, and death, is given in Souvenirs de la Marquise de Crequy, tome v. p. 5-40. The king refused, however, to see him, and said that it was indulgence enough that he was allowed to come to Paris, p. 14. i VoL i. pp. 48, 49. * Vol. vii. p. 200. 5 Mignet, vol. i. pp. 16, 17. 4 Ibid. vol. i. pp. 18, 19. 5 Ibid. voL i. pp. 33, 34. 332 FRAGMENTS Madame de Crequy 1 gives some interesting but too favourable details of Rousseau. When Voltaire heard that Moncrif was made historiographe, he called him ' historiogriffe.' 2 On Me"moires de Bachaumont, see Souvenirs de Crequy, tome iv. p. 157. For a very amusing, but, I think, exaggerated account of Madame Necker, see Souvenirs de Crequy, iv. pp. 168-182. Crequy 3 says Maurepas had little religion, though honest ; but that to him and to his devotion for Necker are to be ascribed the French Revolution. On the extent to which the revolutionary spirit under Louis XVI. seized all the departments of literature, see the very curious remarks in Souvenirs de Crequy, tome iv. chap, xi., and particularly p. 253. Madame [de] Crequy says 4 ' dans la classe bourgeoise, oil 1'incredulite moderne et la vanitd philosophique avaient fait un ravage affreux.' See also Georgel, Me"moires, ii. 231, 232. Here we see the difference. In England the upper classes became sceptical ; in France, never. A whimsical description of Franklin is given by the Marquise de Crequy, who, of course, was quite unable to understand his merits. 5 For evidence of the hostility of the French clergy to the great movement even in 1782, see Crequy, Souvenirs, iv. 261-268. Crequy says 6 that Necker published his Compte Rendu without the king's consent. The Marquise de Crequy 7 has a very characteristic remark on Mirabeau's eloquence. Swinburne, who was in Paris when Louis XV. died, mentions the joy of the people. 8 On July i, 1789, fifteen days before the dismissal of Necker, Mr. Swinburne writes from Versailles, ' Necker is very popular, and makes up to the Tiers Etat. Being a Calvinist, he has a horror of the French clergy, and being of low origin naturally dislikes the nobles.' 9 Swinburne, who was in Paris in 1796, mentions some striking instances of the facility with which divorces were procured, 10 and the same thing in 1793 is noticed in Burke's Works, ii. 298. In 1796 murders were most common in Paris. 11 On June 7, 1797, Swinburne, who was in Paris officially, writes, 12 1 Souvenirs, vol. iii. 307, 310. 2 Souvenirs de Crequy, vol. iv. 150. 5 Souvenirs, tome iv. pp. 210, 211. 4 Ibid, tome vi. p. 29. 5 Ibid, tome iv. pp. 258, 260. 6 Ibid, tome v. p. 34. 7 Ibid, tome vi. p. 77. 8 Courts of Europe, vol. i. p. 23. 9 Swinburne's Courts of Europe, vol. ii. p. 81. 10 Ibid. pp. 143, 144. ll Ibid. pp. 150, 157. '- Ibid. p. 247. NOTES FOR FRENCH REVOLUTION 333 * Everything now seems to take a turn towards tranquillity and sociableness.' At Calais, in November 1796, 'Sunday is observed here; for nobody will have anything to say to Decades ; ' and ' a great apathy, despair, or indifference, seems to have got the better of all the French.' ' Madame Roland Lamartine * has given a strikingly beautiful account of this wonderful woman. Coleridge 3 says the Revolution was a national act. For a disgraceful anecdote of the French painter David on August 10, 1792, see Lamartine's Girondins, tome iii. p. 136. Robespierre, the most sincere man of his time. 4 For an account of Louvet, author of Faublas, see Lamartine, tome iv. pp. 145-148. Lamartine 5 says that Louis XV., even at his accession, could not save the throne. Difference between seditions and revolution. 6 Flassan says, 7 ' Rien n'dtait moins philosophe que M. Maurepas.' Flassan quietly says 8 that Cardinal de Brienne ' avait e"te" plus heureux pour sa propre fortune que pour celle de 1'etat.' The declaration of Pilnitz, August 27, 1791, is in Flassan, Diplom. frangaise, vii. 482, 483. When Louis XV. made an infamous prostitute his public mistress, even Georgel 9 says all Paris murmured. Even Georgel says 10 that no one wept at the death of Louis XV. Even Georgel n allows that the ' Feuillans ' were a moderate party. Even Georgel, who could hardly ever see anything wrong in his own faction, gently blames the Emigrants. 1 - And so does the Prince de Montbarey. 13 Georgel u accuses the Girondins of being privy to the massacre of September 2, 1792. The Emigrants, burning with hatred against their country, stirred up foreign princes to war. Even Georgel 15 confesses that the Revolutionists were strengthened by the treaty of Pilnitz. Frederick William of Prussia swore at Coblentz never to lay down his arms until ' PEglise de France aurait recouvre son lustre, et la monarchic fran9aise toute sa puissance et sa majeste.' 16 See at tome iii. p. 401 the impudent remarks of Georgel on the imprisonment of La Fayette. Georgel n says that August 10 and the crimes of September were 1 Swinburne's Courts of Europe, voL ii. pp. 116, 117. * Girondins, tome ii. pp. 3, 38. 3 The Friend, i. 246. 4 Lamartine, tome iv. p. 87. 5 Tome i. p. 25. 6 Ibid. p. 30. 7 Diplomatic franfaise. tome vii. p. 115. 8 Ibid. p. 463. 9 M&noires, tome i. p. 176. 10 Ibid. p. 300. " Ibid. ii. p. 496. l * Ibid, tome iii. pp. 286, 302. ' 3 Mdmoires de Montbarey, p. 229. 14 Georgel, Memoires, p. 339. 15 Ibid. p. 443. IH Ibid. p. 445. 17 Ibid. p. 463. 334 FRAGMENTS caused by the presence in the French country of the Duke of Bruns- wick's army. See also tome v. p. 46. Georgel l says that on the trial of Louis XVI. the Girondins wished to prolong the process in order to destroy both him and the Jacobins. Even in Paris the execution of Louis XVI. was un- popular. 3 Georgel 3 with unusual candour says that the attacks made on France were caused by the personal fears of kings lest they should suffer the fate of Louis XVI. I do not know the authority for the horrid list of the crimes of the Revolution in Georgel, iv. 33, 331. Gregoire 4 says of Louis XV., ' ses liaisons incestueuses avec La Chateauroux et ses soeurs.' Edgeworth declares that he never said ' Son of St. Louis, mount to heaven.' See Gregoire, Hist, des Con- fesseurs, p. 403. The Prince de Montbarey 5 says that a few years before, the sup- pression of the Jesuits would have been believed impossible. Mont- barey 6 supposes the Cardinal de Bernis privy to the abolition of the Jesuits. The Prince de Montbarey, an eye-witness, says, that in 1756 the Marquise de Pompadour was supreme, and women of the highest rank obliged to court her. 7 The Prince de Montbarey, in two re- markable passages, 8 says that by the end of the reign of Louis XV. the works of Voltaire and Rousseau were universally read. Mont- barey 9 says that the Archbishop of Toulouse (Brienne ?) and the Archbishop of Sens were both lovers of the ' philosophical party.' Read Voltaire's Louis XV. Sismondi (xxix. 289) thinks Voltaire first introduced inoculation in France. Georgel 10 says that Breteuil had great influence on the Queen, and prejudiced her against the Emigrants. Even the violent Jacobins were mostly educated men. See Alison, Hist, of Europe, ii. 130, 131, 218. INFLUENCE OF ENGLAND AND COALITION ON FRANCE. EVEN Robespierre at first wished to abolish the penalty of death. 11 Directly after the unsuccessful flight of Louis XVI. in 1791, the Marquis de Bouille writes to say, that if a hair of the head of the king was injured, there should not be left a stone in Paris. ' I 1 Georgel, Me'moires, tome iv. p. 194. - Ibid. p. 279. 5 Ibid. p. 289. 4 Histoire des Confesseurs, p. 394. 5 Me'moires, tome i. p. 212. 8 Ibid. p. 209. 7 Ibid. pp. 140, 142, 159. 8 Ibid. iii. pp. 95, 108. 9 Ibid. pp. 144, 206, 337. 10 Georgel, Meinoires, tome iii. 106. n Lamartine, Gir ndins, tome i. p. 52. ENGLAND INTERFERING WITH FRENCH REVOLUTION 335 know the roads,' said the traitor, 'and I will lead the foreign armies.' l In 1794, the English were accused of arming an assassin against the life of Robespierre. 2 The circumstances connected with the fall of Robespierre are the worst part of Lamartine's book. He says 3 that the Reign of Terror would have ceased if Robes- pierre had not fallen. CONSEQUENCE OF ENGLAND INTERFERING WITH THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. IF foreigners had not interfered, the French Revolution would have been milder, for the Girondists would not have fallen. The war declared by England injured us, but it almost ruined France. By increasing the violence of the Revolution it increased the violence of the reaction, and secured the despotism of Napoleon. The interference of England made the Revolution permanent by turning a social dispute into a national quarrel. See for evidence of the peculiar hatred against England, Alison, iii. pp. 154, 279, 432, and in particular pp. 632, 633 ; vi. 225, 226. Indeed, the hatred was natural when the French found they were opposed by the freest country on the earth, a country from which they had derived the inspirations of their own liberty. The result was, that everything became more violent Christianity was publicly abolished. 4 Rousseau was succeeded by Marat 5 For the terri- ble crimes and loss of life during the Reign of Terror see Alison, iii. pp. 195, 209. At length the natural result followed. Anarchy was succeeded by despotism. The right of unlimited divorce was established ; marriage was turned into concubinage, and France became a brothel. The genius of France now became entirely military, and this partly in hatred of England, and partly from the destruction of all other employments. 6 In 1795 fell the club of the Jacobins; and, says Alison, 7 'public opinion daily pronounced itself more strongly in favour of humane measures.' Thus the despotism of Napoleon was unnecessary, and would 1 Lamartine, Girondins, tome i. p. 128. * Ibid, tomeviii. pp. 134, 137. 207. 3 Ibid. p. 270. 4 See the horrible details in Alison's Europe, vol. iii. pp. 178. 181. s Ibid. p. 185. 6 Ibid. pp. 404, 634 ; voL iv. p. 133 ; vol. viii. p. 415. ^ Ibid. pp. 585. 588. 336 FRAGMENTS not have happened but for the violence with which England attempted to force the Bourbons on France, and the military spirit which that violence created. In 1795, the Jacobins dis- appeared ; even dress became elegant ; the laws against the Girondists and Christianity were repealed ; even the faubourgs were disarmed ; and ' thus terminated the reign of the multitude.' 1 Everything showed the returning civilization of a great people ; and the Girondists swayed the Convention, which was supreme. 2 In 1792, when we first went to war, the 3 per cents, were 98 ; but in 1797, they were 51. The funds fell ; public credit was nearly destroyed ; the fleet mutinied in the midst of war. 3 In 1797, the hatred felt by the French against the English enabled the Jacobins to rally, and they re-established a military tyranny on the i8th Fructidor, which made the Directory supreme. 4 The real author of this revolution of i8th Fructidor was Napoleon ; 5 and this is ' the true era of the commencement of military despotism in France.' However, early in 1798, Napo- leon showed great anxiety ' to detach himself from the govern- ment, from his strong and growing aversion to the Jacobin party, which the revolution of the i8th Fructidor had placed at the head of the republic.' 6 In 1799, the military enthusiasm was dying away, but as England continued hostile, it was absolutely necessary to revive it, and to put a great general at the head of affairs. 7 How- ever, directly Napoleon was made First Consul he proposed peace, but England (A.D. 1799), in an insulting reply, proposed that France should restore the Bourbons. 8 The result was, as Alison confesses, 9 that in 1800, all the military enthusiasm which since 1793 had died away, was renewed. At length England had to pay the penalty of her crimes ; and in 1800 the whole of Europe, which she had stirred up against France, was now by Napoleon turned against herself. 10 About 1793, an order was issued by Robespierre forbidding quarter to be given to the English. 11 In 1803, Napoleon made a 1 See the horrible details in Alison's Europe, vol. iii. pp. 589, 590, 604, 605. 2 Ibid. p. 627. 3 Ibid. vol. iv. pp. 219, 233, 236. 4 Ibid. pp. 398, 404, 405. See also Georgel, Me"moires, tome v. pp. 415, 416. 5 Alison, vol. iv. p. 409. & Ibid. vol. iv. pp. 412, 558. 7 Ibid. vol. v. p. 165. 8 Ibid. pp. 165, 245, 247, 248. 9 Ibid. p. 280. 10 ibid. p. 505. 11 Pellew's Life of Lord Sidmouth, vol. i. p. 103. ENGLAND INTERFERING WITH FRENCH REVOLUTION 337 monstrous claim on us about Peltier. 1 If France had interfered with us in 1643, Charles II. would never have been restored. In September 1791, the king accepted the constitution, and all was cordiality between him and the Assembly ; 2 but now it was, says Lamartine, that the kings and aristocracies in Europe became afraid of their own interests. Coblentz now became the centre of their counter-revolutionary conspiracy. 3 And in August the emperor and Frederick William of Prussia arrived at Pilnitz. There was then issued a proclamation, ' qui fut la date d'une guerre de vingt-deux ans.' This was the declaration of Pilnitz, to which all the European courts except England in some degree acceded. Louis XVI. ordered the emigrants at Coblentz to disarm, which they refused to do, and in December 1791, the emperor declared he would aid them. 4 Directly the Legislative Assembly met in 1791, there was shown a reaction in favour of Louis XVI. 5 Robespierre, who continued to increase in power, did not wish for war, and therefore he quarrelled with the Giron- dins ; but it was in vain, for on December 21, the Emperor Leopold, by a declaration, increased the war party in the Assembly. And on February 7, 1792, an alliance was concluded against France between Austria and Prussia, and war was ready to break [out], when Leopold suddenly died. Now came military ascen- dency, and, says Lamartine, 6 Dumouriez was for two years supreme dictator in everything but the name. He tried to separate Prussia from Austria, but Francis I. was eager for war, and ' le prince de Kaunitz, son principal ministre, repondait aux notes de Dumouriez dans un langage qui portait le de"fi a PAssemble'e Nationale.' And on April 20, Louis XVI. found himself obliged to declare war against the emperor. 7 Before the duke of Bruns- wick's manifesto, and after the declaration of war, Louis XVI. in vain requested the emigrants not to attack their own country, France. 8 They determined to disobey him, and the duke of Brunswick issued that manifesto which, says Lamartine, left the French Revolution no alternative but submission or war. The hostilities now began in Belgium ' par des revers qu'on imputait 1 See Pellew's Life of Sidmouth, vol. ii. pp. 154, 157 ; and see p. 177 respecting the infamous detention of the English in 1803. - Lamartine, Hist des Girondins, tome i. pp. 196-199. 5 Ibid. pp. 205, 232. 4 Ibid. pp. 233-239. 5 Ibid. pp. 256, 259, 260. 6 Girondins, tome ii. pp. 40, 47, 50, 129, 149. ' Ibid. pp. 203-205. 8 Ibid. pp. 219, 220. VOL. I. Z 338 FRAGMENTS aux trahisons de la cour.' The military leaders were La Fayette, who was suspected, and the duke de Lauzun (called General Biron), said to be a lover of the queen. 1 (Early in the Revolution the nobles fled on the first alarm, and instilled their selfish fears into foreign courts. Frederick the Great and Joseph II. were re- cently dead.) Vergniaud, in one of his brilliant speeches in July 1792, asked how it was that at so great a crisis inexperienced men were placed at the head of French armies. 2 This complaint was the precursor of August io. 3 Then came the threats from La Vendee and from Lyons, where ' 1'esprit catholique et sacer- dotal ' was active.* It was now reported that La Fayette was about to march on Paris, and that the king had fled. 5 Then, on Au- gust 6, ' la nouvelle du massacre de quatre administrateurs con- sterna de nouveau 1'Assemblee.' 6 The power now fell into the hands of the lowest of the people ; and, on August io, 1792, the Assembly was no longer respected. Even then, instead of de- throning the king, they only provisionally suspended him. 7 On August n, the Assembly in which the Girondists were supreme, dissolved. It was inferior to the ' Assemblee Constituante,' its predecessor, and to the Convention, its successor. For, says Lamartine, 8 the first represented the intellect of thinking men, the last the energy of the masses, while the Legislative Assembly re- presented the intermediate and middle classes. And the meaning of the loth of August is, that the people made a great effort to save France. 9 At the end of August news reached Paris that La Fayette had fled ; that the allied army had entered France, that Longwy was taken, that Verdun had capitulated. The result was, that from the loth of August to the 2oth of September, was nothing but the dictatorship of Danton. Still, even Danton hesitated before he would give the signal for the crimes of Sep- tember. 10 After the massacres of September, the execution of the king was a very slight crime. Of these massacres a thrilling ac- count is given by Lamartine. 11 At length the storm ceased. The assassins, drunk with blood and fatigued with crimes, reposed from their labours. But after the battle of Valmy, Paris was in immi- 1 Girondins, tome ii. pp. 239, 240. 2 Ibid, tome iii. p. 26. 3 Ibid. p. 33. 4 Ibid. pp. 38, 39. 5 Ibid. pp. 67, 71. 6 Ibid. p. 72. 7 Ibid, tome iii. 165, 167, 170, 171. 8 Ibid. pp. 193, 194. 9 Ibid. pp. 196, 221. 10 Lamartine, Histoire des Girondins, tome iii. pp. 217, 223. 11 Ibid, tome iii. pp. 239-275. ENGLAND INTERFERING WITH FRENCH REVOLUTION 339 nent danger. Danton still wished to save the life of the king ; and the miserable prejudices of the Girondins in favour of an- tiquity prevented them seizing the idea of ' a Christian democracy ; ' and they had no conception of a republic that was not modelled on that of Rome. 1 After the bad days of September 1792, the Jacobins declined, and even Danton was tired of blood. And after the 2nd of Sep. tember, Robespierre no longer appeared at the sittings of the Commune. In October the municipal elections came on, and the moderate party triumphed over the Jacobins in nearly all the sections. 2 Even in the Convention the Jacobins trembled for their favourite Robespierre. Danton desired to save the life of the king, 3 but as Fonfrede wrote, 4 it was necessary to show courage. ' C'est au moment ou les potentats de 1'Europe se liguent centre nous que nous leur offrirons le spectacle d'un roi supplicie.' (At first, I believe a republic might have been established peaceably, as in 1848.) Directly Louis XVI. was deposed, Lord Gower, the English ambassador, was recalled ; and the moment the news of his execution reached London M. de Chauvelin was ordered to quit England in twenty-four hours. 5 Chauvelin, re- turning to Paris, said that the English were preparing to rise against Pitt and George III., and then France declared war against England and Holland. (The rupture between England and France was the more injurious, because Dumouriez had, I think, so beaten and intimidated Prussia and Austria as to dis- pose them for peace.) The day after the death of Louis XVI. Catherine concluded an offensive and defensive treaty with Eng- land. 6 The execution of Louis, like that of Charles, strengthened the moderate party. See the fine remarks in Lamartine's Gi- rondins, v. pp. 86, 87. In April, the Vendean war. In June the Girondists fell, but were not executed till October. Between March and September 1793, all Europe signed treaties against France. In August 1793, France was in the greatest danger from the allies. 7 At the end of 1792, Dumouriez was supreme, and he wished to save the king ; and Danton was weary of anarchy. After the execution of the king, famine was in the land. 8 By the issue 1 Lamartine, Hist, des Girondins, tome iv. pp. 32, 46, 64, 66. 3 Ibid. pp. 84, 85, 98, 137, 138. 3 Ibid. pp. 154, 177. 4 Tome iv. p. 179. 5 Lamartine, tomev. pp. 119, 120. B Ibid, tome v. p. 122. 7 Alison's Abridgment, pp. 52, 54, 56. 8 Lamartine, Girondins, vol. v. pp. 180, 183, 187, 224, Z 2 340 FRAGMENTS of paper money to carry on war with England, everything was thrown into confusion. On February 24, 1793, the people under Marat rose and plundered the rich, and a few days later came news of the move- ments at Lyons and La Vendee ; of the defeat of Custine in Germany, of the conspiracy of Dumouriez. Commissioners were now sent to the frontiers ; the theatres were shut, and the most anarchical proposals made ; and a committee of insurrection organised against the Girondins j 1 and a revolutionary tribunal formed. 2 Still Danton inclined towards the Girondins, but at length turned against them ; and this increased the audacity of the party of Marat. 3 The increasing success of the Vendeans and the threats of foreign generals strengthened the violent party. 4 Roland was now arrested by the Revolutionary Committee. 5 During three months after England declared war, the Girondists, last hope of their country, continued to struggle with the mob ; but in 1793 ' la journee du 2 Juin, qu'on appelle encore le 3 1 Mai, parce que la lutte dura trois jours, fut le 10 Aout de la Gironde.' This vio- lent step was necessary, for, says Lamartine, if the Girondists had continued to govern, France, already half- conquered by foreigners, would have been destroyed. 6 The energy of crime was wanted to defend the nation. The Girondins, however, were received at Caen, and General Wimpfen declared that he would march against Paris, 7 and the foreign relations of France were very threatening. Danton still wished for milder measures, and was horrified at the idea of executing Marie Antoinette. 8 There was now appointed the Committee of Public Safety the Decemvirat, which was supreme for fourteen months, and which now issued the celebrated decree raising all France against the enemy. Prices, &c. were now fixed, for, says Lamartine, ' en demandant au peuple toute son energie, la Convention se crut obligee d'accepter aussi ses emportements.' 9 The people cried out for pillage. 10 The revolutionary tribunals were now reorganised, and the prisons would scarcely hold the in- numerable captives. n Robespierre wished to save the queen, 12 and 1 Lamartine, Girondins, vol. v. pp. 230-237. 2 Ibid. pp. 241, 243. Vergniaud had large views of political rights, p. 247. 5 Ibid. pp. 256-267. 4 Ibid, tome vi. pp. 9, 10, 25, 64, 65, 70. 5 Ibid. p. 87. 6 Ibid. pp. 108-117. 7 Ibid. pp. 148, 149. 8 Ibid. pp. 202-211. 9 Ibid. pp. 221-233. 10 Ibid. pp. 234, 236. 11 Lamartine, Girondins, tome vi. pp. 240, 246, 247. 12 Ibid. p. 264. ENGLAND INTERFERING WITH FRENCH REVOLUTION 34! in October 1793, he tried to save the Girondins. 1 Robespierre, Danton, and even Marat, were not the leaders of the Revolution : they were merely the exponents of it. The Girondins who now fell had, says Lamartine, three great faults, ist. That they did not dare to proclaim a revolution before August 10, the day the Legis- lative Assembly opened. 2nd. That they conspired against the Constitution of 1791. 3rd. ' D 'avoir sous la Convention voulu gouverner quand il fallut combattre.' 2 The allied sovereigns of Europe answered a manifesto by an invasion, and a theory by a fact. How could it be expected that the old, withered, and effete aristocracies of Europe should furnish men able to struggle with a youthful republic soldiers fighting for pay against men who struggled for liberty ? ' Pourquoi,' says the greatest historian of these times, ' Pourquoi cette difference ? ' 3 The first great success of the French was at the battle of Wattignies. 4 Now first appeared Napoleon, Pichegru, and Hoche. The destruction of Lyons destroyed even in their cradle the resources of industry. After Lyons had surrendered, ' Les demolitions coutaient quinze millions pour aneantir une capitale de plus de trois cent millions de valeur en edifices.' 5 The nation was drunk with crime. At Lyons, in the midst of the massacres, jewels were worn shaped like the guillotine. 6 In the midst of this the civil war broke out at Toulon. At the beginning of 1794 ' La guillotine semblait etre la seule institution de la France.' 7 Lamartine says that the object of the new calendar was to destroy Catholicism; for France 'nevoulutpas que 1'Eglise continual a marquer au peuple les instants de son tra- vail ou de son repos.' 8 Immense numbers of the bishops and clergy now publicly renounced their religion, and declared that they had been carrying on a system of imposture. ' Cette abdica- tion du Catholicisme extdrieur par les pretres d'une nation entouree depuis tant de siecles de la puissance de ce culte, est un des actes les plus caractdristiques de 1'esprit de la Revolution.' 9 The scenes of blood were opposed by Danton. 10 Just before he was arrested, Robespierre was afraid to attack open crimes, but he did not hesitate to attack atheism ; and see his interesting speech in 1 Lamartine, Girondins, tome vii. pp. 5, 6. * Ibid. pp. 42, 43. 5 Ibid. p. 6r. 4 Ibid. p. 74. 5 Ibid. p. 136. 6 Ibid. p. 143. 7 Ibid. pp. 154, 206. 8 Ibid. p. 211, 9 Ibid. pp. 216, 219. 10 Ibid. p. 259 ; tome viii. p. 9. 34 2 FRAGMENTS favour of religion. 1 Robespierre was the most cruel man, because he was the most sincere. On the 3oth of March, 1794, Danton was arrested. 2 On the 2pth of July, 1794, Robespierre, St. -Just, Henriot, Couthon, Coffinhal, ' and all their party,' were executed. 3 The men who overthrew Robespierre were little better than he, but there was now (end of July, 1794) formed a party called Thermi- dorians, consisting of 'the moderates of all parties and the remnants of the Royalists.' They began by repealing the ' Law of Suspected Persons.' In September they closed the Jacobin Club, and finally in April 1795, tne y dispersed or imprisoned all the Jacobin leaders. 4 On June 17, 1795, says Alison, 5 ' The Revolutionary Tribunal itself was quietly suppressed by a simple decree. And thus ended the reign of the multitude six years after its establish- ment at the storm of the Bastile. The populace, now disarmed, took no share in the further changes of government, which were brought about by the middle classes and the army.' And now the government fell into its proper hands, into the hands of the middle classes, the legitimate source of power. From the States General to the Legislative Assembly, and from the Legislative Assembly to the Convention, the sources of power sunk lower and lower. Robes- pierre fell directly after the armies of France flourished. Lamar- tine 6 says that from May to July, 1794, there were most executions. Robespierre's speech in favour of religion in April 1794, is in Lamartine's Girondins. 7 FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. i. THE great work of Chateaubriand was published at London in 1796, and shows, says Villemain, 'combien, malgre 1'origi- nalite native de son esprit, il etait alors impregne" des idees et des sentiments de celui qu'il nommait le Grand Rousseau? 8 2. Thierry and Guizot first did justice to the middle ages. 3. The religious reaction had begun before Chateaubriand. Necker published his work, De ITmportance des Opinions re- ligieuses, and St. -Pierre took the same side. 9 And for some of St.- 1 Lamartine, Girondins, tome vii. pp. 260, 264. 2 Alison's Abridgment, p. 71. 3 Ibid. p. 75. 4 Ibid. pp. 92, 93. s ibid. p. 94. 6 Lamartine, Girondins, tome viii. p. 74. 7 Ibid. pp. 123, 128, 141. * Litterature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome ii. p. 303. 9 Tome iii. p. 395. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 343 Pierre's opinions, which, however, were revolutionary, see pp. 389, 391. Alison 1 , says Madame de Stael first laid down that there were only two epochs &?/? and after Christianity. 4. After the breaking out of the Revolution the love of anti- quity began to revive. This we find in Andr Chenier. 2 5. Napoleon, as Comte says, threw everything backward. Most of the literature was under his control. But there were some fiery spirits which he could not repress, and which laid the foundation of that brilliant literature which France now possesses. They were M. de Maistre and Madame de Stael. De Maistre was to theology what Napoleon was to politics. Struck with horror at the excesses of that Revolution which he had witnessed, his powerful but gloomy mind attempted to restore France to that mental slavery from which, since the death of Bossuet, she had been entirely free. It does not fall within the plan of this introduction to consider the character of his learned and eloquent works, but in another place I shall trace the influence which they have had in accelerating the progress of Puseyism. Madame de Stael in her great work on Literature asserted that in all its branches Liberty was most favourable to it. In this work she first asserted that during the middle ages man was progressive. 3 For this work Napoleon banished her forty leagues from Paris. It seemed likely that Napoleon would succeed in his infamous scheme of subjugating the intellect of Christendom. At this moment, and two centuries and a quarter after that memorable day on which Elizabeth had beaten the Armada from the shores of Britain, England again stepped forward and saved Europe from a tyranny even more dangerous than that of Philip. Madame de Stael constantly laboured to effect an alliance between philosophy and politics. This is one of her great merits, and one of which no subsequent discoveries can possibly deprive her. But she has a merit even greater than this. She was the first writer in Europe who to a philosophic, though perhaps too scanty knowledge of history, united a knowledge of that much higher philosophy which connects liberty with religion, and literature with devotion. This, which is the brightest aspect of modern literature, owes more to Madame de Stael than 1 Hist of Europe, vol. ix. p. 567. * See Villemain, Litt^rature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome iv. p. 303. 3 Ibid. p. 355. 344 FRAGMENTS to any other author with whose works I am acquainted. 1 In all her most matured writings, she is never weary of insisting on the great truth that a complete, fearless, unhesitating liberty of discussion is the condition under which true religion may be most expected to flourish. The success of her works was scarcely inferior to their merit. She prepared France for the reception of that still higher literature which it was now to borrow from a foreign land. 6. Even M. Villemain confesses his ignorance of German. 2 7. Ranke adopts what I may perhaps call the transcendental theory. Die Romischen Papste, i. 35, 441. At p. 273 he seems to hold the doctrine that history is a development over which individual genius can exercise little or no control. 8. ' L'e"cole e"cossaise etait, il y a quelques annees, profonde- ment ignored en France. Mon illustre predecesseur, M. Royer- Collard, en a le premier parle" dans 1'enseignement public.' 3 9. Sir J. Mackintosh 4 says, ' Long after the death of Dr. Reid, his philosophy was taught at Paris by M. Royer- Collar d.' Read Preface to Barante's Dues de Bourgogne for his artistic mode of writing history. 10. M. Barante does not allow enough to individual genius, and he even seems to adopt the theory of cycles. 5 11. Bonstetten was influenced by the Scotch and English school. 6 12. Damiron 7 says that Ancillon, in his Essais Philosophiques ou Nouveaux Melanges, has an Essay on the Philosophy of History. 13. There are three great French schools, ist. Of Sensation : Cabanis, Destutt de Tracy, Garat, and Volney. 2nd. Of Revela- tion : Maistre, Bonald, and Lamennais. 3rd. Eclecticism, or ' rational spiritualism.' 8 Sensualism proceeds from sensation, Catholicism from revelation, eclecticism from consciousness. 9 The Revolution of 1789 suspended all intellectual labours until 1794-5, when the end of the Convention and the establishment 1 Villemain, LitteYature au dix-huitieme Siecle, tome iv. p. 375. 2 Tome iii. p. 154. 5 Cousin, Histoire de la Philosophic, part i. tome iv. p. 25. 4 Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy, edit. Whewell, p. 318. 5 Barante, Tableau de la LitteYature, Paris, 1847, pp. 18-20. 6 See Damiron, Histoire de la Philosophic, tome ii. p. 74. '' Ibid. p. 83. 8 Ibid, tome i. p. n. 9 Ibid. p. 25. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 345 of the Director) 7 finished the movement towards liberty and began that towards civilization. 1 The new philosophy, which was essentially that of Condillac, was taught by Garat. The Institute organised by the Directory followed the same course, and then appeared the works of Cabanis, De Tracy, De Gerando, Maine de Biran, La Romiguiere, and Lancelin. 2 Everything was sensual until the first consul, hating metaphysics, banished them from the Institute. During this period, 1795 to 1803-4, there was hardly any opposition to sensualism ; for Bonald, who had not written metaphysically, had little influence. 3 Now came the reaction. Napoleon, who was essentially a superstitious man, was to French philosophy what the clergy had been to the Scotch philosophy. Under the emperor, sensualism, hated by Napoleon, whose mind was essentially synthetic, 4 considerably declined. The merit of the subsequent movement is due to Royer-Collard, from 1811 to i8i4. 5 After the Restoration metaphysics revived, and the theological school 6 was led by Chateaubriand, Bonald, De Lamennais, De Maistre, Eckstein, and Ballanche. At the same time rational spiritualism was advocated by Madame de Stael, who, in 1814, published her Germany, of which she had learnt the philosophy from Benjamin Constant, Schlegel, and Villers. She first made Kant generally known in France. 7 Cousin, who at first was only a commentator on Royer-Collard, soon added a knowledge of German to that of Scotch metaphysics, and from the two formed eclecticism. 8 In 1802, Cabanis published his Rapports du Physique et du Moral de l'Homme. His system was adopted by De Tracy, who is to metaphysics what Cabanis is to physiology. 9 This he did in his Ideology, 9 and what he was to metaphysics that was Volney to morals. Volney, in his Catechism, says that the greatest good is health and life. 10 The same system was adopted by Lancelin, an able author now little known. 11 Damiron 12 gives some account of Broussais' system, but having no knowledge of medicine (as he confesses at p. 165) he is very superficial. M. Ajais is of no particular school. 13 Ballanche, in his Institutions Sociales, works 1 Damiron, Hist, de la Philosophic, tome ii. p. 41. 2 Ibid. pp. 42, 43, 44. 3 Tome i. p. 49. * Ibid. p. 54. * Ibid. pp. 55, 56, 60. 6 Ibid. pp. 65-70. 7 Ibid. pp. 71, 72. 8 Ibid. p. 73. 9 Ibid. pp. 87, 99, TOO. 10 Ibid. pp. 117, 120. n Ibid. p. 150. 11 Ibid. pp. 162-205. l3 Ibid. p. 218. 346 FRAGMENTS out the idea of the development of the human mind. According to him, the mind is never old, but is living and perfectible. The primitive and divine tradition was first spoken, then spoken and written, and then spoken, written, and printed. In the same way there was first pure poetry, which was the spontaneous development of revealed truth, and as this only requires accent and words, writing would be unnecessary. But as thought develops itself, it becomes more material, and this gives rise to writing. When ideas get still more abundant, writing is found insufficient, men become impatient, and printing is invented. Thus the three forms of tradition are oral, written, and printed. In the first form it would have run great danger of corruption if it were not watched over by priests and poets and the admirable institution of castes. When it became written the danger was less, but still considerable, therefore although philosophers were untitled, priests and poets remained. Since printing, the danger is no more, and therefore the authority of priests, &c., diminishes. J Ballanche has also put forth the first volume of a great work, La Palinge"nesie. 2 Among the physiologists, Virey and Berard, by reviving the doctrine of the vital principle, began the opposition to the school of Cabanis. 3 Maine de Biran was at first a sensualist, afterwards a spiritualist. His language is obscure ; and his great merit is to have philosophized, not into the external senses but to look upon consciousness as his science, and he considers the soul as a pure and actual force. However, his first work, his Ideologic, is only a sort of physiology. But in his article on Leibnitz he shows himself a monadist. 4 Royer-Collard began to lecture in 1811, when 'rien ne semblait annoncer encore une reaction centre les doctrines de Condillac.' It was he who began the great philosophic movement against Condillac. He introduced a knowledge of Reid. Besides this, he said that we have all ideas of substance and cause, and yet that ideology does not account for their existence. The real solution, he says, is this : our notions of substance, cause, time, and space all proceed from consciousness ; but in different ways. ist. As soon as the soul feels, it believes that it is, and that there is a connection between its impression and its being. This connection it gene- ralises, and from this moment believes that every quality has a 1 Damiron, Hist, de la Philosophic, tome i. pp. 322-328. 2 Ibid. p. 329. 3 Ibid, tome ii. p. 23. * Ibid. pp. 129-135. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 347 substance, and every substance a quality. 2nd. As the soul is active, it looks upon itself as a cause, and then generalising, believes that every effect has a cause. 3rd. As it remembers that it acted, it has the idea of its duration, which it understands by the succession of its action hence the idea of infinite dura- tion, time, and eternity. By an analogous method we get the idea of space, p. 147-148. Collard was as much opposed to mysticism as to sensualism. 1 Collard was succeeded as professor by Cousin, who began with the Scotch philosophy, and then studied the German. After this came his own system. He divides psychology into three points liberty, reason, and sensibility. Liberty is the me in all its wholeness, and those who deny liberty deny personality (Damiron, ii. 172). In the acts of reason and of sensation there is not freedom, and they do not proceed from the me, though the me eventually lays hold of them. As to the reason, Cousin says that all the laws of thought may be reduced to two, causality and substance. Synthetically and in the nature of things, the law of substance is the first ; but analytically, and in the order of the acquisition of our knowledge, the law of causality precedes that of substance. Thus all ideas are reducible to what is, and what acts. Indeed in reality, these two are one ; the substance is the force which ts, and the force is the substance which acts. The reason is supreme when it acts by itself ; but the moment the me intervenes i.e. the moment we reflect, the reason becomes fallible. The criterion then of truth is neither the opinion of men nor the opinion pf the individual, but it is spontaneous perception. As to sensation, Cousin says that it is the faculty of knowing of the exterior world whatever falls under our senses, and he denies the existence of matter, and follows Maine de Biran in saying that the external world only consists of forces. Damiron thinks that Cousin is not a pantheist Ac- cording to Cousin, humanity has three epochs, ist. When without reflection it merely considers the infinity which surrounds it. 2nd. It turns its eyes on itself and considers the finite. 3rd. Having still more experience, it studies the connection between the infinite and the finite. Philosophy will have three cor- responding epochs which are represented by the East, Greece, and the modern era ; and in religion by pantheism, polytheism, 1 Damiron, Hist de la Philosophic, tome i. p. 141-155. 348 FRAGMENTS and theism ; in politics, monarchy, democracy, and a mixed form. 1 Jouffroy, born in 1796, was a pupil of Cousin. He has translated Dugald Stewart's Sketches of Moral Philosophy, in the Preface to which he triumphantly defends the moral sciences. 2 (Constant,, the friend of Madame de Stael, introduced the German Literature into France.) The revolutionists, after the fate of the Girondists, anticipated the hatred of Napoleon against men who presumed to> think. In 1794 they insulted the members of the Academy, 3 and indeed in 1793 the Academies were formally suppressed. 4 Morellet notices 5 the dislike of Bonaparte to moral and political science. Immediately after the final defeat of Napoleon there arose (about 1816) the great eclectic school of philosophy in France. M. Cousin says 6 that his predecessor, Royer-Collard, first introduced the Scotch philosophy into France. There have been absurd exaggerations about Napoleon. In 1813, Campbell had some conversation with Herschel respecting his interview with Napoleon. Herschel said to Campbell, ' The first consul did surprise me by his quickness and versatility on all subjects ; but in science he seemed to know little more than any well-educated gentleman ; and of astronomy much less, for instance, than our own king. His general air was something like affecting to know more than he did know.' 7 Lamartine is at once senti- mental and picturesque. In 1802 Sir James Mackintosh, who had just returned from Paris, writes to Dugald Stewart that there was little interest felt there for metaphysics ; and in 1808 SirJ. Mackin- tosh writes, ' In the character of Corinne, Madame de Stael draws an imaginary self what she is, what she had the power of being, and what she can easily imagine that she might have become.'* In 1814 Sir J. Mackintosh writes from Paris, where he had seen all the most eminent persons, ' Constant is the first man in talent whom I have seen here.' 9 In 1802, Chateaubriand was supreme, and France was evidently succumbing under a military and religious despotism. Romilly, who was in Paris in 1802, notices 'in what 1 Damiron, Hist, de la Philosophic, tome ii. pp. 167-213. 3 Ibid. pp. 219-223. 3 See Memoires de Morellet, tome ii. pp. 30, 31.' 4 Ibid. pp. 55, 58. s ibid. p. 217. 6 Histoire de la Philosophic, part ii. tome i. p. 296. 7 Beanie's Life and Letters of Campbell, Lond. 1849, vol. ii. pp. 234, 235. 8 Memoirs of Mackintosh, edited by his Son, Lond. 1836, vol. i. p. 406. 9 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 296. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 349 -scorn Bonaparte holds the opinions of the people.' 1 In 1880 Niebuhr writes from Amsterdam, ' It is now the fashion among the French themselves to decry their own literature, with the exception of the poets of the age of Louis XIV., as the production of hell.' 2 Napoleon hated Madame de Stael. He forbad her to associate with Schlegel, and he (about 1811) in every way attempted to ruin the German literature. Niebuhr speaks in the highest terms of Ma- dame de Stael's ' Germany.' In Morell's Philosophical Tendencies of the Age, 8vo, 1848, pp. 126, 127, there is a short account of Bonald's superstitious attempt to resolve philosophy into tradition. Napoleon and the injury he did. This great public robber levied, in 1797, i2o,ooo,ooo/. on Italy. 3 Besides this, notice his destruction of the Venetian Republic. 4 This forms such a catalogue of crimes as no other man has ever been able to commit. His spoliation of the Swiss confederacy, Alison, iv. 452,462,562. His pillage of Rome, iv. 483. These were the things for which when merely a military leader, he was answerable. And when he afterwards rose to supreme power, his crimes took a still wider range. Respecting the laws of conscription and their result, see Alison, iv. 544; vl 231, 232; vii. 371; viii. 199; x. 609. The Russian campaign, xi. 199, 265, 266, 285, 287; xil 390, 439. And yet, notwithstanding all this, such was the immense stimulus liberty had given the national intellect that in 1798, Napoleon was accompanied to Egypt by Monge, Berthollet, Fourier, Larrey, Desgenettes, Geoffrey St.-Hilaire, and Denon. 5 Napoleon's murder of the Albanians at Jaffa, iv. 624. His scandalous desertion of his own army, which he left shut up as prisoners in Egypt, iv. 650. His treachery towards Toussaint, vi.' 129. His infamous arrest of the English, vi. 198, 199. His murder of the Duke d'Enghien, vl 257, 308, 323. The murder of Palm, vii. 166. The inordinate destruction of human life, vii. 572. His seizure of the Spanish fortresses in the midst of profound peace, viii. 333 ; and subse- quent occupation of the whole peninsula, viii. 388. His murder of Hofer, ix. 286. His plunder, vi. 598 ; xil 187. Napoleon him- self was indifferent to Christianity, but he saw that the clergy were friends of despotism. 6 In 1799, the very year he was made First 1 Life of Sir Samuel Romilly, written by Himself, 1842, vol. i. p. 415. See also pp. 420, 421. Life and Letters of B. G. Niebuhr. Lond. 8vo, 1852, vol. i. p. 265. 3 Alison's Europe, vol. iv. p. 345. * Ibid. p. 352. * Ibid. p. 563. 6 Ibid. p. 644. 350 FRAGMENTS Consul, he fettered the press. 1 He called the Jacobins metaphy- sicians, and said they ought to be thrown into the Seine. 2 In 1804 he was made Emperor ; and, says Alison, 3 ' In everything but the name, the government of France was thenceforward an absolute despotism.' He did not destroy the press ; he did worse, he cor- rupted it 4 Intoxicated with military glory, the French, soon after the battle of Austerlitz, presented Napoleon with the most fulsome addresses. Such was the ignorance in which France was kept by a corrupt press, that in 1814 many of the French had never heard of the battle of Trafalgar. 5 By 1807, education was entirely in the hands of the government, and of course Napoleon (like the Chinese emperors) encouraged it. 6 Napoleon, as if determined to per- petuate his infamy beyond the grave, left a legacy to the assassin who attempted to murder the Duke of Wellington. 7 In the moment of Napoleon's fall it was soon seen what military honour was. All his marshals, the creatures whom he had raised from the dust, deserted him. After the battle of Moscow, Murat, his own brother-in-law, Berthier, his bosom friend, deserted him, 8 and so did Marmont, Ney, Augereau. Indeed Ney and Soult committed a double treachery. 9 Napoleon hated political economists. And yet Say had just done so much. 10 The retreat from Moscow and the battles of Vittoria and Leipsic completed the ruin of Napoleon which his own violence was sure to bring upon him. 11 A century after the death of Louis XIV., the military spirit of the French subjected them to still greater disgrace. The fall of Napoleon showed that the time is long since passed, if, indeed, it ever existed, in which the genius of a single man can permanently change the face of the world. Chateaubriand, directly he heard of the murder of the Duke d'Enghien, threw up his appointment under Napoleon. 12 In 1815 France, besides supporting the army of occupation, had to pay 6i,4oo,ooo/. 13 Early in the nineteenth century the imagination revived, and I Alison's Europe, vol. v. p. 283. 2 Ibid. vol. vi. pp. 8, 60 ; vol. xi. p. 262. 5 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 347. 4 Ibid. p. 365. 5 Ibid. vol. viii. pp. 152-159. 6 Ibid. pp. 203-205. 7 Ibid. vol. ix. p. 287 ; vol. xi. p. 560. 8 Ibid. vol. xi. p. 424, 621 ; vol. xiii. p. 204. fl Ibid. vol. xiii. pp. 191, 198, 204, 214, 625. 10 Ibid. vol. ix. p. 427. See also Twiss on Progress of Political Economy. II Ibid. vol. xii. p. 302. L - Ibid. vol. xiii. p. 201. 13 Ibid. vol. xiv. pp. 99, 100. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 351 history, under Chateaubriand, Barante, and Thierry, become an art, began to fall. It was necessary to begin with a blunder. Because men had loved antiquity too little they now loved it too much ; and in theology we have De Maistre and Lamennais. On the retrogressive character of Napoleon's policy, see Comte, Philosophic Positive, v. 668, 669 ; vi. 386, 387. Napoleon favoured and rewarded Berthollet and Moreau, the great chemists. 1 Sismondi 2 says that Saint- Aulaire in 1817 was the first who took a large view of the History of the Fronde. Whewell 3 says that Lamoriguiere ' was one of the first ' who attacked ' the sensational philosophy' of Locke and Condillac. Even in Flassan's great work, Histoire de la Diplomatic franchise, the authorities are rarely quoted. Porter 4 says, on the authority of some French merchants, that it was not till ' towards the close of the reign of Napoleon ' that agriculture and industry began to make head against the military spirit. Georgel died in 1813, and Napoleon's police immediately seized on his manuscript Memoires, which, in consequence, were not published till 1817. 5 I suspect it is the love of the ancient writers which makes many French historians think to imitate them by not quoting their authorities. The sixth and latter half of the fifth volume of Georgel's Memoires are important for the life of Napoleon ; and I have not read them. Napoleon was very disappointed with Laplace, whom he was so unwise as to raise to office. 6 Monteil's Histoire des Fran^ais des divers Etats is rather curious than valuable ; the author never generalises, and has no political economy. However, he with reason complains 7 that men only write the history of kings or of ecclesiastics. 8 Monteil tells us that this work cost him more than twenty years' labour ; and yet he fancies that modern history begins with the fourteenth century. He says 9 that the fourteenth century was the age of feudality ; the fifteenth the age of inde- pendence; the sixteenth the age of theology; the seventeenth 1 See Thomson's History of Chemistry, vol. ii. pp. 146, 150, 187, 188. * Histoire des Fran9ais, tome xxiv. pp. 190, 191. 3 History of the Inductive Sciences, vol. ii. p. 312. 4 Progress of the Nation, vol. i. p. 288. 5 See Georgel, Memoires, tome i. pp. xxix, xxx. 6 See Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise, p. 291. 7 Monteil, Hist, des Francais des divers Etats, tome i. p. 5. See also tome iv. P- 233. 8 Ibid, tome i. p. 6. 9 Ibid. p. 6. 352 FRAGMENTS of the arts; the eighteenth of reformers ; but that 'les siecles anterieurs ont e"te, comme le quatorzieme, des siecles feodaux; ils ont e"te tous enchaines, tous stationnaires, tous les memes.' Monteil actually supposes l that the circulating specie in France in the fourteenth century can be ascertained by the prices of clothes, &c., and above all by the rates of the daily wages of labour. Sismondi 2 says he has never quoted manuscripts. He mistakes the use of history, which he thinks a moral lesson. He says he is Protestant, and that his history occupied him twenty- four years. 3 Alison 4 says that, in the French Revolution, men, being indifferent to Christianity, drew their notions of liberty from Rome and Greece ; hence, I am inclined to think, some of the respect which the French now have for classical literature. The French law against primogeniture is absurd. Even the Americans do not compel a man to divide his property. 5 Tocque- ville says 6 that an error in the French Revolution was that it not only destroyed the power of the king, but also the provincial institutions ; thus falling into the error of being both republican and centralizing. See however pp. 307-9, where Tocqueville confesses that this centralizing spirit is not entirely the work of the French Revolution ; for that it was begun by the ' legistes ' in the reign of Philip the Fair. Tocqueville, the first political writer of the age, announces himself a Catholic. 7 Tocqueville 8 shows himself ignorant of political economy. He says 9 that the civil legislation of France is more democratic than that of America, and that this was because Napoleon was willing to satisfy the democratic passions of France in everything except his own power ; and willingly allowed such principles to govern the arrangements of property and families, provided it was not .attempted to introduce them into the state. Thus, I think, one great cause of the constant disorder in France is, that the demo- cracy of civil life is struggling with the despotism of political life. Tocqueville says 10 that in France, though most parties complain of the Government, they all call upon the government 1 Monteil, Hist, des Franfais, tome ii. p. 256, note. 2 Hist, des Francois, tome xxix. p. 511. 3 Ibid. pp. 513, 516. 4 History of Europe, vol. i. p. 141. 5 See Tocqueville, Democratic en Amerique, tome i. p. 304. 6 Ibid. p. 172. 7 Ibid, tome iii. p. 65. 8 Ibid, tome v. pp. 43, 45. See also p. 237, note. 9 Ibid. p. 49. 10 Democratic en Amerique, tome v. p. 207. FRANCE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 353 to interfere and to do more than it is now doing Indeed, Tocqueville says that in every country centralization is increasing, and the state gradually absorbing everything. 1 Sismondi, like most of the French historians, knew very little of foreign litera- ture. He hardly ever quotes our State Papers. Ranke 2 truly says that the fullest account of the death of Henry II. is in Forbes's State Papers, and these Sismondi, I think, never cites. Monteil, who [was] after all merely a learned antiquary, speaks with the greatest disrespect of Voltaire. 3 Even Capefigue takes large views, though, like De Maistre and Lamennais, he was a bigot. He has well seized the spirit of the sixteenth century, and truly says that the Reformation was 'action,' the League * reaction ' ; and the reign of Henry IV. ' transaction.' See his admirable remarks in Histoire de la Reforme, tome viii. pp. 325- 363. Lamartine 4 says, ' Napoleon paya, pendant quinze ans, des ecrivains et des journaux charges de degrader, de salir, et de nier le genie de Voltaire. II haissait ce nom, comme la force hait 1'intelligence.' The three best historians of the French Revolu- tion are Thiers, Lamartine, and Mignet. Of these, Thiers rarely quotes authorities; Lamartine and Mignet never. In England, the middle ages became popular because we disliked antiquity ; in France, from military associations ; in Germany, from a love of liberty. Capefigue 5 well says that the centralizing spirit of France is shown by the way in which the French Academy inter- fered with language, attempting to destroy the provincial lan- guages, or patois, as they are wrongly called. Napoleon revived the mischievous example of Louis XIV. of patronising literature. Saint- Aulaire, historian and ambassador. Lamartine, in 1848, was placed at the head of affairs; Thiers, Cousin, Villemain. Saint- Aulaire 6 says that offices were greatly increased under the French kings, because it was profitable to sell them. He adds that under Henry IV. Chancellor Paulet made them hereditary ; and in the time of Louis XIII. there were 40,000 of them. Hallam 7 gives an instance of the ignorance of French writers 1 Democratic en Amerique, tome v. pp. 218, 225, 227. 228, 230, 241. * Civil Wars in France, vol. i. p. 261. 3 See Histoire des Francais des divers Etats, tome viii. pp. 339-3^2. 4 Histoire des Girondins, tome i. p. 181. 5 Richelieu, Mazarin, et la Fronde, tome ii. p. 240. 6 Histoire de la Fronde, tome i. p. 12. 7 Constitutional Hist, of England, vol. i. p. 127. VOL. I. A A 354 FRAGMENTS respecting English materials for their own history. Lacretelle gives accounts of literature and philosophy and of political economy; the last very superficially. His account of art and manners is miserable. 1 GREECE. Foreign influence. There is no proof of 'very early settlements in continental Greece from Phoenicia and Egypt.' 2 The Grecian scales for weight and money are derived from 'the Chaldsean priesthood of Babylon.' 3 The Greeks certainly derived their alphabet from the Phoenicians, and their 'musical scale from the Lydians and Phrygians'; likewise their 'statical system ' from Assyrians. 4 Bunsen 6 says, 'Whether Plato ever was in Egypt is doubtful/ In Asia, experience showed that animal food was unwholesome ; hence metempsychosis into animals. In Europe, the same doctrine, but confined to the human body. Diodorus Siculus 6 merely says the Gauls believed that 'men's souls are immortal, and that there is a transmigration of them into other bodies.' The Greeks arrested by that vulgar superstition which only physical knowledge can destroy. On physical geography of Greece see Journal of Geographical Society, vii. 61-74, and 81-94. Man. ' The Hesiodic theogony gives no account of anything like a creation of man, nor does it seem that such an idea was much entertained in the legendary verse of Greek imagination ; which commonly carries back the present men by successive generations to some primitive ancestor, himself sprung from the soil.' 7 And (at p. 598) 'the intimate companionship and the occasional mistake of identity between gods and men were in full harmony with their reverential retrospect.' At first the Greek artists did not presume to represent the gods as beautiful; and ' it was in statues of men that genuine ideas of beauty were first aimed at, and in part attained, from whence they passed after - 1 Lacretelle, Histoire de France pendant le dix-huitieme Siecle, tome ii. pp. i, 90, 126, 286, 287, 308, 329 ; tome iii. pp. 224, 238. 2 Grote, Hist, of Greece, vol. ii. p. 354. 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 425. 4 Ibid. vol. iii. pp. 285, 453, 454, 4515 ; vol. iv. 102. 5 Egypt, vol. i. p. 60. 6 Book V. cap. ii. Booth, vol. i. p. 314. 7 Grote, Hist, of Greece, voL i. p. 88. GREECE 355 wards to the statues of the gods.' This was in B.C. 568-548. 1 The first 'architectural monuments' are B.C. 600-550.2 The Argonautic expedition is a legend ; and ' one of the most celebrated and widely-diffused among the ancient tales of Greece.' 3 The siege of Troy is fabulous, and there is no evidence that there ever was a Trojan war. 4 These idle stories constituted for a time their entire knowledge. ' These myths, or current stories, the sponta- neous and earliest growth of the Greek mind constituted at the same time the entire intellectual stock of the age to which they belonged.' 5 The Greeks, like all barbarians, were at first eminently and exclusively theological ; till their religion took a limited form in consequence of the curtailed and abridged physical associations. In Greece the gods were exaggerated heroes ; in Asia, the heroes were curtailed gods. There were no revolting miracles. Volcanoes and earthquakes rare in Greece (?). The ' return of the Herakleids ' is fabulous. 6 ' The great mythical hero Theseus.' 7 They placed their gods on Olympus, the highest mountain. ' In no city of his- torical Greece did there prevail either human sacrifices or deliberate mutilation, such as cutting off the nose, ears, hands, feet, &c., or castration, or selling of children into slavery.' 8 Cadmus is fabulous. 9 'The entire nakedness of the competition at Olympia was adopted from the Spartan practice, seemingly in i4th Olympiad.' 10 Now arose a love of discussion and oratory hitherto unknown in the world. 11 The Fates, or Mcerae, are usually represented as superior to the gods ; and when Croesus, king of Lydia, blamed the Delphian god for deceiving him, ' the god condescending to justify himself by the lips of the priestess, replied, " Not even a god can escape his destiny." ' 12 Now were seen the first democracies of which we have any account in history ; the beginning of that power of the people which, in spite of innumerable vicissitudes, has, on the whole, steadily increased in Europe alone, and must eventually carry all before it. For the first time the legislative and executive 1 Grote, Hist, of Greece, voL iv. pp. 133. 134, and vol. vi. p. 29. s Ibid. vol. iv. p. 134. 3 Ibid. vol. i. p. 332. 4 Ibid. vol. i. pp. 386. 435 ; vol. ii. p. 179. 5 Ibid. vol. i. p. 460. 6 Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 179, 404. 7 Ibid. p. 29. 8 Ibid. pp. 337, 338, and on eunuchs, see vol. L p. 21. 9 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 353. 10 Ibid. pp. 338, 445 ; vol. ix. p. 368. n Ibid. vol. xi. p. 373. 1J Ibid. vol. iv. pp. 259, 262, 263. And so in Homer, see Mure's Greek Litera- ture, vol. i. p. 472. A A 2 356 FRAGMENTS powers were separated, and by the division of labour both were improved. 1 No human sacrifices. 2 In Grecian religion none of the ferocity of Asia and America ; but the gods are mild and even jocular. The Greek love of man appears from the fact that even the best of them only studied anatomy, physiology, and medicine \ but no botany nor chemistry, mineralogy, nor geology. In Asia, the forces of nature were too disproportioned to the forces of man. No public oratory before Greece. It was not till the Greek mind reacted on Asia that the notion of divine incarnation in the form of man was able to arise, and what shows the true origin is that Christianity, founded on this notion, made all its great conquests in Europe, but in Asia has always been an exotic. The Greeks had smaller temples, partly from a contracted religion, and partly from a smaller command of labour. Grote says, 3 ' The fifth cen- tury B.C. is the first century of democracy at Athens, in Sicily, and elsewhere.' Greece is the first country where we find historians. The Athenians never tortured to death enemies or malefactors, but killed the latter painlessly by a cup of hemlock. 4 Nor would they mutilate the bodies of the slain in battle. 5 At Athens the theatre held 30,000 persons, and at first everyone had to pay for admission ; but Pericles arranged that the poor should enter free. 6 On sla- very, see Grote, iv. p. 9 ; and vii. p. 542. Greeks ' knew no dis tinction of caste.' 7 Homer does not mention a future state of happiness, but only of punishment. 8 Mure 9 strangely denies that Hesiod really believed in the existence of Pandora and Prometheus. Venus fell in love with ' the young Dardanian prince Anchises,' 10 .and the fruit of this intrigue was ./Eneas. 11 ' In so far as the face of the interior country was concerned, it seemed as if nature had been disposed from the beginning to keep the population of Greece socially and politically disunited ' 12 i.e. by mountains and want of navigable rivers. Grote 13 says that in Greece, as in Switzerland, mountain barriers made conquest more 1 Grote, vol. iii. p. 23, and vol. v. pp. 477, 478, 497. 2 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 218. But see Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iii. p. 283, and Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, vol. i. p. 66. 3 Hist, of Greece, vol. viii. p. 462. 4 Ibid. vol. ix. pp. 13, 14. 5 Ibid. vol. x. p. 563. 6 Ibid. vol. viii. pp. 438, 439, 441 7 Mure, Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. i. p. 70. 8 Ibid. vol. i. p. 496. 9 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 387. 43 Ibid. p. 345. n Ibid. vol. iv. p. 137. 12 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. ii. p. 291. 13 Ibid. pp. 298, 299. GREECE 357 difficult, not only from foreigners, but among themselves ; hence, ' it also kept them politically disunited, and perpetuated their separate autonomy,' and 'the indefinite multiplication of self- governing towns appears more marked among the Greeks than elsewhere ; and there cannot be any doubt that they owe it in a considerable degree to the multitude of insulating boundaries which the configuration of their country presented.' l This breaking up into states is common to the Germans, and is one of the causes of their intellectual superiority. ' From the mountains between Achaia and Arcadia numerous streams flow into the Corinthian Gulf, but few of them are perennial, and the whole length of coast is represented as harbourless.' 2 ' Political disunion sovereign authority within the city walls thus formed a settled maxim in the Greek mind. The relation between one city and another was an international relation, not a relation subsisting be- tween members of a common political aggregate.' 3 At different times, Sparta, Athens, and Thebes vainly attempted centralization. The mountains were not so large as to excite fear. They were nume- rous enough to diminish fear by frequency, while Asiatic civilization has always sought the table-land skirted by mountains. The states of Greece pressed together from within^ and hating each other from without, were, from a sense of danger, as much as from ignorance, forced to exaggerate the importance of their own city. Hence that patriotism which, like every other virtue when predominant, is a vice ; and hence the meddlesome and protective character of their government, which was most shown in Sparta, where nature had more isolated the people than in Athens. Neither Boeotia nor Thessaly, the two most fertile parts of Greece, could reach civilization ; they were too out of the way, and Lacedaemon was too removed from other coasts, but Athens was familiarized to risk by her greater proximity to Asia Minor, and above all by the easy access of Eubcea. Grote 4 says the danger of the Persian invasion gave rise to the first union of Greece ; but this was only apolitical union. The difficulty of communication kept the states separate, and therefore Greece independent Custine 5 says of the Russians, J Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. ii. p. 299. J Ibid. vol. ii. p. 615. 5 Ibid. p. 340. See also vol. iv. p. 68 ; vol. vi. pp. 43, 312 ; vol. vii. p. 397 ; vol. ix. p. 279 ; vol. x. pp. 14, 71, 75 ; vol. xi. p. 286. . 4 Ibid. vol. iv. pp. 428, 429 ; and vol. v. pp. 78, 79. s La Russie, vol. iv. p. 214. 358 FRAGMENTS * La tranquillit^ se maintient chez ce peuple par la ienteur et la difficulte des communications.' Mure 1 says the independence of the different states ' was fostered by the natural features of the country, which marked out the boundaries of the separate princi- palities, and interposed barriers against mutual encroachment.' Hence too the Greeks, unlike every other people, not only pre- served their national dialects, but so cherished them as to cultivate them for literary purposes. 2 Hence, also, until 'the Alexandrian period,' they had ' no common national era for the computation of time.' 3 Women. Castration and polygamy unknown. 4 The Spartan law forbad early marriages. 5 ' Plutarch (Agis, c. 4) dwells espe- cially upon the increasing tendency to accumulate property in the hands of the women ' (of Sparta) ; and ' Aristotle (Politik, ii. 6, 6) mentions " a peculiar sympathy and yielding disposition towards women in the Spartan mind." ' 6 In the mythical times of Greece women seem to have had more influence than afterwards ; though even then a man bought his wife by making presents to her parents. 7 Both then and in ' historical Greece ' female slaves were worse treated than male ones. 8 However, even in the time of Homer, ' Polygamy appears to be ascribed to Priam, but to no one else, Iliad, xxi. 88.' 9 Aristotle says that at Sparta ' it was the practice to give a large dowry when a rich man's daughter married.' 10 This assertion is contradicted by Plutarch, ^Elian, and Justin : but, as Grote says, 11 Aristotle's authority is superior. In Athens, in the time of Solon, a dowry was given with wives. 12 ' Elpinike, the sister of Kimon,' in the time of Pericles, ' seems to have played an active part in the political intrigues of the day.' 13 Aspasia, mistress of the great Pericles, was a highly accom- plished woman of the class called ' Hetserse, or courtezans ; ' her conversation secured her the visits of Socrates. 14 Grote says 15 that at Athens ' the free citizen women lived in strict, and almost 1 Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. i. p. 102. * Ibid. pp. 117, 118 ; vol. iv. p. 113. 3 Ibid. voL iv. pp. 74, 75. 4 Grote's History of Greece, vol. ii. p. 338. 5 Ibid. p. 510. 6 Ibid. p. 513 ; also pp. 507, 508. 7 Ibid. p. 112. 8 Ibid. pp. 132, 133. Ibid. p. 113. 10 Ibid. pp. 525, 540. n Ibid. p. 545. 12 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 186. ' i 3 Ibid. vol. v. p. 501. 14 Ibid. vol. vi. pp. 133, 134 ; vol. viii. p. 449. " ibid. vol. vi. p. 133. GREECE 359 oriental recluseness, as well after being married as when single. Everything which concerned their lives, their happiness, or their rights, was determined or managed for them by male relatives : and they seem to have been destitute of all mental culture and accomplishments.' 1 Alcibiades received with his wife ' a large dowry of ten talents.' 2 Cyrus, in the time of the ' Retreat of the Ten Thousand,' had with him as mistress an accomplished Phokasan lady named Milto. 3 Xenophon 4 mentions that in the time of Agesilaus, King of Sparta, a woman of great influence lived at Anton (' a Laconian town on the frontier towards Arcadia and Triphylia '), who ' spread disaffection among all the Lacedemonians who came thither, old as well as young.' 5 In Sparta women had more influence than any- where else. 6 Sappho flourished B.C. 600, and a little later ; and ' so highly did Plato value her intellectual, as well as her imaginative en- dowments, that he assigned her the honours of sage as well as poet ; and familiarly entitled her the tenth muse. ' 7 ' There can be no better evidence of her surpassing fame and popularity than the fact of her having figured as a favourite heroine of the comic drama of Athens, to a greater extent, it would appear, than any other historical personage upon record. Mention occurs of not less than six comedies under the name of Sappho; and her history, real or imaginary, furnished materials to nearly as many more.' 8 (She was a native of Lesbos, a large island in the ygean, south of Troas and west of Pergamos.) Cleobulus flourished B.C. 586, and his daughter, Eumetes, surnamed Cleobuline, was celebrated ' for poetical talent, especially in the composition of metrical enigmas. The composition of such epigrammatic riddles appears to have been from an early period a favourite occupation of the Greek literary ladies,' and this practice is ridiculed by several 'Attic dramatists.' 9 For the first (?) time women play a great part in religion. Diana for chastity, Minerva for accomplishments. Sir W. Jones in his Commentary on Isaeus, says, that among the Athenians 1 See also Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iv. p. 43, and vol. iii. p. 300. * Grote, vol. vii. p. 44. 5 Ibid. vol. ix. p. 63. * Xenophon, Hellen, iii. 3, 8. 5 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. ix. p. 349. 6 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iii. p. 76. 7 Ibid. p. 273. 8 Ibid p. 275. 9 Ibid. p. 391. 360 FRAGMENTS about the time of the Peloponnesian war, dowries were so general that ' a suspicion of illegitimacy was cast upon girls who were married with a small fortune in proportion to the estate of their fathers.' l Diodorus Siculus * notices how the Pythian oracle was always delivered by women. In Smith's Dictionary of Mythology 3 it is said of Plato's lectures at Athens, ' Even women are said to have attached themselves to him as his disciples.' 4 When Greek women married, their fathers gave presents with them. 5 Plato in his Republic, 6 lays it down that women are to be well educated, and take a share in the functions of the state ; and this he repeats in Timasus, 7 and also in the laws. 8 In the Laws 9 a man is ordered to bequeath some of his property to his daughters. At book xi. chap. xiv. p. 496, ' Let a free woman be allowed to bear witness, and appear as counsel if she is more than forty years of age, and obtain by lot a trial, if she is unmarried ; but, if her husband is living, let her be allowed to be a witness only.' In book ix. chap. ix. p. 379, the same penalty is inflicted if a wife kills her husband or if the husband kills his wife ; and in reference to slaves it is said, 10 the laws are to be the same for men as for women. In the Republic 11 women are to marry at twenty, men at thirty ; but in the Laws l2 ' the marriageable age of a female' is fixed at from sixteen to twenty ; and at p. 148, 13 men are to marry from thirty to thirty-five. See a eulogy of Aspasia in Menexemus; 14 and (at p. 551) Burgess says in a note, ' amongst the ancients not a few women such as Aspasia and Diotima, and others, were given to philosophy ; a list of whom has been collected by Menage, and appended to his notes on Diogenes Laertius.' Progress. Like other barbarians, they were at first purely theological. 'Anaxagoras and other astronomers incurred the charge of blasphemy for dispersonifying Helios and trying to assign invariable laws to the solar phenomena. . . . Physical I Jones's Works, vol. iv. pp. 204, 205. 8 Book XVI. chap. vi. vol. ii. p. 101. By Booth. 3 Vol. iii. p. 394. 4 Diog. Laert. lib. c. Comp. Olympiod. 5 Herodotus, Book VI. chap, cxxii. p. 399. 8 Book V. chap, v, vi. Works, vol. ii. pp. 139, 140. 7 Chap. ii. vol. ii. p. 320. 8 Book VII. chap. xi. vol. v. pp. 277, 249. 9 Book XI. chap. vii. vol. v. p. 47^. 10 Book IX. chap. xvii. p. 403. II Book V. chap. ix. Plato's Works, vol. ii. p. 145. 12 Book VI. chap, xxiii. vol. v. pp. 248, 249. 13 Plato's Works, vol. v. p. 148 ; and see p. 126. 14 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 186. GREECE 361 astronomy was both new and accounted impious in the time of the Peloponnesian war.' 1 See also p. 498, where Grote quotes Xenophon to the effect that in the opinion of Socrates, ' Physics and astronomy belonged to the divine class of phenomena in which human research was insane, fruitless, and impious.' ' Men whose minds were full of the heroes of Homer called Hesiod, in contempt, the poet of the Helots. The contrast between the two is certainly a remarkable proof of the tendency of Greek poetry towards the present and the positive.' 2 Xenophanes, Thales, and Pythagoras, were the three ' who in the sixth century before the Christian sera, first opened up those veins of speculative philosophy which occupied afterwards so large a portion of Greek intellectual energy.' 3 They first threw off the theological supremacy. 4 This went on until Socrates, 'who laid open all ethical and social doctrines to the scrutiny of reason, 5 ' The Milesian Thales,' B.C. 640, 550, was 'the first man to depart both in letter and spirit from the Hesiodic Theogony;' and he founded the 'Ionic philosophy, which is considered as lasting from his time down to that of Socrates.' 6 He introduced the ' scientific study of nature.' 7 Hippo came next. 8 Contemporary with Thales Anaximander tended to same direction. 9 In the eighth and seventh centuries B.C. music and poetry conjoined were the only intellectual mani- festation known among the Greeks. 10 'The interval between 776-560, is a remarkable expansion of Grecian genius in the creation of their elegiac, iambic, lyric, choric, and gnomic poetry.' u ' The poetry of Alkaeus is the more worthy of note as it is the earliest instance of the employment of the muse in actual political warfare, and shows the increased hold which that motive was acquir- ing on the Grecian mind.' 12 Grote says, 13 ' yEschylus and Sophocles exhibit the same spontaneous and uninquiring faith as Pindar in the legendary antiquities of Greece taken as a whole ; but they allow themselves greater license as to the details.' ^schylus takes the old mythical views which Euripides was accused of vulgarising, and between the two is Sophocles, in whom ' we find 1 Grote's Hist, of Greece, voL i. pp. 466, 467. * Ibid. vol. i. p. 487, and vol. iv. p. 101. s Ibid. vol. i. p. 493. 4 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 155 ; vol. iv. pp. 129, 521, 525 ; vol. viii. p. 468. 5 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 129 ; vol. viii. pp. 466, 467, 573, 577. 6 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 511. 7 Ibid. p. 516. 8 Ibid. p. 516. 9 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 520. 10 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 285. 11 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 99. IS Ibid. p. 122. l3 Ibid. vol. i. p. 510. 362 FRAGMENTS indications that a more predominant sense of artistic perfection is allowed to modify the harsher religious agencies of the old epic.' This is well noted in Schlegel's Dramatic Literature. 1 The great dramatic development took place just after the expulsion of Xerxes. Sophocles and Euripides were the followers of ^Eschylus, who himself was ' the creator of the tragic drama, or at least the first who rendered it illustrious. . . . Sophocles gained his first victory over ^Eschylus in 468 B.C. : the first exhibition of Euripides was in 455 B.C.' 2 Grote 3 says ^Eschylus is altogether ideal. ' In Sophocles there is a closer approach to reality and common life, . . . but when we advance to Euripides the ultra-natural sublimity of the legendary characters disappears ; love and compassion are evoked to a degree which ^Eschylus would have deemed inconsistent with the dignity of the heroic person.' Aristophanes (whose 'earliest comedy' was exhibited B.C. 427) 4 was a still greater lover of common, and even vulgar life. Even Socrates took superstitious views, and opposed physical study as impious. 5 Solon, who flourished B.C. 594, put forward his views in 'easy metre,' for ' there was at that time no Greek prose writing.' 6 Herodotus, though ' a thoroughly pious man,' takes a more profane view than Homer, Hesiod, or even Solon. 7 In Thucydides we see views even more mundane than in Herodotus, for he treats the mythical heroes as mere men, whose acts he freely criticises by a human standard. 8 Grote 9 compares with Herodotus 'the more positive and practical genius of Thucydides.' Before Herodotus men were too absorbed in the wonderful and religious to think it worth their while to record the history of human actions. Greece was the first country that ever produced historians ; and this was an immense step, though their merit has been overrated and their credulity was childish. Mure 10 says that before B.C. 560, 'poetry continued to be the only cultivated branch of composition.' Mure 11 well says that lyric poetry is more 'subjective' or 'prac- tical ' than epic. No epic poet selects his subject from present events, but always refers to the mysterious past. On the other I Crete's Hist, of Greece, vol. i. pp. 518, 519. 2 Ibid. vol. viii. pp. 434, 437. 3 Ibid. p. 442. 4 Ibid. p. 451. * Ibid. pp. 577, 578, 673. e Ibid. vol. iii. p. 119. 7 Ibid. voL i. pp. 535, 539. 8 Ibid. pp. 540, 541. 9 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 415. 10 Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. i. p. 6. See also p. 168. II Ibid. voL iii. pp. 3, 5. GREECE 363 hand lyric poets take common subjects, and always allude to themselves. In Hesiod as compared to Homer, we first find a lyric tendency. 1 Lyric poetry was chiefly encouraged by Sparta, the only state whose armies were ' always regulated by musical performances,' but the Spartans were not themselves 'distinguished -either as poets or musicians.' 2 The first lyric poets are Callinus, of Ephesus, and Archilochus. 3 ' In Homer the man is completely absorbed in the poet ; in Archilochus the poet exists but in the man.' 4 Contemporary with Archilochus is Simonides of Amorgos. 5 Alcman, ' the last of the more illustrious masters of the Spartan school of lyric poetry,' flourished B.C. 670, 6n. 6 Sappho 7 B.C. 550, 500. Solon connects 'the poetical and intellectual age of Greece,' and is ' the first extant author of Attic prose composition.' He was a poet ; but ' as a general rule the poet is absorbed in the philosopher and statesman.' 8 In B.C. 535,1.6. twenty years after his death, 'dramatic entertainments were first introduced into Athens.' 9 The Seven Sages, ' all more celebrated as philosophers or statesmen than as poets.' 10 No people have been so little in- fluenced by others : therefore we can in them best learn the normal march of the mind. In Greece for the first time we find something like history ; and I will trace the steps through which the national intellect passed before reaching history. The oldest religious sanctuary was 'in the north, established, as usual, in the early ages of paganism, on the loftiest mountain ridge of the district preferred. This sanctuary was the oracle of the Great Dodonsean Jove in the rugged highlands of Thesprotia.' ' ! Doric was ' the favourite language of the higher branches of lyric composition, and of the primitive schools of philosophy, . . . while the new Ionic and Attic were preferred in elegy, satire, the drama, and more popular departments of prose ; ' and Herodotus, though ' a native of the Dorian Halicarnassus, prefers the Ionic for the composition of his history;' because the Attic was not yet popular; though a little later its employment by Thucydides gained for it ' an almost universal preference in every branch of prose composition.' 12 1 Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iii. pp. 5, 231. - Ibid. pp. 46, 49. 5 Ibid. pp. 131, 134. 4 Ibid. p. 156. 5 Ibid. pp. 173, 174. 6 Ibid. p. 198. 7 Ibid. p. 275. 8 Ibid. pp. 344, 345, 362. 9 Ibid. p. 359. 10 Ibid. p. 377. 11 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. i. p. 38. '* Ibid. pp. 121, 122. 364 FRAGMENTS The Attic dialect now continued to progress, and by the en- couragement of Philip of Macedon, became ' the classical dialect of the whole Hellenic world.' l 'The old poetic Ionic or Homeric' soon fell into disuse ; but ' the later Ionic is the source whence the classical Attic of Thucydides and Plato derived its origin.' 2 Mure says, 'With the exception of a few obscure Italiote or Sicilian writers, who adhered to their native Doric, the historians and philosophers of every district of Greece seems to have written in Ionic prior to the ascendency of the Attic dialect in the latter part of the fifth century B.C.' The fashion set by the Ionian Hecataeus was followed by the ^olian Hellanicus, and the Dorian Herodotus.' 4 In the Penny Cyclopaedia it is said of the Dorians, ' Their first settlement was in Phthiotis in the time of Deucalion ;. the next under Dorus in Hestiseotis, at the foot of Ossa and Olympus : the third on Mount Pindus, after they had been expelled by the Cadmeans from Hestiaeotis . . . the migration of the Dorians to the Peloponnese, which is generally called the Return of the Descendants of Hercules, is expressly stated to have occurred eighty years after the Trojan War, i.e. in 1104 B.C. (Thucyd. i. i2)/ Their religion rose in the most distant part of Greece and on the highest mountains. Heyne says that 'Homer always calls the Muses Olympian, and that the Homeric gods are the Olympian,, and no others.' 5 ' A careful survey of the passages in Homer and Hesiod, in which Olympos occurs, will lead us to believe that the Achseans held the Thessalian Olympos, the highest mountain with which they were acquainted, to be the abode of their gods.' 6 ' The Greeks of the early ages regarded the lofty Thessalian mountain named Olympos as the dwelling of their gods.' 7 As civilization descended south it became still more human, and reached its highest point in the east, where Athens was accessible and nature feeble. Keightley B says of Homer, ' The practice of assigning birthplaces on earth to the gods does not seem to have prevailed in his age.' ' Pieria, in Macedonia, is said by'Hesiod (Theog. 53) to have been the birthplace of the Muses ; and every- thing relating to them proves the antiquity of the tradition of the worship and knowledge of these goddesses having come from 1 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. i. pp. 125, 126. * Ibid. vol. iv. pp. 112, 117. 3 Ibid. p. 114. 4 Ibid. p. 523, et seq. 5 Keightley, p. 17. 6 Ibid. p. 38. 7 Ibid. p. 72. 8 Ibid. p. 159. GREECE 365 the north into Hellas. 1 Almost all the mountains, grots, and springs from which they have derived their appellations, or which were sacred to them, are, we may observe, in Macedonia, Thessaly, or Boeotia. Such are the mountains Pimplae, Pindos, Parnassos, Helicon, the founts Hippocrene, Aganippe, Leibethron, Castalia, and the Corycian cave.' 2 Writing was known in Greece from the ninth or tenth century B.C., but 'the first successful essay in popular prose literature cannot be traced beyond the sixth century B.C.' 3 Herodotus first infused life and method into history, 4 but ' the first Greek his- torian of real events was Charon of Lampsacus, B.C. 500-450.' 5 Also Acusilaus and Pherecydes. 6 But the first proper historian is Scylax. 7 Hecataeus (B.C. 520, 479) is the only one Herodotus quotes ; 8 of Homer and Herodotus Mure says, 9 ' The one is the perfection of epic poetry, the other, the perfection of epic prose.' At PP- 35 2 >.3^9 [vol. iv.], Mure has collected ample evidence of that miserable credulity of Herodotus which some writers affect to deny. He had in truth too much of the poet. He lived to late into the fifth perhaps into the fourth century. 10 He was born at Halicarnassus in Caria. 11 Sea. 'Of the Euxine sea no knowledge is manifested in Homer. . . . The strong sense of the danger of the sea expressed by the poet Hesiod.' 12 However, says Grote (vol. ii. p. 162), ' The extension of Grecian traffic and shipping is manifested by a comparison of the Homeric and Hesiodic poems : in respect to knowledge of places and countries the latter being probably referable to dates between B.C. 740 and B.C. 640.' The Greek coast is full of indentations a fact well pointed out by Strabo (ii. 293) ; and ' Cicero notices emphatically both the general maritime accessibility of Grecian towns, and the effect of that circumstance on Grecian character ; ' 13 and other ancients observe that maritime habits enliven the imagination, and give a greater tolerance of feeling towards strange customs and readi- 1 Buttmann, Mytholog. vol. i. p. 293 ; Voss, Myth. Book IV. chap. iii. ; Miiller, Orchom. p. 381 ; Proleg. p. 219. 2 Keightley, p. 159. 3 Mure's Hist of Greek Literature, vol. iv. p. 51. 4 Ibid. p. 74. 6 Ibid. pp. 72, 164, 168. ' Ibid. pp. 133. 134. 7 Ibid. p. 139. 8 Ibid. pp. 140, 141. 9 Ibid. p. 242. 10 Ibid. p. 245. " Ibid. pp. 248, 249. 13 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. ii. pp. 136, 137. 13 Ibid. p. 295. 366 FRAGMENTS ness to receive them; l hence Lacedemonian stability and Athenian- versatility. 2 Euboea ' is separated from Boaotia at one point by a strait so narrow that the two were connected by a bridge.' * Solon, B.C. 594, was the first great reformer ; 4 and he, in his busi- ness as a merchant, had ' visited many parts of Greece and Asia.' 5 1 It is rare to find a genuine Greek colony established at any distance from the sea.' 6 Greek ships always kept in sight of the coast. 7 Themistocles changed Athens ' from a land power into a sea power.' 8 Athens, the only maritime power, was the most in- tellectual ; and her intellectual splendour accompanied or directly succeeded her conversion into a sea power. In the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides ' reckons the sea as a portion of the Athenian territory ; and even the portion of sea near to Peloponnesus much more that on the coast of Ionia.' 9 ^gean and Adriatic seas both narrow, hence encouraged men to navigate, for in those barbarous ages they dared not lose sight of the coast. And, though sailors are more superstitious than me- chanics, or even than soldiers, still they are less so than shepherds ; besides, new ideas were brought in, and the friction of minds. Thucydides 10 says, ' The whole Laconian coast is a high pro- jecting cliff, where it fronts the Sicilian and Cretan seas,' and was so generally inaccessible that ' the only portion of the coast of La- conia where a maritime invader could do much damage, was in the interior of the Laconic Gulf, near Helos, Gythium, &c., which is, in fact, the only plain portion of the coast of Laconia.' 11 Grote 12 says, in the fourth century B.C., 'Sparta had no seamen except constrained Helots or paid foreigners (Xen. Hellen. vii. L 13, 12).' Among the Egyptians 'sea voyages were looked upon as sacrilegious.' 13 Mure 14 says that the Athenians represented the ' intellect of Greece, but wanted imagination ' : and from Homer to B.C. 560, when we find ' in every other part of Greece brilliant dis- plays of imaginative genius, Attica cannot boast of a single genuine development of native poetical talent.' 15 This was owing to ' the ascendant of the intellectual over the imaginative faculties 1 Crete's Hist, of Greece, voL ii. pp. 296, 297. * Ibid. p. 297. 5 Ibid. voL iii. p. 217. 4 Ibid. p. 118. 5 Ibid. p. 119. 6 Ibid. p. 238. 7 Ibid. pp. 476, 477. 8 Ibid. vol. v. pp. 70, 372. 9 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 329. 10 IV. 54. 11 Crete's Hist, of Greece, vol. vi. pp. 500, 501. 12 Ibid. vol. x. p. 57. 13 Mure's Hist of Greek Literature, vol. i. p. 71. 14 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 6. 15 Ibid. pp. 7, 8. DECLINE OF GREECE 367 in that particular modification of the Greek mind which fell to the lot of the Athenians.' * So that their development had to wait for an age of prose. 2 I think Asia produced no great prose writers. This first happened in Greece the first country that possessed historians. The first Greek prose is on geography, 3 and the two first writers on geography were Anaximander and Hecataeus, both natives of Miletus, 'a city distinguished for the zeal and extent of her colonial undertakings.' Anaximander in- vented maps ; and Hecataeus, his ' younger contemporary ' (B.C. 520, 479), ' is distinguished both as a geographer and historian, and is the first Greek prose author who obtained popularity or celebrity as a national classic.' * Hecataeus was a great traveller ; 5 and, Mure says, 6 ' The earliest Greek author of a prose work deserving the name of historical in the better sense, is the geographer Scylax of Caryanda, a town of the Halicarnassian territory ; who may also rank (521, 485) as one of the most adventurous of Greek* navigators.' Mure says, 7 ' The ^Egean sea, narrow, studded with islands, and abounding in excellent harbours.' For summary of the travels of Herodotus, see Mure, vol. iv. pp. 246-248. Dio- dorus Siculus says, 8 ' It is no wonder to see a man marry, but to see him twice marry. For it is safer and more advisable for a man to expose himself twice to the dangers of the seas than to the hazards of a second wife.' In Gorgias, chap. 51, Socrates takes for granted that no one could go on the sea for pleasure, but only to make money. 9 DECLINE OF GREECE AND DIVERGENCE OF HIGHER AND LOWER INTELLECTS. AIDED by circumstances, [which] I shall trace in another work, the Greek thinkers soon outstripped the observers ; and when the divergence between people and philosophers had reached a certain point, Greece fell. The people sunk in brutal habits, tyrannical to their slaves, hard masters and bad subjects. Maritime nations, by a law I shall presently indicate, are naturally superstitious. Thucydides 10 mentions ' how erroneously and carelessly the Athe- 1 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iv. p. 9. - Ibid. p. 47. 3 Ibid. p. 68. 4 Ibid. p. 69. 5 Ibid. p. 141. Ibid. p. 139. 7 Ibid. p. 405. 8 Book XII. chap. iii. vol. i. p. 442. By Booth. Plato's Works, vol. i. p. 160. 10 VI. 56. 368 FRAGMENTS nian public of his day retained the history of Peisistratus, only one century past.' l Observe popularity of Aristophanes and his antagonism to Socrates. The Greeks loved the theatre. 2 In the time of Lucian even the dancers were expected to know the an- cient myths 3 and they passed into the 'ordinary songs of women.' 4 See also at vol. i. of Grote, History of Greece, pp. 606 608, some curious evidence of the extent of the popular super- stitions. Indeed, until the Persian War, the only point of union between the cities were religious festivals and games ; and even B.C. 350, at the zenith of Greece, we find ' a sacred war ' of ten years. Grote 6 says, ' We shall see these two modes of anticipating the future one based upon the philosophical, the other upon the religious appreciation of nature running simultaneously on throughout Grecian history, and sharing between them in unequal portions the empire of the Greek mind : the former acquiring both greater predominance and wider application among the intellectual men, and partially restricting but never abolishing the spontaneous employment of the latter among the vulgar.' The difference between esoteric and exoteric, unknown in time of Homer, first arose between 620 and 500 B.C. 6 So late as Solon, B.C. 594, there was no prose, and the verses of Solon were ' delivered in easy metres far less difficult than the elaborate prose of subsequent writers, as Thucydides, Isocrates, or Demosthenes.' 7 Mr. Grote 8 says without ostracism the Athenian constitution must have perished. This only proves how bad the constitution was. Greek patriotism checked individuality : hence, when the foreign element of Macedonia corrupted the state every- thing fell. Even in the invasion of Xerxes Sparta showed her selfishness, and, though the heroism of Leonidas defended Ther- mopylae, she fortified the isthmus of Corinth to defend Pelopon- nesus. When Xerxes retreated the Spartans would not defend the Athenians against Mardonius. 9 The Greeks were only bound together by religion and language. When these were gone the union was gone, and each state quickly fell before the Romans. Only one generation after the Persian invasion they broke out 1 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. i. p. 603. * Ibid. p. 604. 3 Ibid. p. 604. 4 Ibid. p. 605. 5 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 156' 6 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 112. 7 Ibid. p. 119. 8 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 200. 9 Ibid. vol. v. p. 209. DECLINE OF GREECE 369 into the Peloponnesian war. See a very good note in Grote, vol. v. pp. 355, 356. The Greeks universally believed in supernatural intervention. 1 On the general question of the decline of Greece, see the fol- lowing passages, none of which will be required for my first volume, or indeed for my first work : Grote's History of Greece, vol. ii. p. 361 ; vol. viii. pp. 394, 512, 514, 515 ; vol. ix. pp. 323-326 ; vol. x. pp. 53> 99> I2 7, i9 x > 435. 5 z6 > S 2 7 ; vol. xi. pp. 280, 282, 389, 390, 406, 407,411, 521, 522, 591. On inferiority of Xenophonto Thucydides, see Grote, vol. viil pp. 155, 379. No printing, there- fore no reading ; hence knowledge being unrecorded, Greece fell at once. Wachsmuth takes every opportunity of attacking Greeks, Grote, viii. p. 412. Greeks no physical knowledge, Grote, vol. ix. pp. 21, 22. On the badness of Aristophanes as a witness, Grote, vol. vi. pp. 661, 662 ; and vol. viii. pp. 454, 457. Even Mure (Greek Literature, vol. iv. p. 395) admits that the best Greek his- torians only related external events, and cared nothing for the most important part of history, as, internal polity, laws, civil institutions, &c. The Greeks eventually paid too much attention to man, and neglected the operations of nature. Food and Diffusions of Wealth. Even the Helots of Laconia were sometimes wealthy. 2 Grote 3 says of Greece generally, ' though the aggregate population never seems to have increased very fast.' A man unable to pay his debts became the slave of the creditor : a law which filled Greece with misery until Solon abrogated it. 4 Grote says, 5 ' Greece produced wheat, barley, flax, wine, and oil in the earliest times of which we have any knowledge : in the age of Pausanias, and perhaps earlier, cotton also was grown in the terri- tory of Elis ; but the currants, Indian corn, silk, and tobacco, are an addition of more recent times.' In the time of Thucydides the Lacedemonian soldiers seem to have had a good allowance of barley, meat, and wine. 6 Athens, in her great distress, B.C. 413, ' with the view of increasing her revenue, altered the principle on -which her subject allies had hitherto been assessed. Instead of a 1 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. viii. pp. 562, 563 ; vol. ix. pp. 312, 496. See also my note on Vices and Superstitions of Greeks, and Grote, vol. vi. p. 400 ; vol. vii. pp. 65, 84. 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 496. 3 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 227. 4 Ibid. vol. iii. pp. 126, 129, 132. 5 Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 302, 303. 6 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 445. VOL. I. B B 370 FRAGMENTS fixed sum of annual tribute she now required from them payment of a duty of five per cent, on all imports and exports by sea.' l In B.C. 407, Lysander, the Lacedemonian admiral, visited Cyrus at Sardis, and requested him ' to restore the rate of pay to one full Attic drachma per head for the seamen ; which had been the rate promised by Tissaphernes through his envoys at Sparta, when he first invited the Lacedemonians across the ^Egean : ' but this Cyrus deemed too exorbitant, and refused. 2 He, however, consented to raise their pay from three to four oboli daily. 3 In a drachma there were three oboli. 4 Boeckh 5 says that in the time of Agesilaus, king of Sparta, an Athenian, named Euripides, proposed to raise five hundred talents by an assessed property tax on the Athenians of two and a half per cent. : but this Grote entirely doubts. 6 About B.C. 379 the Lacedemonians made war on Olynthus, and made upon their own allies an assessment by which instead of one hoplite each city might furnish 'three ^Eginean oboli, half an ^Eginean drachma. ... A cavalry soldier being equivalent to four hoplites, and one hoplite to two peltasts.' 7 In B.C. 352, 351, Demosthenes estimates the price of maintenance independent of pay to be for ' each seaman and each foot soldier ten drachmae per month, or two oboli per day ; each horseman thirty drachmae per month, or one drachma per day. No difference is made be- tween the Athenian citizen and the foreigner.' 8 In B.C. 378, 377, a great change was introduced in the mode of taxing Athens. According to the division made by Solon, there were four classes, of which the poorest paid no 'direct taxes,' while the three others paid a ' graduated or progressive tax ' on property. This, with some modification, continued till B.C. 378, when several alterations were made, but the same principle continued of taxing the wealthier classes relatively more than the poorer, i.e. making them pay a higher percentage. 9 Homer, with only two excep- tions, confines the 'animal diet of the Greeks to the flesh of domestic quadrupeds, oxen, sheep, goats, hogs,' and never alludes 1 Thucydid. vii. 28. Grote, vol. vii. p. 489 ; but at vol. viii. p. 180, Grote doubts if this was really carried into effect. 1 Grote, vol. viii. pp. 191, 192. 5 Ibid. p. 193. 4 Ibid. p. 192. 5 Boeckh, Public Economy of Athens, vol. iv. p. 493. 6 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. ix. pp. 528, 530, note. 7 Ibid. vol. x. p. 77. 8 Ibid. vol. ix. p. 436. 9 Ibid. vol. x. pp. 153, 154, 155, 156, 161. DECLINE OF GREECE 371 to their eating game, poultry, or fish. 1 Sir W. Jones 2 says that about the time of the Peloponnesian War ' the disadvantages and odium which attended an excess of riches were considerably greater at Athens than the benefits or pleasures arising from affluence.' Jones's comprehensive knowledge made him a good judge of the evidence supplied by laws. The Greeks were ac- quainted with butter, but never ate it ; nor does Aristotle even allude to it, though they did eat cheese. 3 In the Republic, 4 ' Even from Homer one may learn such things as these ; for you know that in their military expeditions, at their heroes' banquets, he never feasts them with fish, not even while they were by the sea at the Hellespont, nor yet with boiled flesh, but only with roast meat, or what soldiers can most easily procure.' In the Laws, an interest is mentioned of sixteen and a half per cent, monthly, but this seems intended as a punishment. 5 Method. The physical conformation of Greece secured the independence of different states ; but the feebleness of nature likewise secured for the first time a filling consciousness of human power individually. Food and climate tended to humanise the Greek religion by enabling the people for the first time in the history of the world to be civilized without being subjected by their rulers (for before this time only hunters and pastoral tribes had been free). Egypt pent between the impassable deserts of Africa and Arabia. Human. The religion of Greece, as it is recorded by their oldest theologians, Homer and Hesiod, stands in the strongest contrast with that of India. They do not begin with gods. Ac- cording to Hesiod, first comes Chaos or Space, who produces Night ; and this last Day. The Earth produces Heaven. 6 The celestial phenomena themselves, as thunder and lightning, are only the children of Heaven and Earth. 7 Kronos is the offspring of the Earth and Heaven, or Uranos. 8 The offspring of Kronos is Zeus or Jupiter; 9 and now begin the Olympian gods. 10 In 1 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iii. p. 486. 1 Jones's Works, vol. iv. p. 234. 3 Thomson's Animal Chemistry, p. 425. 4 Republic, Book III. chap. xiii. Plato's Works, vol. ii. p. 86. * Laws, Book XI. chap. v. Plato's Works, vol. v. p. 470. 6 Keightley's Mythology of Greece and Italy, 1838, 8vo, pp. 43, 45. 7 Ibid. pp. 45, 78. 8 Ibid. p. 43. * Ibid. p. 44. 10 Ibid. p. 68. IS I: 2 372 FRAGMENTS Homer Juno or Hera is wife or sister of Jupiter. 1 Vulcan or Hephaestos ' is in Homer the son of Zeus and Hera.' 2 Apollo is the son of Zeus and Leto. 3 Diana or Artemis ' the daughter of Zeus and Leto.' 4 Venus or Aphrodite ' the daughter of Zeus and Dione.' 5 Hermes or Mercury 'is in one place of the Iliad called the son of Zeus.' 6 There were few gloomy and impassable forests to terrify the mind into superstition ; nor earthquakes which, when they did happen, were regarded by the Greeks as omens. Gods were exaggerated heroes, and their heroes were exag- gerated men. Hercules, Theseus, Jason, Minos, Ulysses, Aga- memnon, Perseus, Cecrops, Medea, even in her incantations, used human means, the fatal kettle and the poisoned robe ; the cup of Circe ; the thread and scissors of the Fates. The siege of Troy (we might as well believe Jack the Giant-killer) ; the labours of Hercules ; the Argonautic expedition ; Jason's search for the fleece ; the wanderings of Ulysses ; the travels of yEneas ; the feats of Agamemnon. Gods and goddesses in love with mortals ; the loves of Venus and Anchises, 7 Cupid and Psyche, 8 intrigue of Mercury with the daughter of Cecrops. 9 Apollo was a keeper of oxen. 10 The box of Pandora (commonly called a box, though more properly a jar). 11 Keightley says, 12 the gods 'are sus- ceptible of injury by mortal weapons ; the arrows of Hercules violate the divine bodies of Hera and Hades. 13 Diomedes wounds both Aphrodite and Ares. 14 They require nourishment as men do ; their food is called Ambrosia, their drink Nectar. It is not blood, but a blood-like fluid named ichor, which flows in their veins.' 15 'They mourned for the death of Adonis ; and on this account Lobeck 16 inquires whether the ancient nations, who es- teemed their gods to be so little superior to men, may not have believed them to have been really, and not metaphorically, put to death ; and, in truth, it is not easy to give a satisfactory answer to these questions.' 17 The Greeks worshipped Fortune. 18 Hippocrates was the first who separated medicine from those vague speculations called phi- 1 Keightley, p. 96. - Ibid. p. 107. 3 Ibid. p. 113. 4 Ibid. p. 128. 5 Ibid. p. 139. 6 Ibid. p. 159. 7 Ibid. p. 140. s Ibid. p. 148. 9 Ibid. p. 164. 10 Ibid. p. 161. n Ibid. p. 296. i-' Ibid. p. 73. 13 Iliad, v. 392, 395. 14 Keightley, p. 335, 855. 15 Ibid. 340. 416. 16 Aglaophamus, p. 691. 17 Keightley, p. 144. 18 Ibid. p. 202. DECLINE OF GREECE 373 losophy. Comparative anatomy now first studied. Broussais 1 says of Aristotle, 'II est aussi le fondateur de 1'anatomie com- paree.' Such is now the sense of the importance of man. For an account of what Aristotle did for medicine see Renouard, Histoire de la Medecine, i. pp. 239-258. Renouard 2 says, 'II crea 1'anatomie et la physiologic comparee.' Renouard says a that Hippocrates was born about B.C. 460. Even Diodorus Sicu- lus, the most credulous and unphilosophical of all the Greek his- torians, says, when speaking of premature births, ' But such births are not used to live, either because it is not the pleasure of the gods it should be so, or that the law of nature will not admit it.' * At p. 50, book i. cap. 4, he contemptuously says of Egypt, 'The inhabitants of this country little value the short time of this present life.' At book i. chap. 6, vol. i. p. 83, 'The adoration and worshipping of beasts among the Egyptians seems justly to many a most strange and unaccountable thing.' In a speech in Diodorus Siculus 5 'for which of the Grecians ever put to death those that submitted and delivered up themselves upon hopes and belief of mercy from the conquerors ? ' See also in book xvii. cap. 7, vol. ii. p. 214, what he says about the Persians mutilating their captives. In the learned life of Plato in Smith's Dictionary, it is said, vol. iii. pp. 402, 403, that in Plato's Timaeus important physiological and therapeutical truths are to be found ; and reference is made to J. H. Martin, Etudes sur le Timee de Platon, Paris, 1841. Herodotus 6 contemptuously says, 'Among the Lydians, and almost all the barbarians, it is deemed a great disgrace even for a man to be seen naked.' Even Herodotus, one of the most religious of men, traces the human origin of his religion. He says, 7 ' I am of opinion that Hesiod and Homer lived four hundred years before my time, and not more ; and these were they who framed a theogony for the Greeks, and gave names to the gods, and assigned to them honours and acts, and declared their several forms.' He says 8 that in the expedition of Xerxes against Greece, ' the officers of the company from behind having 1 Broussais, Examen des Doctrines M&licales, tome i. pp. u, 12, 63. * Rdnouard, Histoire de la Medecine, tome i. p. 256. 3 Ibid. p. 133. 4 Diod. Sic. Book I. chap. ii. vol. i. p. 29. Booth. Compare vol. ii. p. 37. 5 Ibid. Book XIII. chap. ii. vol. i. p. 507. 6 Herodotus, Book I. chap. x. p. 5. 7 Ibid. Book II. chap. liii. p. 116. 8 Book VII. chap, ccxxiii. p. 487. 374 FRAGMENTS scourges, flogged every man, constantly urging them forward.' At viii. 105, p. 527, Herodotus says, 'With the barbarians, eunuchs are more valued than others on account of their perfect fidelity.' The Greeks thought it disgraceful to insult dead bodies. 1 Plato 2 distinguishes between the legislative and judicial func- tions ; comparing the former to gymnastics and the latter to medicine. 3 In the Republic, 4 ' Not long since the sight of naked men appeared base and disgusting to the Greeks, just as now, indeed, it does to most of the barbarians.' It was shameful to strip and plunder a dead enemy. 6 ' At Athens there was a body of medical men paid by the state, as well as those in private.' 6 The Thracians reproached the Greek physicians that they at- tempted to cure the body without paying attention to the soul. 7 Plato 8 attacks the notion of hereditary and aristocratic honour ; and in the Laws 9 he contrasts the Greek democracy as one ex- treme, with the Persian monarchy as the other. At pp. 109, 138, he says men must not have office and honour because they are rich. In a passage apparently corrupt 10 he says that mankind probably always existed. Plato says, l * ' Not even a god can use force against necessity.' AFRICA. Method. Diodorus Siculus, Plutarch. At the end of vol. i. of Bunsen's Egypt, p. 60 1, et seg., are collected all the passages in ancient writers respecting Egypt. See p. xxxviii. Bunsen 12 speaks in highest terms of Plutarch's Isis and Osiris ; which he says is based on Manetho. Diodorus Siculus is the latest of the ancients who studied Egyptian history. 13 Diodorus Siculus is said u to have ' travelled over a great part of Europe and Asia,' and ' Scaliger has made it highly probable that he wrote the work after B.C. 8.' Diodorus 'did nothing but collect,' and 'the absence of criticism 1 Herodotus, Book IX. chap. Ixxix. p. 576. 2 Works, vol. i. p. 130. 3 Gorgias, chap. xliv. xlvi. clix. in Plato's Works, vol. i. pp. 156, 157, 224. 4 Book V. chap iii. Plato's Works, vol. ii. p. 136. 5 Ibid. Book V. chap. xv. Plato's Works, vol. ii. p. 155. 6 Note in Plato's Works, vol. iii. p. 192. 7 Charmides, chap. ix. Plato's Works, vol. iv. p. 118. 8 Menexenus, chap. xix. Plato's Works, vol. iv. p. 204. 9 Laws, Book III. chap. xii. Plato's Works, vol. v. p. 105. 10 Laws, Book VI. chap. xxii. Plato's Works, vol. v. p. 242. 11 Plato's Works, vol. v. pp. 177, 301. 12 Egypt, vol. i. p. 63. 13 Ibid. pp. 136, 152. 14 Smith's Biog. Diet. vol. i. p. 1016. AFRICA 375 is manifest throughout the work.' l Herodotus is known to have been born B.C. 484. 2 'There is no reason for supposing that he made himself acquainted with the Egyptian language.' 3 'He travelled to the south of Egypt as far as Elephantine.' 'His visit to Egypt may be ascribed to about B.C. 450.'* Plutarch, 'a youth or young man in A. D. 66.' 5 Diodorus Siculus 6 speaks with great contempt of Herodotus's account of Egypt Geography. In Africa, owing to bad soil, climate, &c., there was neither accumulation nor diffusion of wealth, except in Egypt, which, with part of Arabia, forms a sandy plain irrigated by the Nile and Red Sea. Southern Africa is ' destitute of great rivers.' Somerville's Physical Geography, voL L p. 141. Africa has the smallest ' coast line ' in proportion to its surface of any of the four quarters of the world Europe has the most. Somerville, Physical Geog. i. p. 53. At p. 52 she says, 'All the shores of Europe are deeply indented and penetrated by the Atlantic ocean, which has formed a number of inland seas of great magnitude, so that it has a greater line of maritime coast, compared with its size, than any other quarter of the world.' The greater part of Africa is a barren waste ; 7 and the civilization of Carthage was borrowed, planted not indigenous. Rain does fall in Upper Egypt about five or six times in the year: in Lower Egypt more frequently. 8 Hamilton 9 says that from the descriptions of Strabo ' it is evident he never was within any of their sacred buildings.' See p. 113 on the errors of Diodorus Siculus. Human. The Egyptians knew nothing of anatomy. 10 Mill n quotes Wilford, in Asiatic Researches, iii. 296, who says, ' Nor had the Egyptians any work purely historical' Their utter igno- rance of drawing man is shown by the hideous figures in Sir G. ^Yilkinson's valuable work, in which see the remarks at vol. iii. pp. 264, 265. Wilkinson 12 says, ' Many histories of Egypt were written at different periods by native as well as foreign authors, which have unfortunately been lost.' Indeed, he allows 13 that * history seems so entirely excluded from their mythological sys- I Smith's Biog. Diet vol. i. p. 1016. * Smith, vol. ii. p. 431. s Ibid. p. 433. 4 Ibid. p. 433. 5 Smith, vol. iii. p. 429. 6 Booth's Trans, vol. i. p. 72. ~ Somerville's Physical Geography, vol. i. pp. 148, 149. 8 Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. iv. p. 10. 9 Hamilton's Egyptiaca, p. 59. 10 Renouard, Histoire de la Medecine, tome i. p. 36. II Mill's Hist. Brit. India, vol. ii. pp. 67, 68. i* Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. i. p. 20. ir> Ibid. vol. iv. p. 206. 3/6 FRAGMENTS tern, and so completely a thing apart from it, that we may doubt if it was admitted into it, even at the earliest periods,' and this, as he well says, was the subordination of physical and historical to the metaphysical. Wilkinson * says ' Though the Egyptians were fond of buffoonery and gesticulation, they do not seem to have had any public show which can be said to resemble a theatre ; nor were their pantomimic exhibitions, which consisted chiefly in dancing and gesture, accompanied with any scenic representation.' It is remarkable 2 that Egyptian artists were more skilful in re- presenting animals than in the human figure. They knew nothing of medicine. 3 Nor is Wilkinson 4 more successful in his attempt to ascribe to them a knowledge of chemistry. In war, the hands of the slain were cut off, and sometimes their tongues. 5 With the exception of the Alexandrian school, a late and foreign offshoot, they had nothing approaching to historians. Of Horapollo nothing is known. Bunsen 6 says, ' Manetho, the most distinguished his- torian, sage, and scholar of Egypt.' But he lived under Ptolemy I., and wrote in Greek. 7 Then we have Ptolemy and Apion, both Alexandrians. 8 Chaeremon, also an Alexandrian, and the pre- ceptor of Nero, also wrote a history of Egypt. 9 Bunsen 10 doubts whether he was ' an Egyptian educated at Alexandria, or an Alex- andrian of Greek origin.' Bunsen J ! says, ' The fourth Egyptian is Heraikos, a mystical saint of Alexandria, apparently about the commencement of the Neo-Platonic school in the third century. . . . This is all we hear of Manetho's Egyptian successors within the province of history.' Herodotus 12 says that in Egypt 'each physician applies himself to one disease only, and not more.' The Egyptian monuments prove the barbarous treatment of prisoners of war. 13 Hoskins l4 says the Egyptians drew the human form so badly because they superstitiously copied the older figures of their deities depicted on their temples. It was not till the Egyptians were fertilised by Greek mind that they produced their only his- torian, Manetho. 1 Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. ii. p. 259. - Ibid. vol. iii. p. 269. 3 Ibid. pp. 389, 393, 396 ; vol. v. p. 460. 4 Ibid. vol. iii. pp. 132, 133. 5 Ibid. vol. i. p. 393 ; vol. iii. p. 293. For cruel punishments, see vol. ii. p. 46. 6 Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. p. 56. 7 See Manetho, in Smith's Biography. 8 Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. p. 90. 9 Smith's Biog. Diet. vol. i. p. 678. 10 Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. pp. 92, 94. n Ibid. p. 95. 12 Herodotus, Book II. chap. Ixxxiv. p. 125. 13 See Hamilton's Egyptiaca, pp. 118, 145, 146, 156, 157. 14 Hoskins's Travels in Ethiopia, pp. 354, 355. AFRICA 377 Immense. Mill 1 says, 'A single king of Egypt was believed to have reigned three myriads of years. Eusebii Chronicon, p. 5, Syncelli Chron. p. 28. Bryant's Ancient Mythology, iv. 127, 8vo.' Wilkinson * says, ' The oldest monuments of Egypt, and probably of the world, are the pyramids to the north of Memphis.' On their dimensions see iv. p. 26. Pliny's remark on the Pyramids seems to me very just, though it has called forth the indignation of the enthusiastic Bunsen. 3 The Pyramids, the Labyrinth, and the Lake of Mceris [see] Egypt, in Edinburgh Cabinet Library, p. 132. After these Dendera, pp. 188, 201. At p. 237, 'In no part of Egypt are more colossal sculptures seen on the walls of a public building than on the larger temple at Edfou.' At p. 244, ' The temples of Karnac and Luxor, the tomb of Gornoo, and the Grottos of Eleithias.' Thebes. On the colossal statues of Memnon see pp. 214, 217. At p. 74, it is said that Plutarch mentions that Stesicrates proposed to Alexander the Great to turn Mount Athos into a statue of him. Hamilton 4 says, ' The Egyptian sculptor seems to have excelled in the gigantic style : in them the outline is bolder and more true than in the smaller composi- tions.' He says 5 that the great temple of Thebes is even bigger than Diodorus Siculus describes it. There is a notion in Egypt that the Pyramids were built as a protection against any future deluge. 6 The finest buildings are at Philae, 24 N. lat., where it was believed Osiris was buried. 7 He thinks 8 that the monuments are from ' the granite quarries of Syene ; ' but he says, 9 that in Upper Egypt they are chiefly of sandstone. The Pyramids of Meroe were not built for astronomical purposes, and they are even said to contain no chambers. 10 Abd Allah says of one of the Pyramids, ' Lorsqu'on 1'aborde de pres et que les yeux ne voient plus qu'elle, elle inspire une sorte de saisissement, et Ton ne peut la considerer sans que la vue se fatigue.' Relation de 1'Egypte, p. 173. Stationary. The Egyptians hated strangers. 11 Hamilton " a 1 Hist. British India, vol. i. p. 155. 3 Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. i. p. 19. 5 Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. p. 155. 4 Hamilton's Egyptiaca, p. 89. 5 Ibid. p. 124. 6 Ibid. p. 29. 7 Ibid. pp. 43-49. 8 Ibid. p. 68. Ibid. p. 112. 10 Hoskins's Travels in Ethiopia, pp. 70, 153. 11 Laws, Book XII. chap. vi. in Plato's Works, vol. v. p. 519. 13 Hamilton's Egyptiaca, p. 18. 378 FRAGMENTS says : ' The monuments of antiquity in Upper Egypt present a very uniform appearance ; and his first impressions incline the traveller to attribute them to the same or nearly the same epoch.' Distribution of Wealth. Mill, 1 quoting Herodotus, 2 Strabo, 3 Diodorus Siculus 4 says : ' In Egypt the king was the sole pro- prietor of the land : and one-fourth of the produce appears to have been yielded to him as revenue or rent.' The population at its zenith was 7,500,000 (see Wilkinson, i. pp. 216, 217, where there is a very vague statement as to the area ; and see vol. i. p. 1 80). The wealth and luxury of the higher classes was extraordinary : and 'the very great distinction between them and the lower classes is remarkable as well in the submissive obeisance to their superiors as in their general appearance, their dress, and the style of their houses.' 6 ' Nor was anyone per- mitted to meddle with political affairs, or to hold any civil office in the state. ... If any artizan meddled with political affairs, or engaged in any other employment than the one to which he had been brought up, a severe punishment was instantly inflicted upon him.' 6 'The fourth caste was composed of pastors, poulterers, fowlers, fishermen, labourers, servants, and common people.' 7 They hated shepherds, and would not allow a swineherd even to enter their temples. 8 Wilkinson 9 says of the land that ' a fifth part (I suppose of the produce) was annually paid to the government by the Egyptian peasant.' At p. 263 he adopts the assertion of Diodorus, that the only landed pro- prietors were the king, the priests, and the military order ; the land being equally divided into three parts. 10 Religion. Wilkinson says : u 'The idea of death among the ancients was less revolting than among Europeans and others at the present day, and so little did the Egyptians object to have it brought before them, that they even introduced the mummy of a deceased relative at their parties, and placed it at table as one of the guests.' At p. 204, vol. iv., the Egyptians ' were unquestionably the most pious of all the heathen nations of 1 Mill's Hist, of British India, vol. i. p. 303. * Herodotus, Book II. chap. xix. 3 Strabo, lib. xvii. p. 1135. Diod. Sic. lib. ii. sec. 2, chap. xxiv. 5 Wilkinson's Egypt, vol. i. pp. 232, 235. 6 Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 8, 9. 7 Ibid. p. 15. 8 ibid. pp. 16, 17. 9 Ibid. vol. i. p. 74. 1 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 2. Ibid. p. 414. AFRICA 379 antiquity.' Wilkinson says, 1 'Next to the king, the priests held the first rank, and from them were chosen his confidential and responsible advisers, the judges, and all the principal officers of state.' At p. 282 : 'Besides their religious duties, the priests fulfilled the important offices of judges and legislators, as well as counsellors of the monarch.' 2 At p. 271, vol. v. : 'Even military regulations were subject to the influence of the sacerdotal caste.' At vol. i. p. 262, Wilkinson says, 'The priests were not obliged to make the same sacrifice of their landed property, nor was the tax of the fifth part of the produce entailed upon it as on that of the other people (Gen. xlvii. 26).' Wilkinson 3 says, ' Justly did the priests deride the ridiculous vanity and ignorance of the Greeks in deriving their origin from the gods.' Wilkinson 4 says, that if the Egyptians ever did offer human sacrifices, it must have been at a period anterior to all their monuments. 5 But since Plutarch quotes as his authority Manetho, 6 I do not agree with Wilkinson that ' it is scarcely necessary to attempt a refutation of so improbable a tale.' The Egyptians had esoteric and exoteric religion. 7 The Greeks laughed at the Egyptians for worshipping animals. 8 Indeed they even adored ' fabulous insects and fabulous quadrupeds.' 9 The sense of the dignity of man prevented the Greeks from believing that our souls went into animals. There is plenty of evidence of their [the Egyptians] worship of animals in Wilkinson, who however sometimes at- tempts to invalidate testimony by the negative argument of the non-existence of evidence on the monuments. On transmigration of the soul, see Wilkinson, vol. v. p. 440-446. At p. 446 he quotes Caesar, that 'the Druids believed in the migration of the soul though they confined it to human bodies.' A curious proof of the European human element. Human sacrifices are not men- tioned on the [Egyptian] monuments ; but there is no doubt that they u>ere practised in Egypt, though they are said to have been abolished under the old empire. 10 Diodorus Siculus u says that the Egyptian priests 'are free from all public taxes and 1 Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. i. p. 257. * Ibid. vol. ii. p. 23. s Ibid. voL iv. p. 169. 4 IWd. p. 269. 5 Ibid. vol. v. pp. 43, 341, 344. c Ibid. p. 341. 7 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 275. 8 Ibid. pp. 161, 162 ; vol. v. p. 96. 9 Ibid. vol. v. p. 128. 10 Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. pp. 17, 18, 65, 441. 11 Lib. I. cap. vi. vol. i. p. 76. By Booth. 380 FRAGMENTS impositions, and are in the second place to the king in honour and authority.' Herodotus says l ' They are of all men the most excessively attentive to the worship of the gods.' At ii. 64,. p. 119, 'The Egyptians, then, are beyond measure scrupulous in all things concerning religion.' At book ii. chap. Ixvi. he says, p. 2i, of the Egyptians, 'In whatever house a cat dies of a natural death, all the family shave their eyebrows only; but if a dog die they shave the whole body and the head.' Richardson 2 found at Ghadames, in 30 N. lat., that ' the notion of the trans- migration of souls lingers in these parts, but is a doctrine not generally received.' Plato 3 believed that the human soul trans- migrated even into beasts (see the Statesman, chap, xxx) ' In Egypt it is not permitted for a king to govern without the sacerdotal science, and should anyone, previously of another caste of men, become by violence the king, he is afterwards compelled to be initiated into the mysteries of this caste.' 4 Their religion is like that of India but from similarity of causes not from contact. ' The excavated temple of Guefeh Hassan, for instance, reminds every traveller of the cave of Elephanta.' 5 Russell 6 says that above Cairo rain, thunder, and lightning are hardly known. The combined effect of slavery (caused by mal - distribution of wealth) and superstition caused by power of nature. Russell 7 remarks that the Egyptian clergy persisted in using ' imitative and symbolic hieroglyphics ' long after they became acquainted with alphabetic and phonetic writing. The Mahometans in Kordofan ' firmly believe in metempsychosis.' * Heeren 9 says that in Upper Egypt the temples are all built of sand- stone which is found in Middle Egypt ; but that the great monu- ments of one piece were composed of the ' Syenite or oriental granite,' found near Philae. In India granites are found very like those of Syene. 10 Women. Wilkinson says among no ancient people had women 1 Herodotus, Book II. chap, xxxvii. pp. 108, 109. 2 Richardson's Travels in the Sahara, vol. i. p. 206. 3 Timaeus, chap. xvii. Plato's Works, vol. ii. pp. 317, 347. 4 Plato's Works, vol. iii. p. 244. 5 Russell's Egypt, in Edinburgh Cabinet Library, p. 21. 6 Ibid. p. 44. 7 Ibid. p. 147. 8 Pallme's Travels in Kordofan, p. 188. 9 Heeren, African Nations, vol. ii. pp. 66, 67. 10 Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. vii. pp. 122, 124. AFRICA 381 such influence and liberty. 1 Herodotus is wrong in saying women were never priestesses. 2 Polygamy was legal ; but not usual. 3 ' A woman who had committed adultery was sentenced to lose her nose ; ' the man to ' receive a bastinado of a thousand blows.' 4 According to Herodotus, 'If a son was unwilling to maintain his parents he was at liberty to refuse ; but a daughter was compelled to aid them, and on refusing was amenable to law.' This, Wilkinson, 5 without evidence, thinks proper to deny. Very young wives, treated as children, remain so by mere habit Dio- dorus Siculus 6 says of Egyptians, ' In their contracts of marriage, authority is given to the wife over her husband, at which time the husbands promise to be obedient to their wives in all things.' In lib. i. cap. vi. 7 : 'In case of adultery the man was to have a thousand lashes with rods, and the woman her nose cut off.' At p. 82, ' The priests only marry one wife, but all others may have as many wives as they please.' Herodotus 8 says, 'No woman can serve the office for any god or goddess ; but men are employed for both offices. Sons are not compelled to support their parents unless they choose, but daughters are compelled to do so whether they choose or not.' Richardson 9 says, ' There are several women now living more than eighty. How long these poor creatures survive their feminine charms ! A woman in the desert gets old after thirty.' Miiller 10 says that in Africa females attain puberty in their eighth year, in Persia in their ninth. The Arabs and Berbers of North Africa still buy their wives. ' l Richardson l2 says all the Africans like not women but very young girls. He says 13 that near Lake Tchad men always buy their wives. Mayo 14 says, * In the hottest regions of Asia, Africa, and America, girls arrive at puberty at ten, even at nine years of age ; in France not till thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen ; whilst in Sweden, Russia, and Den- mark this period is not attained till from two to three years later. ' Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. ii. pp. 58, 59, 61, 166, 389. - Ibid. vol. i. pp. 261, 262. 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 62. 4 Ibid. p. 39. 5 Ibid. p. 65. 6 Diodorus Siculus, Book I. chap. ii. vol. i. p. 33. Booth. 7 Ibid. p. 81. 8 Herodotus, Book II. chap. xxxv. p. 108. Richardson's Travels in the Desert of Sahara, vol. i. p. 362. 10 Muller's Physiology, vol. ii. p. 1480. 1 ' See Kennedy's Algeria and Tunis, vol. i. pp. 138, 280. 18 Richardson's Central Africa, vol. i. pp. 218, 219. '" Ibid. vol. ii. p. 103. " Mayo's Human Physiology, 391. 382 FRAGMENTS Habits of activity and bodily exertion retard the arrival of puberty.' At Konka on Lake Tchad, and in the Mardara country about 10 N. lat., women are guarded by eunuchs. 1 In Central Africa the heat is immense. 2 At Katunga, in 9 N. lat, women are bought as wives, 3 and also north of Katunga. Russell says, 4 ' For various reasons, especially the want of trees and the low elevation of the whole plain from Rosetta to Assouan, the average degree of heat in Egypt is considerably greater than in many other countries situated in the same latitude.' In Kordofan, the south-west pro- vince of Egypt, ' they grow old very rapidly, and a woman in her twenty- fourth year is considered passee.' 5 Wives bought in hot countries. In the north of Nubia, near the first cataract, girls often marry before twelve. 6 On the great heat near Shendi about 16 30' N. lat, see Hoskins, pp. 97, 126. 'The Mohammedan law prescribes that the unmarried woman shall perform the pilgrimage ' to Mecca. 7 And ' in general women are seldom seen in the mosques in the east.' 8 Sea. Wilkinson 9 says, ' Those who traded with them were confined to the town of Naucrates.' But at vol. iii. p. 191, Wil- kinson supposes ' the early existence of an Egyptian fleet.' Dio- dorus Siculus 10 says, ' It is a piece of religion, and practised among the Egyptians at this day, that those that travel abroad suffer their hair to grow until they return home.' This is illustrated by Hero- dotus. 11 who says that this was the mark of mourning: 'The Egyptians on occasions of death let the hair grow both on the head and face.' Hamilton 12 says, ' It was another principle with the Egyptian government to discourage foreign navigation ; and as a step to this it was necessary to check every mechanical and nauti- cal improvement at home.' Food. Dates in extreme south of Egypt 13 At Makkarif (18* 1 Denham's Central Africa, pp. 97, 130, 134, 215. a Ibid. pp. 92, 96, 107, 109. 3 Clapperton's Second Expedition, pp. 49, 92. 4 Russell's Egypt, in Edinburgh Cabinet Library, p. 43. 5 Pallme's Travels in Kordofan, p. 63. 6 Hoskins's Travels in Ethiopia, p. n. 7 Burckhardt's Arabia, vol. i. p. 359. 8 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 196. 9 Wilkinson's Ancient Egyptians, vol. ii. p. 76. 10 Diodorus Siculus, Book I. chap. ii. vol. i. p. 25. Booth. 11 Herodotus, Book II. chap, xxxvi. p. 108. 1J Hamilton's Egyptiaca, p. 6r. 13 Ibid. pp. 64, 71. AFRICA 383 X. lat.), close to the fifth cataract, and at Dousolah, nearly in the same latitude, both in Nubia, dourah is abundant 1 Dates the favourite and general food of Arabia. In western part of Africa the ordinary food is Shea butter, on which see COMMON PLACE BOOK, art. 1 709. Russell 2 says, ' The Phoenix dactylifera, or date tree, is of great value to the inhabitants of Egypt, many families, particularly in the upper provinces, having hardly any other food a great part of the year ; while the stones or kernels are ground for the use of the camels.' Bunsen 3 says, in Egypt 'the quality of the atmosphere is par- ticularly favourable to the generation of organic life.' Loudon 4 says, ' In a good season that is, when the rise of the Nile occasions a great expansion of its waters the profit of the proprietors of rice- fields is estimated at fifty per cent clear of all expenses.' Dio- dorus Siculus 5 says, 'In Egypt, if any tradesman meddle in civil affairs, or exercise more than one trade at once, he is grievously punished.' At lib. i. cap vi. p. 81, ' For those that lent money by contract in writing it was not lawful to take usury above what would double the stock.' Diodorus Siculus 6 says the greatest of the three pyramids occupied in making 360,000 men nearly twenty years. Herodotus 7 says, ' Swine-herds, although native Egyptians, are the only men who are not allowed to enter any of their temples.' He says 8 that in the reign of Cheops, the king ' made all the Egyptians work for himself,' drawing stones from quarries, &c. ; and that he kept 100,000 working at the same time. In ancient Egypt men were ' harnessed to the plough.' 9 Although the few Greek historians who wrote on Egypt do with characteristic igno- rance tell us nothing worth knowing, 10 still we have evidence of the monuments for the degradation of the people. When Hamilton was in Egypt, the peasants borrowed money at 25 or 30 per cent. 11 On the present horrible state of the Egyptian peasants in ' the most productive country on the face of the earth,' quote Hoskins's i Hoskins's Travels in Ethiopia, pp. 53, 179. * Russell's Egypt, in Edinburgh Cabinet Library, p. 450. ' Bunsen's Egypt, vol. i. p. 104. 4 Loudon, Encyclopaedia of Agriculture, p. 173. 5 Diodorus Siculus, Book I. cap. vi. vol. i. p. 77. Ibid. lib. i. cap. v. vol. i. p. 66. 7 Herodotus, Book II. chap, xlvii. p. 114. 8 Ibid. chap, ocxiv. pp. 144, 145. Hamilton's Egyptiaca, p. 94. 10 Ibid. p. 226. Ibid. p. 253. 384 FRAGMENTS Travels in Ethiopia, p. 231 ; and as to their abandoned vices, quote Burckhardt's Arabia, vol. ii. p. 248. At Cairo, the interest of money is 30 to 40 per cent. l ASIA. Method. In Arabia and Egypt the same food dates ; but in Arabia little accumulation of wealth; and in pastoral and nomadic countries, where there is no accumulation, there is always liberty. 2 The three parts of the world where nature is most potent, are Asia, Africa, and America, and in none of them could man work out civilization. The pressure was too great, and he could only do it in Europe ; and first in feeble Greece. Wilson 3 seems to adopt Colebroke's estimate that the Vedas are ' about fourteen centuries prior to the Christian era.' Wilson 4 praises 'the valuable works of Colonel Vans Kennedy on the affinity between ancient and Hindoo mythology.' General Briggs 5 places the Vedas at B.C. 14. Diffusion of Wealth. Incredible numbers followed Xerxes into Greece. 6 The gigantic works of Babylon and Nineveh were produced by slaves, squandering labour instead of economizing it by machinery. They are proofs, not of civilization, but of barbarism. Grote 7 says that such great works proved 'a concentrated popula- tion under one government, and above all an implicit submission to the regal and priestly sway, contrasting forcibly with the small autonomous communities of Greece and Western Europe, wherein the will of the individual citizen was so much more energetic and uncontrolled.' The Persian soldiers were driven into battle by whips. 8 Xenophon describes the luxuriant food the Greeks saw in Retreat of Ten Thousand. 9 Enormous wealth of a Phrygian in time of Xerxes. 10 In India, different governments succeed 1 Burckhardt's Arabia, vol. ii. p. 246. * [See] vols. vii. and viii. of Sir W. Jones. [They] are 1 think in Asiatic Re- searches. Colebroke's Digest of Hindoo Law. On Halhed's Code, see Wilson's note in Mill's Hist, of Brit. India, vol. i. p. 283. 3 Note in Vishnu Purana, p. 225. And his Introduction to Rig Veda Sanhita, p. xlviii. 4 Vishnu Purana, p. xv. 5 Report of British Association for 1850, p. 169. 6 Mure's Hist, of Greek Literature, vol. iv. pp. 399-401. Also Crete's Hist, of Greece, vol. v. pp. 43, 48, 52. 7 Crete's Hist, of Greece, vol. iii. p. 402. 8 Ibid. vol. vi. p. 613. 9 Ibid. vol. ix. p. 79. )0 Ibid. vol. v. pp. 38, 39. ASIA 385 each other, but there was no revolution out of the government : the people never rose. The Edinburgh Cabinet Library 1 says of the present Hindoos, ' As the rent in India usually exceeds a third of the gross produce, a farm can yield only a very small income, which, however, enables the tenants to keep over their heads a house that can be built in three days of mud, straw, and leaves, to eat daily a few handfuls of rice, and to wrap themselves in a coarse cotton robe. Their situation may be considered as ranking below that of the Irish peasants. The ordinary pay of a rural labourer is only from $os. to jos. a year, which, indeed, compared with the price of necessaries, may be worth from 4/. \os. to 6/. in Britain; but with this small sum he must provide his whole food, clothing, and habitation.' In Menu, 2 'a king, even though a child, must not be treated lightly, from an idea that he is a mere mortal ; no, he is a powerful divinity, who appears in a human shape.' ' That fool, who having eaten of the fraddha gives the residue of it to a man of the servile class, falls headlong down to the hell, named Calasutia.' 3 The lower the class, the more the interest they must pay. 4 One result was that justice became -venal; and the rich man visits the judge and bribes him. 5 Debtors were compelled to pay by being beaten by their creditors ; nor was there any idea of 'the equitable arrangement of an equal dividend.' 6 Wilson 7 thinks India formerly more populous than now. Mill 8 quotes Orme that ' In Indostan the common people of all sorts are a diminutive race in comparison with those of higher castes and better fortunes.' Mill adds, 'There cannot be a more con- vincing proof that a state of extreme oppression, even of stunted subsistence, has at all times been the wretched lot of the labouring classes in Hindustan.' Both Medes and Persians were divided into castes. 9 At present, says Elphinstone, 10 ' bankers and merchants lend money on an immense premium, and with very high compound interest.' For the immense wealth of a Hindoo 1 Edinburgh Cabinet Library, vol. ii. pp. 426, 427. - Menu, vii. 8. Jones's Works, vol. iii. p. 242. - Menu, chap. iii. 249. Jones's Works, vol. iii. p. 153. < Halhed's Gentoo Law, p. 2. 5 See extract from Orme, in Mill's India, vol. i. p. 216. Mill's India, vol. i. p. 240. 7 Note on Mill's India, vol. i. p. 320. 8 Mill's India, vol. i. p. 477- Ibid. pp. 183, 202. 10 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 174. VOL. I. C C 386 FRAGMENTS family in 1824, see Elphinstone, p. 188; and for the almost incredible splendour of Akber, pp. 481, 482 ; and for that of Jehan, pp. 530, 531. Plato l notices the love of wealth among the Phoenicians and Egyptians. Wilson says, 2 'a creditor is authorised by the old Hindoo law to enforce payment of an acknowledged debt by blows, the detention of the debtor's person, and compelling him to work in his service.' On the inexhaustible fertility of the black soil of Southern India, see Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. viii. p. 254. Sea. ' Neither Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, or Indians, addressed themselves to a seafaring life.' 3 The Institutes of Menu 4 class 'a navigator of the ocean' among other criminals ' who are to be avoided with great care.' ' Nearchus, who commanded Alexander's fleet, B.C. 326, did not meet a single ship in coasting from the Indus to the Euphrates,' and we find from Arrian that, as far as his knowledge went, there were no Indians employed in this sea ; while from Agatharcides, who wrote ' in the second century before Christ,' it appears that the trade between India and Yemen in Arabia 'was entirely in the hands of the Arabs.' 5 Herodotus 6 tells a curious story illustrating the horror the Asiatic natives felt for the sea. Even the Siamese, who have so long a line of coast, are bad and timid navigators. 7 Wilson 8 has idly attempted to prove that the early Hindoos were bold navigators. Human. Renouard 9 says of the Hindoos, ' Leurs connais- sances medicales se trouvent rassemblees dans un livre qu'ils nom- ment Vagadasasti ; ' and of this he gives a short notice, 10 and says they had ' des idees si ridicules sur la generation et le diagnostic des maladies.' 11 The Edinburgh Cabinet Library 12 says, 'The Hindoo drama was a branch of literature very imperfectly known 1 Plato's Works, vol. ii. p. 120. 2 Wilson's Theatre of the Hindus, vol. i. part ii. p. 51. 3 Grote's Hist, of Greece, vol. iii. p. 360. 4 Chap. iii. 158, 166. Jones's Works, vol. iii. pp. 141, 142. 5 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, pp. 166, 167, who quotes Vincent's Commerce and Navigation of the Ancients. 6 Herodotus, Book IV. cap. xliii. p. 251. 7 Journal of Royal Asiatic Society, vol. iv. pp. 105, 106. 8 Ibid. vol. v. pp. 137, 139. 9 Renouard, Histoire de la Me"decine, tome i. p. 44. 10 Ibid. pp. 44-46. 11 See also Sir W. Jones's Works, vol. i. p. 161. 12 Edinburgh Cabinet Library, vol. ii. p. 308. ASIA 387 till the important specimens and analysis furnished by Professor Wilson showed it to be one of great importance Its productions, indeed, are very limited as to number when compared to those of European composers ; and it seems doubtful if all the plays extant, even including those mentioned in literary history, much exceed sixty.' 1 Sir W. Jones 2 says, ' As to mere human works on history and geography, though they are said to be extant in Cashmere, it has not yet been in my power to procure them.' 3 The Institutes of Menu 4 speak with the greatest dislike and con- tempt of 'physicians.' 5 Sir W. Jones 6 places the oldest Veda at B.C. 1580, and the Institutes of Menu B.C. 1280; while Elphin- stone 7 assigns the Vedas to the fourteenth century B.C., and Menu about B.C. 900; but this, he allows, is calculated very loosely. Mill 8 says, ' Hardly any nation is more distinguished for san- guinary laws ;' and he gives a striking list of their horrible punishments. The Hindoos preached penances compared to which the mortification of the most rigid monks were refined luxuries. 9 Mill 10 finely says, ' The Hindoo lawgivers, who com- monly mistake minuteness for precision.' Wilson, though he says there are Hindoo histories, 11 confesses they are few and poor ; for 'The bias of the Hindoo mind was from the first directed to matters of speculation ; and it has never attached such value or interest to the concerns of ephemeral mortality as to deem them worthy of record.' Elphinstone 12 says, 'The Hindus attained a high pitch of civilization without any work that at all approaches the character of a history.' At p. 93, ' The great Hindu heroic poem, the Maha Bharat of which Crishna is in fact the hero. . . . Crishna is the greatest favourite with the Hindus of all their divi- I See the strange assertion of Sir W. Jones, Works, vol. vi. p. 206. * Sir W. Jones's Third Discourse on the Hindoos, vol. i. p. 33. 3 Ibid. p. 147. 4 Institutes of Menu, chap. iii. 152, 180 ; chap. iv. 212. Sir \V. Jones's Works, vol. iii. pp. 140, 144, 190. 5 See also Elphinstone's Hist, of India, pp. 142, 144, 145, and Preface to Wilson's Vishnu Purana, p. xxxviii. 6 Sir W. Jones's Works, vol. iii. p. 56 ; vol. i. p. 348. 7 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, pp. 225, 228. 8 Mill's Hist, of Brit. India, vol. i. pp. 254, 255. 9 See striking evidence in Mill's India, vol. i. pp. 410-412. 10 Mill's India, vol. i. p. 444. II Wilson, note in Mill's India, vol. ii. p. 67. 11 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, pp. 10, 381. C C 2 388 FRAGMENTS nities.' Elphinstone 1 says that both in painting and sculpture ' there is a total ignorance of anatomy.' On the Ramayana and Maha Bharat, see pp. 206, 207, where Elphinstone says that the first poem, ' when stripped of its fabulous and romantic decora- tions, merely relates that Rama possessed a powerful kingdom in Hindostan ; and that he invaded the Deckan, and penetrated to the island of Ceylon, which he conquered.' Elphinstone makes no doubt of the real existence of Rama, and of this expedition ; nor of the historical value of Maha Bharat. Wilson 2 says, 'The safest sources for the ancient legends of the Hindus, after the Vedas, are no doubt the two great poems, the Ramayana and Mahabharata. The first offers only a few, but they are of a primitive character. The Mahabharata is more fertile in fictions, but it is more miscellaneous, and much that it contains is of equivocal authenticity and uncertain date. Still it affords many materials that are genuine, and it is evidently the great fountain from which most, if not all the Puranas have drawn.' The Ma- habharata is mentioned in Vishnu Purana, 3 and therefore, of course, was written before it. Wilson 4 thinks ' the war of the Mahabharata happened about fourteen centuries B.C.' And at P- 385, Wilson says the Ramayana, or ' heroic poem of Valmiki, seems to be founded in historical fact ; and the traditions of the south of India uniformly ascribe its civilization, the subjection or dispersion of its forest tribes of barbarians, and the settlement of civilized Hindoos to the conquest of Lanka by Rama,' Wilson 5 says of the Vishnu Purana, ' The fourth book contains all that the Hindoos have of their ancient history.' This fourth book I must read again. It is at p. 347 et seq. Wilson 6 thinks the date of this Purana's composition to be A.D. 1045. The most important part of the Bhagavata is the tenth book ' appropriated entirely to the history of Krishna,' and translated in Maurier's Ancient His- tory of Hindustan. 7 Colebrooke thinks it is only six hundred years old : 8 and with this Wilson agrees, and says, 9 ' The twelfth century is probably the date of the Bhagavata Purana ; ' and this he repeats at p. 481. 1 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 158. 2 Wilson, Vishnu Purana, p. Iviii. 3 Ibid. pp. 275, 614, 485. 4 Ibid. p. Ixv. 5 Preface to Vishnu, Purana, p. Ixiv. 6 Ibid. pp. Ixxi, Ixxii. ? ibid. p. xxvii. * Ibid. p. xxviii. 9 Ibid. p. xxxi. ASIA 389 According to the Hindoo medical writers there are ' three humours, namely, wind, bile, and phlegm.' 1 Herodotus 2 says of the Babylonians, whose civilization some people vaunt, ' They bring out their sick to the market-place, for they have no physi- cians: then those who pass by the sick person confer with him about the disease, to discover whether they have themselves been affected with the same disease as the sick person,' &c., and if so, advise him as to the treatment. Wilson 3 says the Mahometans never had any dramatic literature. Of the Hindoo plays he says, 4 ' The greater part of every play is written in Sanscrit. . . . They must, therefore, have been unintelligible to a considerable portion of their audiences, and never could have been so directly addressed to the bulk of the population as to have exercised much influence upon their passions or their tastes.' He says, 5 'The dramatic mythology contains curious evidence of the passion of rude people for large buildings.' It is said 6 that ' The first mention of the caves of Ellora is in the fourteenth century.' In Indra's heaven there are thirty-five million nymphs. 7 Wilson says 8 that in the west of India the history of Rama is still ' represented in the dra- matic form.' Ravana, who made war on Rama, had ten heads 9 ; and a king is mentioned with 60,000 sons. 10 Wilson u gives an analysis of 'the Veni Samhara, a drama founded on the Mahab- harat.' 12 On the rock-cut temples of India see an elaborate essay in Journal of Asiatic Society, voL viii. pp. 33, 34, 44, 51. Women. The jealousy felt respecting women is one of the causes of the backward state of medical knowledge. 13 Besides this, there could be no great social and historical generalisations when society was thus maimed and imperfect : hence ferocity, &c. Another fact is, that there could be no good education ; most able men have had able mothers. The history of the influence of women I shall hereafter trace. The Edinburgh Cabinet Library (vol. ii. p. 343) says of the present Hindoo women, ' Every avenue by which an idea could possibly enter their minds is diligently 1 Rig Veda Sanhita, p. 95. * Herodotus, Book I. cap. cxcvii. p. 86. 3 Wilson's Theatre of the Hindus, vol. i. p. iv. * Ibid. pp. v, vi. 5 Ibid. pp. vi, vii. fl Elphinstone, History of India, p. 343. 7 Wilson's Theatre of the Hindus, vol. ii. part i. p. 12. 8 Ibid. vol. i. part i. p. 16. 9 Ibid. vol. ii. part iii. p. 4. 10 Ibid. vol. ii. part iii. p. 10. n Ibid. vol. iii. part iii. p. 17. a Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. v. p. 291. 15 Renouard, Hist de la M&lecine, tome i. p. 428. 3QO FRAGMENTS closed. It is unlawful for them to open a book: they must not join in the public service of the temples ; and any man, even their husbands, would consider himself disgraced by entering into conversation with them.' Women even of the highest orders have no concern with the Vedas. 1 In the advice respecting mar- riage, 2 sensual beauties are dwelt on, but there is no idea of com- panion or society? Brahmins are forbidden to eat with their wives, or even to see them eat. 4 Women are classed with ' talking birds.' 5 Eunuchs are mentioned several times in Menu, though possibly this meant impotent men. 6 Very jealous. ' Let not a man, therefore, sit in a sequestered place with his nearest female relations. The assemblage of corporeal organs is powerful enough to snatch wisdom from the wise.' 7 To talk with the wife of a man, or to send her flowers, or jest with her is adultery. 8 And if adultery actually occurs, the woman is to be devoured by dogs, the adulterer burnt alive. 9 Under some circumstances men buy their wives, i.e. pay a dowry to the father of the woman. But on this point there is some confusion, though the custom was evidently not unfrequent. Compare Menu (in Sir W. Jones's Works, vol. iii. pp. 123, 126, 304, 347) with the note in Elphinstone's History of India, p. 33, and Mill's History of India, vol. i. pp. 447, 456, 457. Women in law suits ' may be witnesses for women ; ' but the evidence of one man 'will have more weight than many women, because female understandings are apt to waver.' 10 A woman may marry, ' even though she have not attained the age of eight years ; ' ! ' and a man aged thirty may marry a girl of twelve ; or a man of twenty-four a damsel of eight Polygamy is distinctly allowed. 12 ' By a girl, or by a young woman, or by a woman 1 Menu, chap. ii. 66. Jones's Works, vol. iii. p. 92, and chap. ix. 18, p. 337. 2 Menu, chap. iii. sec. 10. Jones, vol. iii. p. 120. 3 Mill's Hist of Brit. India, vol. i. 517. 4 Menu, iv. 43, Jones, vol. iii. p. 167. 5 Menu, vii. 150. Jones, vol. iii. p. 261. 6 Jones's Works, vol. iii. pp. 189, 190, 363, 364, 422. 7 Menu, ii. 215. Jones's Works, vol. iii. p. 113. 8 Menu, vjii. 356, 357. Jones, vol. iii. p. 325. 9 Menu, viii. 371, 372. Jones, vol. iii. p. 327. 10 Menu, chap. viii. 68, 70, 77. Jones, vol. iii. pp. 284, 285, 286. See also Mill's Hist, of India, vol. i. p. 273. 11 Menu, ix. 88 ; see also 94. Sir W. Jones, vol. iii. pp. 347, 348. 12 Menu, viii. 28, 204 ; ix. 77, 81. Jones, vol. iii. pp. 279, 304, 345, 346. Also Wilson's note in Mill's India, vol. i. p. 455. ASIA 391 advanced in years, nothing must be done, even in her own dwelling- place, according to her mere pleasure.' l 'A woman must never seek independence ; ' 2 and 'a woman is never fit for independence.' 3 Of present women Elphinstone says, 4 'Women are everywhere almost entirely uneducated.' Perhaps from physical laws genius is hereditary on the female side. At all events I shall hereafter, from a vast collection of evidence, prove that the popular opinion is correct, that able men have able mothers. Women ought to educate their children, and, in fact, nearly always do so after a fashion ; for education is not books. The decline of public schools and of early education by men I shall prove to be one cause of our diminished ferocity of manners. Mill says, ' Of all crimes, indeed, adultery appears in the eyes of Hindoo lawgivers to be the greatest.' Among barbarians a woman labours hard ; hence she is valuable property, and her father will not let her marry unless bribed to do so. But in India women were also looked on as toys. Mill 5 quotes Menu 6 that ' neither by sale nor donation can a wife be released from her husband.' 'This,' says Mill, 'is a remarkable law ; for it indicates the power of the husband to sell his wife as a slave ; and by consequence proves that her con- dition while in his house was not regarded as very different from slavery.' Mill 7 says of the Greeks, ' In the time of Homer, though the wife was actually purchased from the father, still her father gave with her a dower.' 8 Mill 9 refutes the notion that the Hindoos borrowed their seclusion of women from the Mahom- medans. Even by the Mahommedan law, ' In all criminal cases the testimony of the woman is excluded ; and in questions of property the testimony of two women is held only equal to that of one man.' 10 Satfis, or burning women for their husbands, is not in Menu, but is said by Diodorus Siculus n to be as old as B.C. 300 ; and he ascribes it 'to the degraded condition to which a woman who 1 Menu, v. 147. Vol. iii. p. 219. 1 Menu, v. 147. Vol. iii. p. 219. and sec. 148, p. 120. 3 Ibid. chap. ix. sec. in. p. 335. 4 Elphinstones Hist of India, p. 187. * Mill's Hist, of Brit India, vol. i. p. 448. 6 Menu, ix. 46. Works of Sir W.Jones, vol. iii. p. 341. 7 Mill's Hist. of. Brit. India, vol. i. p. 454- 8 Iliad, Lib. IX. verses 147, 148. 9 Mill's British India, vol. i. pp. 45 8 - 459- lu Ibid - vo1 - " P- 5 X 3- Diodorus Siculus, Lib. XIX. cap. xi. 392 FRAGMENTS outlives her husband is condemned.' l Elphinstone 2 says, 'Murders are oftener from jealousy, or some such motive, than for gain.' Elphinstone 3 says that Megasthenes 4 affirms that the Indians 'bought their wives for a yoke of oxen.' Polygamy was com- mon. 6 Women who 'voluntarily burned themselves with their husbands ' have a very high place in heaven. 6 Women must not borrow money. 7 Nor may she be a witness, except for another woman. 8 A man may whip his wife. 9 'A man both day and night must keep his wife so much in subjection that she by no means be master of her own actions : if the wife have her own free will, notwithstanding she be sprung from a superior caste, she will yet behave amiss.' 10 'The creator formed woman for the purpose that man might copulate with her, and that children might be born from them.' u In Halhed's Gentoo Laws, 12 to talk to a woman, or send her presents, is punished as adultery. ' If a woman goes of her own accord to a man, and inveigles him to have criminal commerce with her, the magistrate shall cut off that woman's ears, lips, and nose, mount her upon an ass, and drown her, or cause her to be eaten by dogs.' 13 ' A woman shall never go out of the house without the consent of her husband, ... a woman also shall never go to a stranger's house, and shall not stand at the door, and must never look out of a window.' 14 Poly- gamy common. 15 Polygamy arose because beauty soon decayed. Diodorus Siculus 16 mentions the prevalence of polygamy in India, and also wives burning themselves when their husbands died. In the oldest of the Hindoo books, the Rig Veda Sanhita (p. 281) it is distinctly said that men are to buy their wives. Herodotus 17 says that among the Persians ' a son is not admitted to the presence of his father, but lives entirely with the women.' Climate does not affect the proportion of sexes. Polygamy caused by hot climate. Early marriage. Comte 18 says that among the 1 Elphinstone, Hist, of India, p. 189, and see, at p. 243, the reference to Strabo. 1 Ibid. p. 200. 5 Ibid. p. 243. 4 Strabo, cap. xv. p. 488, edit. 1587. 5 See Halhed's Code of Gentoo Laws, pp. 37, 98, 178. 8 Ibid. p. xlv. and p. 253. 7 Ibid. p. i. 8 Ibid. p. no. 9 Ibid. p. 208. 10 Ibid. p. 249. 11 Ibid. p. 250. 12 Ibid. pp. 237, 238. 13 Ibid. pp. 243, 244. 14 Ibid. p. 252. 15 Wilson's Vishnu Purana, pp. 150, 613. 16 Diodorus Siculus, Book XIX. cap. ii., translated by Booth, vol. ii. p. 346. 17 Herodotus, Book I. cap. xxxvi., in Bohn's Classical Library, p. 62. 18 Comte, Traite" de la Legislation, tome ii. p. 93. ASIA 393 Mongolians, girls are marriageable between nine and twelve. I think polygamy is only firmly established when heat increases desire and wealth is unequally distributed. Plato l contrasts the education of the Greeks brought up by nurses with that of the Persians brought up by eunuchs. Wilson 2 says, ' It seems pro- bable that the princes of India learnt the practice of the rigid seclusion of women in their harems from the Mahommedans.' For instances of polygamy see vol. iii. part i. p. 22 part iii. pp. 44, 46. Women burned on death of their husbands in B.C. zoo. 3 Wilson 4 says, 'To have touched the wife of another with the hem of the garment was a violation of her person.' Compare the present law of Nepal ; Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. i. p. 50. According to Mahommedan priests, the puberty of a girl is at nine years. See Vans Kennedy's Abstract of Mahom- medan Law in Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. ii. p. 101. The same high authority says (p. 98), ' Amongst the Mahommedans the liberty of dissolving marriages by divorce is left entirely to the inclination or caprice of the husband.' On their unwilling- ness to receive the evidence of women see p. 118. On state of women see Niebuhr, Description de 1'Arabie, pp. 44, 63, 65, 67. In the fourteenth century Ibn Batuta (Travels, p. 108) in India, c saw those women who burn themselves when their husbands die.' Herder 5 mentions that in hot countries early marriages cause wives to be treated as children. He says 6 that burning women in India was caused by the husband's being afraid that his wife, lusting after another man, would put him to death. In all barbarous countries, hot or cold, men despise women because they are weak, and, having neither knowledge nor love of society, their only standard of merit is strength, and physical, not moral, courage. Polygamy among the Arabs of Madagascar, see Journal of Geographical Society, vol. v. p. 241. Food. Elphinstone 7 says, 'The nature of the soil and climate make agriculture a simple art. A light plough which he daily carries on his shoulder to the field, is sufficient with the help of two small oxen, to enable the husbandman to make a shallow furrow in the surface in which to deposit the grain,' and 1 Plato, Works, voL iv. p. 343. 2 Wilson's Theatre of Hindus, vol. i. p. 36. s Ibid, part ii. p. 199. 4 Ibid. p. 39. 5 Herder, Geschichte der Menschheit, Band ii. Seite 148. 6 Ibid. Seiten 151, 152. 7 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 164. 394 FRAGMENTS ' the Hindoos understand rotation of crops, though their almost inexhaustible soil renders it often unnecessary.' l Rice not n(rw general. 2 Mrs. Somerville 3 says of the Himalaya, ' It is also a peculiarity in these mountains that the higher the range, the higher likewise is the limit of snow and vegetation. On the southern slope of the first range Mr. Gerard found cultivation 10,000 feet above the sea, though it was often necessary to reap the corn still green and unripe : while in Chinese Tartary good crops are raised 15,000 feet above the sea. Captain Gerard saw pasture and low bushes up to 17,009 feet ; and corn as high as even 18,544 feet.' But of Siberia she says, 4 ' North of the sixty- second parallel of latitude corn does not ripen, on account of the biting blast from the Icy Ocean.' ' China is the most produc- tive country on the face of the earth ; an alluvial plain of 21,000 square miles formed by one of the most extensive river systems in the whole world, occupies its eastern part.' 5 ' The valley of the Ganges is one of the richest on the globe, and contains a greater extent of vegetable mould, and of land under cultivation, than any other country on the continent, except perhaps the Chinese empire.' 6 She says 7 ' Rice contains a greater proportion of nutritive matter than any of the cerealia, but since it requires excessive moisture, and a temperature of 73 at least, its cultiva- tion is limited to countries between the equator and 45th parallel.' In Ireland rice preceded potatoes. Religion. Elphinstone 8 says : ' There is indeed no country where religion is so constantly brought before the eye as in India. Every town has temples of all descriptions,' &c. The Edinburgh Cabinet Library (vol. ii. p. 239) says, ' Doorga is the chief among the female deities, and indeed the most potent and warlike member of the Hindoo pantheon.' She, at the head of 9,000,000 warriors, defeated a giant called Doorga, and took his name, her own being originally Parvati. Another great goddess is Kalee. 'She is black, with four arms, wearing two dead bodies as ear-rings, a necklace of skulls, and the hands of several slaughtered giants round her waist as a girdle' (vol. ii. p. 240). 1 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 165. 2 See Wilson's note in Mill's Hist, of India, vol. i. p. 478. 3 Mrs. Somerville's Physical Geography, vol. i. p. 97. * Ibid. vol. i. p. i2i. 5 Ibid. p. 126. 6 Ibid. p. 127. ' Ibid. vol. ii. p. 220. 8 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 86. ASIA 395 * The Swerga, or superior mansion, commonly translated heaven ' (p. 240). The temple of Elephanta is the ' wonder of Asia ' (p. [246). At the 'wondrous structures of Ellora, a lofty hill is completely cut out into a range of temples. . . . We may like- wise notice Mahabalipoor, known also by the name of the Seven Pagodas, situated about thirty-five miles south of Madras.' 1 ' Human sacrifices were anciently offered as the Vedas enjoined, but in the present age they are absolutely prohibited.' 2 Grandeur of nature imposed fear. Metempsychosis is mentioned in In- stitutes of Menu. 3 Sir W. Jones 4 says of the Chinese, ' Of painting, sculpture, or architecture, as arts of imagination, they seem ' [like other Asiatics] ' to have no idea.' Mill 5 says the more ignorant a country is, the greater the power of clergy, and he adds, ' The Brahmans among the Hindoos have acquired and maintained an authority more exalted, more commanding and extensive than the priests have been able to engross among any other portion of mankind.' ' Nowhere among mankind have the laws and ordinances been more exclusively referred to the divinity than by those who instituted the theocracy of Hin- doostan.' 6 ' Of the host of Hindoo divinities, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva are the most exalted.' 7 Elphinstone 8 says, ' The Greek gods were formed like men with greatly increased powers and faculties, and acted as men would do if so circumstanced ; but with a dignity and energy suited to their nearer approach to perfection. The Hindu gods, on the other hand, though en- dowed with human passions, have always something monstrous in their appearance, and wild and capricious in their conduct. They are of various colours, red, yellow and blue ; some have twelve heads, and most have four hands. They are often en- raged without a cause, and reconciled without a motive.' At p. 38 he quotes Colebrooke 9 to the effect that in the Vedas ' the worship of deified heroes is no part of the system.' A sort of Pantheism in Vishnu Purana (by Wilson), pp. 6, 255, 256. See 1 Edinburgh Cabinet Library, vol. ii. p. 249. 2 Sir W. Jones's Works, vol. i. p. 271. Mill's Hist, of India, vol. i. pp. 414, 4i5- 3 Jones's Works, vol. iii. pp. 81, HI, 133, 140, I4 6 - l8 4- 339- 3 8r > 443- 4 6z - 4 Ibid. vol. i. p. 102. & Mill's Hist, of India, vol. i. p. 184. 6 Ibid. pp. 179, 329. 7 Ibid. p. 347. 8 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, pp. 96, 97. 9 In Asiatic Researches, vol. viii. p. 494. 396 FRAGMENTS in Vishnu Purana, p. 527, a 'legend having reference to the caves or cavern temples in various parts of India.' Diodorus- Siculus l says of one of the mountains near the Hellespont, ' In- the middle is a cave, as if it were made on purpose to entertain the gods.' The Hindoos practised human sacrifices. 2 In the oldest Hindoo book 3 we find the metempsychosis into animals. At pp. 83, in, 112, gifts to the priests are ordered. Asiatics will not change religion. Only a few years since the Hindoos believed that Vishnu had again become incarnate ' in the person of a boy.' Human sacrifices which indicated a contempt of man are noticed by Colebrooke, Digest of Hindoo Law, vol. iii. p. 288. At vol. vi. p. 256 of Journal of Geographical Society, it is said in Guyana of a ' singular rock, that the Indians, as is generally the case with phenomena of nature, make it the seat of a demon, and pass it under fear and trembling.' See also voL x. p. 21, for accidents causing superstition. Coleman 5 says, ' The Hindoos subject themselves to more devotional austerities, penances, and mortifications, some of which are of temporary and some of a permanent character, than perhaps any people in the world.' 6 Coleman 7 mentions ' the extensive cavern temples of Ellora, Karli, Elephanta,' &c. On human sacrifices see Ward's View of the Hindoos, vol. ii. p. 47. On metempsychosis even into stones see Ward's View of the Hindoos, vol. ii. p. 160 ; vol. iii. p. 67. For some enormous inventions in chronology, &c, see Ward's View of the Hindoos, vol. i. pp. xcviii. 211, 265, 266 ; vol. ii. p. 179 ; vol. iii. pp. 3, 23 ; vol. iv. p. 106. Immense. The remains at Elephanta and Salsette are enor- mous : ' The pagodas of Ellora, about eighteen miles from Arun- gabad, are not of the size of those of Elephanta and Salsette, but they surprise by their number and by the idea of the labour which they cost. The Seven Pagodas, as they are called, at Mavalipuam near Sadras, on the Coromandel coast, is another work of the same description.' 8 Mill 9 says that Bryant's Ancient Mythology con- 1 Diodorus Siculus, Book XVII. cap. i. VoL ii. p. 164. By Booth. 2 See Rig Veda Sanhita, pp. xxiv, 59. 3 Ibid. p. 8. 4 Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. vii. p. 109. 5 Coleman's Mythology, p. 165. 6 Ibid. pp. 51, 68, 70. Also Ward's Hindoos, vol. i. pp. 21, 22, 24, 25 ; vol. ii. pp. 50, 127, 128 ; vol. iii. p. xli. 7 Coleman's Mythology, p. 155. 8 Mill's Hist, of India, vol. ii. pp. 4, 5. 9 Ibid. p. 13. ASIA 397 tains curious evidence of the fondness of rude people for large buildings. It is said l that ' the first mention of the caves of Ellora is in the fourteenth century.' In Indra's Heaven there are thirty- five million nymphs. 2 Wilson 3 says that in the west of India the history of Rama is still ' represented in the dramatic form.' Ravana who made war on Rama had ten heads, 4 and a king is mentioned with 60,000 sons. Wilson 5 gives an analysis of ' the Veni Samhara, a drama founded on the Mahabharat.' 6 On the rock temples of India, see an elaborate essay in Journal of the Asiatic Society, vol. viii. pp. 33, 34, 44, 5 1 - Stationary. In Halhed's Gentoo Laws (p. 190) it is said, 'If a man of inferior caste, proudly affecting an equality with a person of superior caste, should speak at the same time with him, the magistrate in that case shall fine him to the extent of his abilities.' Asiatics are notoriously averse to change. And this is shown by their retention of their old religion. It is said that the Indian vessels which sail from the Gulf of Cutch are now made in the same way as in the time of Alexander the Great 7 Astronomy and metaphysics. Before the European stage there was no scientific knowledge except that of astronomy the heavens. The Hindoos have an astronomical writer, B.C. 548. 8 Wilson 9 says, ' An astronomical fact known to the author of the Vedas, that the moon shone only through reflecting the light of the sua' In Mirchchakati, the acquirements of an accomplished Hindoo are thus summed up : ' He was well versed in the Rig and Sama Vedas, in mathematical sciences, in the elegant arts, and the manage- ment of elephants.' 10 In Wilson (Theatre of the Hindus, voL i. part ii. p. 73), the Maya or philosophy of illusion is noticed. On the astronomical knowledge of the Hindoos, see Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. v. p. 6. 1 Elphinstone's Hist, of India, p. 343. 2 Wilson's Theatre of the Hindus, vol. ii. part i. p. 12. 5 Ibid vol. i. part i. p. 16. 4 Ibid. voL ii. part iii. p. 4. 5 Ibid. voL ii. part i. p. 20. 6 Ibid. vol. iii. part iii. p. 17 et seq. And see Journal of Asiatic Society, voL v. p. 291. ~ Journal of Asiatic Society, vol. i. p. 12. And compare Journal of Geo- graphical Society, vol. v. p. 273. 8 Vishnu Purana, p. 206. 9 Wilson, note to Rig Veda Sanhita, p. 217. 10 Wilson, Theatre of the Hindus, vol. i. part ii. p. 12. 398 FRAGMENTS AMERICA-EXCLUSIVE OF UNITED STATES. In Central America the volcanoes are frightful, and one of them is said to have been heard 'eight hundred miles distant.' 1 Stephens 2 mentions the extraordinary number of volcanoes on the Pacific along the southern coast of Guatemala and Nicaragua. At Palenque ' the design and anatomical proportions of the figures are faulty ; but there is a force of expression about them which shows the skill and conceptive power of the artist.' 3 See also the hideous colossal figures in plate at p. 315 of Stephens's Central America, vol. ii., and gigantic statue, p 349. Stephens 4 says, ' The inference is, that the Aztecs, or Mexicans, at the time of the conquest, had the same written language with the people of Copan and Palenque.' For an account of Mayapan ruins, about twenty miles south of Menda in Yucatan, see Stephens's Central America, vol. iii. pp. 131-138. For an account of Ticul, close to Uxmal, see vol. iii. pp. 273, 277. Account of Nophat, see vol. iii. pp. 362, 368. And the ugly figure at p. 364. Account of Kabah, vol. iii. pp. 384, 413. At Kabah, two figures ; ' both have un- natural and grotesque faces.' VoL iii. p. 412. For account of Labphak, see vol. iv. pp. 159, 165. And of Chichen, vol. iv. pp. 284, 318. For comparison of Greek and Hindoo religion Prescott 5 praises Mountstuart Elphinstone's ' truly philosophic ' History of India. M'Culloch's Researches concerning the Aboriginal History of America, Baltimore, 1829, l very learned?*' Bradford's Ame- rican Antiquities, ' valuable.' 7 Ixtilochitl, Histoire des Cheche- megues in French, by Ternaux. 8 Squier 9 says that the aboriginal Nicaraguans were of the same stock as Mexicans, but this must be conjecture. Geography. ' All along the Atlantic the country is bordered by a broad tract called the Tierra Caliente, or hot region, which has the usual high temperature of equinoctial lands.' 10 Peru is intersected by a gigantic range of mountains. Prescott n 1 See Stephens's Central America, vol. ii. p. 37. 2 Ibid. vol. i. p. 339. 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 314. 4 Ibid. p. 455. 5 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. p. 47. 6 Ibid. vol. i. p. 50 ; vol. iii. p. 320. 7 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 302. 8 Ibid. vol. i. pp. 175, 176. Central America, vol. i. p. 294. 10 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 2, 3. u Prescott's Peru, vol. i. pp. 4, 5. AMERICA EXCLUSIVE OF THE UNITED STATES 399 says, 'The empire of Peru, at the period of the Spanish inva- sion, stretched along the Pacific from about the second degree north to 37 S: lat ; a line, also, which describes the western boundaries of the modern republics of Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Chili. ... A slip of land rarely exceeding twenty leagues in width, runs along the whole coast, and is hemmed in through its whole extent by a colossal range of mountains which, advancing from the Straits of Magellan, reaches its highest elevation (25,250 feet), indeed, the highest on the American continent about 17 south; and, after crossing the line, gradually subsides into hills of inconsiderable magnitude as it enters the Isthmus of Panama. This is the famous Cordillera of the Andes.' Prescott l says, ' The Cordillera of the Andes, the colossal range that, after traversing South America and the Isthmus of Darian, spreads out as it enters Mexico, into that vast sheet of table-land which main- tains an elevation of more than six thousand feet for the distance of nearly two hundred leagues, until its gradual decline in the higher latitudes of the north. . . . Across this mountain rampart a chain of volcanic hills stretches in a westerly direction of still more stupendous dimensions, forming, indeed, some of the highest land in the globe.' Such is the scale upon which Nature does her work. In Journal of Asiatic Society (vol. ii. p. 29), it is said, I think inaccurately, that the highest peak of Himalaya is ' nearly five thousand feet higher than Chimborazo.' Meyen 2 saw from personal observation, that Peru is very ' dry, and extremely ste- rile ; ' but he was only from 16 to 19 south. On the earthquakes of Peru see Lyell's Principles of Geology, pp. 347, 453, 458, 501, 502. On the volcanoes of Central America see Squier's Central America, vol. ii. p. 101, et seq. On Geographical boundaries of Mexico proper, compare with Prescott, Humboldt, Nouvelle Espagne, vol. i. pp. 6, 7, n. Human sacrifices of Peruvians, see Robertson's Works, p. 923. Walsh 3 says, 'Mandioca meal is the great farinaceous food used in all parts of Brazil.' The mandioc is grown in Paraguay. 4 Maize is common in South Brazil, Uru- guay, La Plata, and Paraguay. 5 On the different foods grown in 1 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 5. 6. 3 See also a good description in M'Culloch's Geographical Dictionary, vol. ii. p. 313, and Ward's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 7, 8. " Walsh's Notices of Brazil, vol. ii. p. 13- See also vol. i. p. 512. 4 Azara, Amerique meYidionale, tome i. p. 145. 5 Ibid. p. 146. 4OO FRAGMENTS Brazil, see Henderson's History of Brazil, pp. 71, 100, 222, 235, 246, 265, 284, 293, 301, 314, 3!9> 3 2 5 37 8 , 405, 422, 440, 446, 489, 522. On food in western part of South America see Ulloa's South America, vol. i. pp. 36, 69 ; vol. ii. p. 324. Great popu- lation of Peru, see Prescott's Peru, voL ii. p. 101, and Bullock's Mexico, p. 420. Ixtilochitl, Histoire des Chechemegues, vol. i. pp. 289, 290. Immense. Prescott l says that ' the Peruvians, though lining a long extent of seacoast, had no foreign commerce.' The Mexican temples ' were solid masses of earth, cased with brick or stone, and in their form somewhat resembled the pyramidal struc- tures of ancient Egypt. The bases of many of them were more than a hundred feet square, and they towered to a still greater height.' 2 The most celebrated was ' the temple of Cholula, a pyramidal mound built, or rather cased, with unburnt brick, rising to the height of nearly one hundred and eighty feet.' 3 In the Vatican are Mexican paintings 'the cycles of which take up nearly 18,000 years.' 4 'In casting the eye over a Mexican manuscript or map, as it is called, one is struck with the grotesque caricatures it exhibits of the human figure.' 5 Torquemada says, ' It was not till after they had been converted to Christianity that they could model the true figure of a man.' 6 Human sacrifices formed part of the religion of Peru and Mexico. 7 The priests were very numerous and had great influence. 8 They were cannibals 9 but not in Peru 10 . In both countries the laws were extremely severe, slight offences being capital. 11 M'Culloch 12 says of Mexico, ' The base of the pyramid of Cholula is a square of 1,423 feet on each side, and its height is estimated at 177 feet ; ' the same size is stated in Ward's Mexico (vol ii. p. 75). Human sacrifices. 13 On the remarkable fertility of the soil 1 Prescott's Peru, vol. i. pp. 136, 137. 2 Ibid. vol. i. p. 60, and vol. iii. p. 331. 3 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 311. 4 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. p. 51. 5 Ibid. p. 78. 6 Ibid. p. 119. 7 See Prescott's Peru, vol. i. pp. 31, 86, 100, 101 ; and Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 20, 30, 48, 53, 62, 68, 106, 163 ; vol. ii. pp. 8, 128 ; vol. iii. pp. 126, 177. 8 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 55, 102. Peru, vol. i. p. 96. 9 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 63, 131, 232 ; vol. iii. pp. 109, 126. 10 Prescott's Peru, vol. i. p. 100. " Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 29, 145. Peru, vol. i. pp. 26, 42. 1S M'Culloch's Geographical Dictionary, vol. ii. p. 319. i 5 Ward's Mexico, vol. ii. p. 48. AMERICA EXCLUSIVE OF THE UNITED STATES 40! at and near Quito, see Ulloa's Voyage to South America, voL i. p. 282. And on fertility of Truxillo, see vol. ii. p. 20 ; of Lima, p. 26 ; of Chili, pp. 241, 242, 270. On the dreadful earthquakes, see Ulloa, vol. i. pp. 279, 312, 319, 341 ; vol. ii. pp. 79, 138, 235. These human sacrifices are constantly mentioned by the native historian, Ixtilochitl, Histoire des Chechemegues, vol. L pp. 192, 214, 291, 295, 354; vol. ii. pp. 32, 45, 48, 120, 129. History. The Toltecs civilised Mexico, 1 but after four cen- turies ' left the country as silently and mysteriously as they had entered it, and spread over the region of Central America and the neighbouring isles ; and the traveller now speculates on the majestic ruins of Mitla and Palenque as possibly the work of this extraordinary people.' 2 The Mexicans came from the north, 1 and arrived on the borders of the valley of Mexico, or states of Anahuac, towards the beginning of the thirteenth century.' 3 Early in the sixteenth century the ' Aztec dominion reached across the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific; and under the bold and bloody Ahuitzotl, its arms had been carried from over the limits already noticed as defining its permanent territory into the furthest corners of Guatemala and Nicaragua.' 4 Prescott 5 says that ' the Acothuans, orTezcucans, as they are usually called,' were more civilised than the Aztecs. The Mexicans and the Peruvians had no knowledge of each other's existence. 6 On the inexhaustible fertility of Mexico about 20 N. lat, see the sta- tistical evidence in Humboldt's Nouvelle Espagne, vol. ii. pp. 384, 385. Humboldt" says the Toltecs introduced maize into Mexico. Diffusion of Wealth and Food. There were two cheap foods in Peru, and only one in Mexico, 8 hence Peruvians more populous and less free than Mexicans. Milk was used by no native Americans. 9 In Mexico the severity of taxation made men disaffected, and aided the Spanish conquest, and taxes were so cruelly levied that ' by a stern law every defaulter was liable to be 1 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. p. 9. * Ibid. p. 10. 3 Ibid. pp. ii. 12. 4 Ibid. p. 16. 5 Ibid. pp. 137, 173. 6 See Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. p. 104. Prescott's Peru, vol. i. pp. 10, 115, 134. Humboldt's Nouvelle Espagne, vol. ii. p. 402. 7 Humboldt's Nouvelle Espagne, vol. i. p. 78. 8 [Potato and banana in Peru ; banana only in Mexico. ED. Note.] 9 Prescott's Peru, vol i. p. 138. VOL. I. D D 4O2 FRAGMENTS taken and sold a slave.' 1 M'Culloch 2 says of Mexico, 'The soil is also in most parts extraordinarily fertile ; and wherever water can be procured for irrigation, the most abundant crops can be raised with very little labour.' Wheat, barley, &c., succeed badly in Mexico, and indeed will not grow there 'under the level of 2,500 feet above the sea.' 3 M'Culloch 4 says of Mexico, the capi- tal, ' There is, or at all events there used to be, an extreme disparity of wealth in this city. Many of the nobles and successful .specu- lators in mines were excessively rich, but the bulk of the popula- tion were at once indolent and indigent.' Ward 5 mentions 'the lowness of wages in Mexico.' He says 6 that in some states 'the daily wages of the labourer do not exceed two reals, and a cottage can be built for four dollars.' Ward 7 says that Humboldt is not far wrong in making the Mexican population double itself every nineteen years. OBSERVATIONS ON THE SPIRIT AND TENDENCY OF COMMERCE AND MERCHANTS. I BELIEVE that Adam Smith, and, so far as I know, all political economists, have overlooked one cause of the decrease of mercan- tile profits in England since the sixteenth century and that is, the increasing estimation in which merchants are held. The Venetian ambassador in the reign of Mary I. reports that ' there were many merchants in London with 5o,ooo/. or 6o,ooo/. each; that the inhabitants amounted to 180,000, and that it was not surpassed in wealth by any city in Europe.' 8 One of the most infallible marks of an improving country is a rise in wages and a fall in profits ; and yet this very fall in profits, which is an evidence of national prosperity, is protested against by merchants as an evidence of national ruin. 9 This shows that merchants are bad judges of national prosperity. On their natural want of ability for government, see Smith's 1 Prescott's Mexico, vol. i. p. 34. 2 M'Culloch's Geographical Dictionary, vol. ii. p. 314. Ward's Mexico, vol. i. pp. 12, 16, 36, 37 ; vol. ii. p. 228. 3 M'Culloch's Geogr. Diet. vol. ii. p. 315. 4 Ibid. p. 322. 5 Ward's Mexico, vol. i. p. 14. 6 Ibid. p. 249. 7 Ibid. pp. 20, 21. 8 Lingard, vol. iv. p. 387, Paris, 1840. He cites MSS. Barber 1208, p. 137. 9 See mith's Wealth of Nations, p. 38. OBSERVATIONS ON THE SPIRIT OF COMMERCE 403 Wealth of Nations. 1 In April 1554, Mary had ' deulx marchands de cette ville ' (i.e. of London) nailed by their ears to the pillory for some expressions they had used against her. 3 In 1563 our chief exports were cloth, wool, lead, and tin; 3 and in 1557, wool, cloth, tin, lead, copper, coals. 4 In estimating the importance of commerce, Smith has well observed 5 that the merchant puts less productive labour into motion than either the manufacturer or the farmer, supposing of course that all these employ an equal capital On the necessity of knowledge among merchants, see M'Culloch's Political Economy. 6 In 1576, Elizabeth granted to the merchant adventurers two of her great ships for an escort to Hamburg. Did she pay their expenses? See an obscure sentence in Murdin's State Papers, p. 300. In 1576 the queen 'adventured' 5oo/. in Martin Frobisher's attempt to discover 'the North West Indies.' 7 The civilizing effects of commerce are admitted by Alisoa 8 For the etymology of diaper, respecting which it is said Anderson has made a mistake, see Warton's History of English Poetry, 8vo, 1840, p. 177, note. Some of the vulgar opinions respecting wealth being among merchants the predominating object of pursuit are well refuted by Miss Martineau. 9 Merchants have been much and justly ridiculed for holding the childish doctrine that the wealth of a nation can be measured by what is called ' the balance of trade.' But this, as M'Culloch truly says, 10 was a great improvement on the preceding notion that gold and silver should not be exported. 11 At p. 32 M'Culloch has a remark on the mercantile system equally witty and true. However, it was a great step in the right direction, and was due to the East India Company. 12 The mercantile system seems to have been 1 P. 234 ; see also pp. 263-266, 316, 344. * Ambassades de Noailles, Leyde, 1762. tome iii. p. 174. 5 Haynes's State Papers, p. 409. See Report of Michele, the Venetian Ambassador, in Ellis's Original Letters, and series, vol. ii. p. 219. 5 Wealth of Nations, pp. 148, 149. 6 Edinburgh, 1843, 8vo, pp. 331, 333. 334- 7 Murdin's State Papers, pp. 303, 304. 8 See his Principles of Population, 8vo, 1840, vol. i. pp. 28, 29. 9 Society in America, Paris, 8vo. 1842, voL ii. pp. 98-100, part ii. chap. v. sect. 3. 10 Political Economy, Edinburgh, 1843, 8vo, pp. 29, 30. M'Culloch, p. 29. u P- 38. D D 2 404 FRAGMENTS first vigorously attacked in 1691 by Sir Dudley North, 1 and early in the eighteenth century several works appeared against it. 2 However, Locke knew that labour is the constituent principle of value. 3 In 1820 the principal London merchants presented to the House of Conmons a petition in favour of free trade. It is a short and able document, and may be seen in M'Culloch's Dic- tionary of Commerce. 4 M. Storch says, 5 'Ce n'est point une exage"ration de dire qu'il y a peu d'erreurs politiques qui aient enfante plus de maux que le systeme mercantile.' But this is expressed much too strongly. The mercantile system, absurd as it was, was yet a great improvement on the system which it super- seded. The eminent merchant Gresham, though employed by Edward and Mary in some very delicate negotiations, had not received from them even such trifling honours as princes can bestow. But one of the first acts of Elizabeth was to confer on him what was then considered the honour of knighthood, and send him to Brussels as her representative at the court of the Duchess of Parma. 6 Morellet has published a list of fifty-five joint-stock companies established with exclusive privileges between 1600 and 1769, and it is an instructive fact that every one of these companies failed. 7 Mr. M'Culloch truly adds, * Most of those since established have had a similar fate.' 8 As to the confusion in the customs' laws, see the striking picture drawn by M'Culloch, Dictionary of Commerce, p. 846. In 1531 the Exchange of Antwerp was built, and 'Die Stadt zahlte jetzt einmal hundertausend Bewohner.' 9 In the Egerton Papers 10 there is printed Francis Cherry's Narrative of his Voyage to Russia in 1598. In 1681, 20,000 ships were employed in commerce, of which 15,000 to 16,000 were Dutch, and 500 to 600 French. 11 1 M'Culloch, p. 40. 2 P. 43. 3 P. 67. 4 8vo, 1849, PP- 384. 385- 5 Economic politique, St. Petersbourg, 8vo, 1815, tome i. p. 122. 6 Burgoin's Life of Gresham, vol. i. p. 279. 7 M'Culloch's Dictionary of Commerce, 8vo, 1849, p. 386. 8 See, however, my note in Smith's Wealth of Nations, on Joint-stock Com- panies. 9 Schiller's Werke, Band viii. p. 44, Stuttgard, 1838. 10 Camden Society, pp. 292-301. 11 Twiss, Progress of Political Economy, 8vo, 1847, p. 74. OBbERVATIONS ON THE SPIRIT OF COMMERCE 405 Mr. Mill has well stated the moral and economical advantages of commerce. 1 He truly says, 2 'The only direct advantage of foreign commerce consists in the imports.' He finely says 3 that commerce has succeeded war as a means of contact between nations. The first commercial dictionary ever published in England did not appear till i75i. 4 Even Montesquieu, who has been justly accused of undervaluing commerce, confesses that it has softened the ferocity of manners. 5 On the influence of commerce in stimulating the inventive faculties, see some very good remarks in Rae's New Principles of Political Economy. 6 In 1599 banking in London was not a separate business, but most of the goldsmiths were bankers." Chevenix has some good remarks on the moral benefits of com- merce. He well notices ' the immense addition which universal probity, the basis of commercial confidence, must make to national morality.' 8 According to the recognised principles of law at the accession of Elizabeth, it was almost impossible to recover a debt from an unprincipled debtor ; for the man owing the money could defeat an action to recover the amount by waging his law that is, by swearing that he did not owe it. In order to put an end to this monstrous absurdity, a practice had been for some time growing up for the creditor to bring an action, not of debt, but of assumpsit, by which the wager of law was avoided, and the question decided on its own merits. But this mode of proceeding, which was founded on a legal fiction, had never been recognised by the courts, 9 and there were con- sequently considerable doubts as to the validity of such an action. These doubts, by increasing the hazard of trading trans- actions, tended not a little to check the growing spirit of com- mercial adventure. The judges of England, who, to their immortal credit, have always aided and not unfrequently anticipated the wisest efforts of the Legislature, were on this occasion not wanting to their duty ; and two years before the death of Elizabeth they i Principles of Political Economy, and edit. 1849, vol. ii. pp. 112-122. 3 Ibid. p. 118. 3 Ibid. pp. 121, 122. 4 See M'Culloch's Commercial Dictionary, 8vo, 1849, p. xxii. 5 Esprit des Lois, livre xxi. chap. i. p. 349- ' Boston, 1834, pp. 237, 238. 7 Ben Jonson's Works, 8vo, 1816, vol. ii. pp. 73- 74- 8 Essay on National Character, 1832, vol. i. p. 153- 8 Reeves's History of English Law, voL v. p. 178. 406 FRAGMENTS solemnly determined not only that, in the case of debts of simple contract, an action of assumpsit should lie, but that the party bringing the action should recover damages for the whole debt, as well as for the special loss. 1 This important decision, which was one of the last acts in the glorious reign of Elizabeth, at once gave to a great body of commercial transactions a security not inferior to that enjoyed by the possessors of real property. 2 A writer of very considerable learning in English law has noticed this in reference to his own immediate studies. He says, ' The reports of the reign contain more questions upon personal rights and contracts in one shape or other than perhaps those of all the preceding reigns put together.' 3 The old common law was very severe towards insolvent debtors (?), and this was a great discouragement to persons who otherwise might have engaged in commercial pursuits. At length the 13 Eliz. cap. 7, first distinguished between bankrupts and insolvents, and gave pro- tection to the former. 4 The same statute gave the Commissioners of Bankruptcy power to dispose of a bankrupt's lands and tenements. 5 In 1575, Fene"lon writes to the king respecting the English, * Leur principal revenu et celluy de 1'Estat et de la noblesse est fonde* ou bien depend du commerce.' 6 Indeed, in 1568 the French and English [qy. Spanish ?] ambassadors residing at the court of London had a long conversation on the possibility of compelling Elizabeth to become a Catholic by establishing a continental blockade against the English commerce. 7 In 1568, Fe'ne'lon writes 8 that the chief commerce of England is with Flanders and Spain. In 1569 he writes that commerce 'est le seul soubstien du pays.' 9 There was a sort of stock-jobbing in London in 1569 ; at least they made bets on the ' bourse,' re- 1 4 Rep. 93, quoted by Reeves, Engl. Law, vol. v. p. 179. 3 But it seems that independently of assumpsits an action on the case might be brought ; see Reeves, Hist, of English Law, vol. v. p. 185, 3 Reeves, Hist, of English Law, vol. v. p. 188. 4 Blackstone's Commentaries, vol. ii. pp. 473-475, and my notes on Blackstone, p. 130. 5 Blackstone, vol. ii. pp. 285, 286. 6 Correspondance diplomatique, Paris, 8vo, 1840, tome i. p. xxxi. See also p. 70. 7 See the Secret Dispatch, in Fdnelon, tome i. pp. 66-73. 8 Ibid, tome i. p. 72. 9 Ibid. p. 166. OBSERVATIONS ON THE SPIRIT OF COMMERCE 407 specting political events. See Pension, tome ii. p. 281. In 1569, in spite of the opposition of many of her advisers, Elizabeth ex- pressed a desire that the commerce with France should be perfectly free. 1 In November 1570, Fe"nelon writes ' 2 that the Muscovite ambassador, having left London in disgust, had caused all the English in Muscovy to be imprisoned, and that this put an end to the idea of establishing a commerce with Russia. The French ambassador was present at the opening of the Exchange in January 1571, and has given an account of it. 3 In 1571, Elizabeth asked the advice of the chief merchants of London (iv. 204). In Novem- ber 1571 the London merchants, in consequence of the heavy duties levied at Rouen, became disgusted with their commerce with France, and turned their eyes more towards that of Antwerp. 4 And in December, Fenelon writes 5 that Elizabeth was negotiating with Spain for reopening the trade with Antwerp ; and he suggests to the king of France 6 that the duties at Rouen should be re- duced, and the same privileges given to the English as those which they possessed at Antwerp. In June 1574 a private Englishman, named ' Grinvil,' fitted out ten good ships of war to discover a northern passage. 7 In July 1574, Elizabeth told the French ambassador in full council, that commerce and navigation ' estoient les deux choses qui principallement maintenoient son estat ; ' 8 and in August the ambassador writes to his own court 9 that commerce and navigation were our two chief props. In "Wright's Elizabeth 10 there is a letter from William Smith in 1572, from Joraslave (which I suppose is in Russia?), respecting the Russian trade. In 1567 the Muscovy Company was incorporated, and several of the nobility joined its speculations. See Lodge's Illustrations of British History, ii. 46 ; and see p. 148. See also COMMON PLACE BOOK, art. Insurances. In 1558, Bacon, in a speech to Parliament, says, ' Doth not the wise merchant, in every adventure of danger, give part to have the rest assured ? ' l Colbert says commerce was conducted with 20,000 ships, of which the Dutch had 15,000 to 16,000, the French 500 to 600. 12 I Fenelon, tome ii. p. 330. a Tome iii. p. 375. 5 Correspondance de Fdnelon, tome iii. pp. 450, 451. 4 Ibid, tome iv. pp. 290, 291. 5 Ibid. p. 313. 6 Ibid. p. 326. 7 Ibid - lome vi - P- I2 7- 8 Ibid. p. 273. 9 Ibid. p. 218. 10 Vol. i. pp. 416-422, II D'Ewes's Journal of Parliament, 1682, p. 14. 12 Blanqui, Histoire de 1'Economie politique, tome i. p. 370. 408 FRAGMENTS Tocqueville * says it is not commerce which causes a taste for material pleasures ; but it is the taste which pushes men into commerce. It was not until early in the eighteenth century that the great merchants thought it worth while to keep separate books, such as. cash-books, books for bills of exchange, &c. 2 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TENDENCY OF MILITARY INSTITUTIONS AND CHARACTER OF SOLDIERS. I BELIEVE the experience of every country in modern Europe proves that the army is not only less educated than any other profession holding an equal estimation in public opinion, but that soldiers generally are deficient in intellect. This effect was brought about by the same causes which converted war from an art to a science. The soldier is now essentially a machine. His will is constantly in abeyance. And, thus relieved from the ne- cessity of thinking while he is on the field, he soon learns to avoid thinking when he is off the field. Laing 3 observes that we respect military men less than formerly, because we find a great general may be a very weak man. Smith says 4 that in modern Europe not more than one hundredth of the inhabitants can be employed as 'soldiers with- out ruin to the country. Hence we see the importance of his remark 5 that gunpowder, by rendering the habits of subordina- tion and obedience more necessary in a soldier than individual strength, must have tended to do away with the militia, and to substitute standing armies. This, of course, would aid civilization by reducing the number of soldiers. I suppose that no one will doubt the nautical knowledge of Sir John Ross ; still less will any one accuse him of desiring to de- preciate his own profession. He is, therefore, a witness worth hearing, and I shall give his own words. He is speaking of sailors. " 'The men,' as they are called, are not much given to thinking, it is certain ; though seamen of the present day (and I am sorry to say if] think much more than they did in the days of 1 Democratic en Ame'rique, tome iv. p. 242. 2 See M 'Culloch's Dictionary of Commerce, 8vo, 1849, p. 164. 5 Tour in Sweden, pp. 401, 405. 4 Wealth of Nations, p. 291. 5 Ibid. pp. 296, 297. ON THE TENDENCY OF MILITARY INSTITUTIONS 409 my junior service, and most assuredly and certainly are all the worse for it.' l See also a similarly conceived passage in Preface, p. x. Tocqueville well says 2 that the tendency of war is to increase the power of rulers. The causes of the natural thought- lessness of military men have been well stated by Adam Smith. 3 I suppose Captain Marryat knows his own profession. He says, 4 ' There is no character so devoid of principles as the British soldier and sailor. In Dibdin's songs we certainly have another version, " True to his country and king," &c. ; but I am afraid they do not deserve it : soldiers and sailors are mercenaries ; they risk their lives for money, it is their trade to do so; and if they can get higher wages, they never consider the justice of the cause, or whom they fight for.' Military men commit suicide oftener than other classes, and much oftener than sailors, who are more cheerful. See my notes on Suicide. Sailors are more liable to disease than soldiers, but they do not so often sink under it. Journal of Statistical Society, vol. iv. pp. 2, 3, and vol. viii. p. 78. And at vol. ix. 350 it is shown that sailors live longer than soldiers. Mr. Rae truly says that war has been a great means of advancing mankind by disseminating arts and industry. 5 Of course the remark only holds of a barbarous state of society. Lord Brougham says, 6 ' Perhaps the greatest captains have always been among the greatest statesmen in every age and in all countries.' The imprudence in monarchies of giving great civil employments to military men is forcibly stated in Esprit des Lois. 7 On the tendency of civilization to diminish war, see O_ue"telet,SurrHomme. 8 It is said to be a well-ascertained fact that, during the reign of Napoleon, the continued wars diminished the average height of men in France. 9 William Schlegel says, 'War is much more 1 Narrative of a Second Voyage in Search of a North-west Passage, by Sir John Ross, Paris, 8vo, 1835, p. 458. - Democratic en Amerique, tome ii. p. 26. 3 See his Theory of Moral Sentiments, partv. chap. ii. vol. ii. pp. 37, 38, Lond. 1822, ismo. 4 A Diary in America, Lond. 8vo, 1839, vol. iii. p. 31. 5 New Principles of Political Economy, Boston, 8vo, 1834, pp. 48-50, 255, 256. 6 Political Philosophy, 2nd edit 8vo, 1849, vol. i. p. 33. 7 Livre v. chap. xix. CEuvres de Montesquieu, Paris, 1835, p. 225. 8 Paris, 8vo, 1835, tome ii. pp. 291-293. 9 Quetelet, Sur 1'Homme, tome ii. p. 15. 410 FRAGMENTS an epic than a dramatic object.' ' See also pp. 243, 244, where he is doubtful as to the propriety of representing battles on the stage, but seems to think that it may be done. The rudeness of the military character is admirably hit off in the character of Ironside in The Magnetick Lady. 2 See Hallam's Europe during the Middle Ages. 3 During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the Italian armies were com- posed of the whole population. 4 Early in the fourteenth century the proportion of cavalry was increased. 5 In 1339, Azzo Visconti dispensed with the personal service of his subjects, which in 1351 was changed into a money payment. 6 Sir John Hawkwood in the reign of Edward III. was ' the first distinguished commander who had appeared in Europe since the destruction of the Roman Empire.' 7 And in the fourteenth century ' historians for the first time discover that success does not entirely depend upon intrepidity and physical prowess.' 8 Even in the fifteenth century, in Italy, battles were very bloodless. 9 The bow, indeed, was used before the Crusades, but armour was almost impene- trable. 10 The cross-bow is said to have been used in the battle of Hastings, 11 but, even under Philip Augustus, was scarcely known in France. 12 Early in the fourteenth century cannons were invented, or rather mortars, and the application of gunpowder to war was understood. 13 The French made the greatest improve- ments. (It seems that the two most important phenomena are the invention of gunpowder and the disuse of heavy armour.) Farquhar and Steele went into the army from choice. The degree to which subordinate European soldiers reason, and the military evils which their reasoning causes, are very fairly stated by Chevenix. 14 He supposes, 15 and I think with reason, that under the same circumstances proud nations are likely to be most powerful at sea, vain nations at land. On the tendency of the mind in our present early stage of civilization to prefer military achievements to scientific discoveries, see some good remarks by 1 Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature, 1840, voL ii. p. 239. 2 Jonson's Works, vol. vi. See in particular, p. 56. 3 Hallam's Europe, gth edit. 8vo, 1846, vol. i. pp. 328-343. * Ibid. p. 328. 5 p. 329 . 6 p. 33I . 7 p. 334 . 8 p. 335. 9 P. 337- 10 P. 338. " P. 339- 12 P. 339- 15 P. 341- 14 Essay on National Character, 8vo, 1832, vol. ii. pp. 206, 207. 15 Ibid. p. 249. ON THE TENDENCY OF MILITARY INSTITUTIONS 4! I Dr. Paris. 1 Jackson states with regret the decline of military enthusiasm in England. 2 He says dancing is a cause of the success of the French in war. 3 In 1589, Forman writes, 'This yere I was preste a souldiar to serve in the Portingalle voyage, whereupon I was constrained to forsake my country and dwelling and all my frindes.' 4 Lord Brougham thinks that the foolish notion which still exists, that war is a very honourable occupa- tion, is the result of feudalism. See his ingenious remarks in his Political Philosophy ; 5 but I am rather inclined to assign it not to any special cause, but merely to the general ignorance of men which makes them unable to appreciate the highest order of excellence. Happily, in our times, this respect for military heroes is fast waning. Dr. Fergusson 6 says that English soldiers, ' however hideously mangled, are generally uncomplaining ; ' and he adds, ' According to my observations, the most querulous under wounds and sick- ness have been the Scotch Highlanders. The Irish may be more noisy, but then it is with less plaint.' The great causes of war are ist. The respect paid to warriors in an age when courage is considered the first virtue, and. A belief that, like the ordeal, war was a judgment of God. 3rd. In more modern times, a jealousy of each other's wealth. 4th. Re- ligious hatred. 5th. An ignorant contempt cf each other's strength. But now power is passing into the hands of the industrious classes who are pacific. HISTORY OF MILITARY INSTITUTIONS AND THE ARMY. ' . . . . their plumes of feathers and rich accoutrements, a vanity which few nations imitate the English soldiers in.' (Camden's Elizabeth, in Kennett, ii. 597.) In 1601, Camden mentions ' swords, bayonets, and pistols.' (Kennett, ii. 635.) 1 Life of Sir Humphry Davy, 8vo, 1831, vol. ii. pp. 152, 154. 2 Formation and Discipline of Armies, pp. 189-192. " See COMMON PLACE BOOK, art. 619. See respecting the bayonet, COMMON PLACE BOOK, art. 2320. 4 Autobiography of Dr. Simon Forman, from 1552 to 1602. edited by Mr. H alliwell, 410, 1849, p. 19. 5 8vo, 1849, vol. i. pp. 324, 325. 6 Notes and Recollections of a Professional Life, 1846, 8vo, p. 8. 412 FRAGMENTS On the ist of August 1559, Sir Nicolas Throckmorton writes, to Elizabeth from Paris that the French ' suspect much the pre- paration and readiness of your Majesty's ships to the sea, and also- the musters of men through your Majesty's realm.' l In May 1560, Mr. Peyto writes to Throckmorton, the ambassador at Paris, that ' the Quene mustereth all the realme throughout from seventeen to threescore years old,' c. ; ' every shire hath his muster master apart.' 2 When was corporal punishment, in the sense of flogging, first inflicted in the army ? In Forbes 3 is a list of ' orders to be ob- served by the English soldiers in Newhaven,' to which are affixed a variety of penalties ; but nothing is said of the ignominious punish- ment of flogging, nor is it mentioned in the list of punishments at pp. 181-183, nor i n the Duke of Medina's orders to the Spanish fleet in I588. 4 It would seem from a letter of Elizabeth in 1562 that the coats of the soldiers cost 4$. 5 In the rebellion of 1569 the Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland offered i6d. a day to whomsoever would join their standard. 6 This, no doubt, was above the average pay. The queen's levies at Barnard Castle received, common soldiers, %d. ; light horsemen and archers, 16^. a day. 7 It is said in Laing's Sweden 8 that Gustavus Adolphus invented the bayonet. In 1563 the Lords of the Council write to the Earl of Warwick that ' the choyse men ' among the infantry, ' being above the degree of common soldiers, may have i2d. a day, and the rest as others have.' 9 However, out of their pay they had, at least when in garrison, 'to make some small allowance out of the monthly wages of the soldiers towards the maintenance of surgeons, as in other garrisons hath been always used.' 10 Arms. In 1563 the Earl of Warwick writes to the Council from New Haven for ' 200 pickaxes, helved, and 1,000 black bills.' u In 1569 we find the Earl of Northumberland 'armed in a previe cote under a Spanishe jerkyn, being open so that the cote might be seen, and a steele cappe covered with green velvet.' 1; It 1 Forbes' State Papers, vol. i. p. 184, 2 Ibid. p. 443. 5 Vol. ii. pp. 87, 88. 4 See Harleian Miscellany, edit. Park, vol. i. p. 116. 5 See Forbes, vol. ii. p. 92. 6 Sharp's Memorials of 1569, pp. 69, 83. 7 See the list in Sharp, pp. 246-248. 8 P. 57. 9 Forbes, vol. ii. pp. 446, 447. 10 Ibid. p. 448. 1 Ibid. p. 451. !- Sharp's Rebellion of 1569, p. 15. HISTORY OF MILITARY INSTITUTIONS AND ARMY 413 appears l that for light horsemen the arms were ' playte coyte, jack, bows and arrows, and bylles,' and 2 ' horsemen armed in corsletts and coyts of playt.' 3 At p. 80, ' certain ordenance, which is a faw- con and two slyngs ; ' and see p. 90, ' a falcon of cast yron.' In 1685-6 all ' fire arms ' could be made at Dublin cheaper than in England ; and pikes could be made ' and furnished into the stores for 35. lod. each.' 4 I have met with several things which make me believe that in the sixteenth century the Italians were considered the greatest masters in the scientific part of war. In July 1563, Elizabeth writes to the Earl of Warwick that she approved of the ' inventions ' of ' Signer Melionni ' for the defence of a town, and had rewarded his ingenuity ; 5 and in 1560 'an Italian is the fortifier at Dunbar.' 6 In July 1563, Lord Montague complained that so many men had been taken from Sussex as soldiers, that if more ' shall be taken, the harvest of the cuntree must end itself.' 7 Chevenix says, 8 ' It is not a little remarkable that in the only two battles since the days of Joan d'Arc down to 1745 in which the French obtained an advantage over the English, they were commanded, at Almanza, by the Duke of Berwick, an Englishman, and at Fontenoy, by a Saxon.' In an able tract by Anthony Marten, printed in 1588, the object of which was to stir up the English against Spain, it is said, 'We must consider with our- selves that the bands and cornets of horsemen, and especially of lances, have ever been, and yet are, the most necessary and puissant strength in wars, both to defend ourselves and offend our enemies.' 9 Mr. Hallam says 10 that, under Henry VIII., 'except the yeomen of the guard, fifty in number, and the common servants of the king's household, there was not in time of peace an armed man receiving pay throughout England. Henry VII. first established a band of fifty archers to wait on him. Henry VII. had fifty horse-guards, each with an archer, demilance, and couteillier ;'.... but on account of expense ' this soon was given up.' In 1559 it was usual in England to draw a cannon with 1 Sharp's Rebellion of 1569, pp. 29, 30. * P. 37. 3 See also p. 94. 4 Clarendon Correspondence, edit. Singer, 1828, vol. i. pp. 241, 242. 5 Forbes, vol. ii. p. 464. Sharp's Rebellion of 1569, p. 79. 7 Forbes, State Papers, vol. ii. p. 464. 8 Essay on National Character, 8vo, 1832, vol. ii. p. 229. 9 Harleian Miscellany, edit. I 'ark, vol. i. p. 168. 10 Constitutional History, 8vo, 1842, vol. i. p. 46. 414 FRAGMENTS thirty horses ; and the Council complained of the Duke of Norfolk because he used sixty. 1 In 1560 an Italian was employed as ' fortifier ' at Dunbar. 2 In January 1569 the French ambassador at London writes that Rochester ' est le principal arsenal de ce royaulme.' 3 As to the value of armour at the beginning of the fifteenth century, see a curious document printed from the Leber MSS., by Mr. Williams. 4 In 1581 Churchyard boasts that he is 'one that hath used both pen and sword.' See his letter to Hatton in Wright's Elizabeth. 5 For a list of the Ordnance and Stores in the Tower in 1578, see The Egerton Papers. 6 In 1585 there were such abuses at the Ordnance Office as to excite the queen's anger against Sir William Pelham. 7 In 1586, Walsingham proposed a method of training, by which ' two pounds of powder will serve one man for four days' exercise of training.' 8 In the Loseley Manuscripts 9 are preserved the first printed Regulations for the English army. Their date is 1513, and they were unknown to Grose. Henry VIII. introduced into England from Germany ' the art of making body armour and offensive weapons ; ' and in the reign of Elizabeth there were in London thirty-five of these armour-makers, but in the reign of James I. there were only five. 10 In 1554 the naval uniform of England for officers and marines was white and green. 11 It is said by De la Clos that Vauban's ' systeme bastionne ' was known at the end of the fif- teenth century, and regularly executed in 1567 at Antwerp. 1 * Respecting the employment in England in 1548 of mercenary troops, and the terms on which they served, see Tytler's Edward VI. and Mary. 13 In 1679, Locke gives an account of the uniform of the French troops. 14 In 1687 bombs and the bombarding of towns were new, being a French invention. 15 The moderns have 1 Haynes's State Papers, p. 249. 2 Ibid. p. 314. 3 Correspondance de Fe'ne'lon, Paris, 1840, tome i. p. 158. 4 Note in Chronicque de la Traison de Richart Deux d'Engleterre, Londres, 8vo, 1846, p. 151. s Vol. ii. p. 143. 6 Pp- 68-74, Camden Soc. 7 See Leycester Correspondence, p. 37, Camden Soc. 8 Lodge's Illustrations of British History, 1838, vol. ii. p. 285. 9 By Kempe, pp. 107-117. 10 Loseley Manuscripts, pp. 136, 137. 11 Machyn's Diary, Camden Soc. vol. xlii. pp. 59, 398. 12 Grimm, Correspondance litte'raire, tome xiv. p. 502. 13 8vo, 1839, vol. i. p. 161. 14 King's Life of Locke, 8vo, 1830, vol. i. p. 152. 15 See Evelyn's Diary, vol. iii. pp. 226, 344. HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH ARMY 415 made more rapid military marches than the ancients. 1 It is curious that even in some nautical matters soldiers have been found quicker than sailors. 2 Alison 3 agrees with Napoleon that cavalry can break an equal number of infantry. In the middle of the reign of Elizabeth ' the fighting men ' in England were about i,i72,ooo. 4 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH ARMY. IN Haynes's State Papers 5 there is a memorandum by Cecil of the arrangements made for placing the troops on the 26th of November 1562 in eleven different counties, and in London. The total force is 1,312 horse and 10,000 foot, of which no horsemen and 2,500 footmen were for London. None of the more northern counties are mentioned. The footmen are divided into corslets, archers, bilmen, and harquebuzers. Hume quotes 6 Lives of the Admirals, vol. i. p. 432, to the effect that 'in the year 1575 all the militia in the kingdom were computed at 182,929. A distribution was made in 1595 of 140,000 men, besides those which Wales could supply.' 7 It appears, indeed, from Murdin, 8 that in 1588 the able-bodied men were only 111,513, of whom 80,875 were armed, and 44,727 were trained. But Hume thinks that ' these able-bodied men consisted of such only as were registered, otherwise the small number is not to be accounted for.' However, he quotes Journals of the House of Commons, 25th of April 1621, to the effect that Coke said that about the same time, he and Popham, the chief justice, found on a survey that there were not more than 900,000 people in England, which would give about 200,000 to bear arms. And yet, adds Hume, we are told by Harrison ' that, in the musters taken in 1574 and 1575, the men fit for service amounted to 1,172,674, yet was it believed that a full third was omitted.' The paper men- tioned by Hume is in Murdin, 9 but it is singular that he should not have noticed that the list, 10 which he refers to as giving for all England only 111,513 able-bodied men, in reality gives that 1 Alison's History of Europe, vol. viii. p. 604. 2 Ibid. vol. xiii. p. 42. Ibid. p. 139. 4 Journal of Statistical Society, vol. iv. p. 202. 5 Pp. 562, 563. 6 In Appendix to Elizabeth, No. III. 7 Strype, vol. iv. p. 221. 8 P. 608. 9 Pp. 594. 614. to P. 608. 416 FRAGMENTS number for twenty-eight counties. For the expense of the army in 1587 and 1588, see Murdin's State Papers. 1 On the ist of May 1572 there was a great festival at Greenwich, on which occasion the queen reviewed 3,000 troops. 2 See my notes at the beginning of Jackson's Formation and Discipline of Armies. The great success of the English in war had, during the four- teenth and fifteenth centuries, chiefly depended on the skill of their archers. But the invention of gunpowder, and its general use, had given rise to a new feature in war, and caused the disuse of archery. One of the latest attempts made to revive archery was in a warrant issued by Elizabeth in 1596, which directed the en- forcement of an Act of Parliament, which had been passed in 1542, for the maintenance of archery in 33rd Henry VIII. 3 For evidence of the decline of archery in the reign of Mary, see Lodge's Illustrations of British History. 4 In the last year of the reign of Mary the justices of peace for the county of Derby stated, ' that in this shire cannot be made, levied and furnished, able men above the number of 100 men, besides those who are of the inherit- ance or within the offices and rules of our very good Lord, the Earl of Shrewsbury.' 5 Sir John Smith in his Military Discourses, which were written in 1589, seems to wish to revive archery. 6 Smith says 7 that the muskets then used were first employed in Italy about sixty years before, that is about 1529. In the south- west of England bows and arrows did not finally disappear from the muster rolls until 1599. In the meantime the musket gained ground. 8 THE RISE OF AGRICULTURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON CIVILIZATION. THE great importance of agriculture in increasing the material wealth of a country consists in the simple fact, that a capital em- ployed in tilling the ground puts in motion a greater quantity of 1 Strype, vol. iv. p. 620 et seq. - Correspondance de Fe'nelon, tome iv. p. 445. 5 See the Warrant, and Mr. Collier's note, in Egerton Papers, pp. 217-220. Camden Society. 4 1838, vol. i. p. 287. 5 Lodge's Illustrations, vol. i. p. 364. 6 See Ellis, Original Letters of Literary Men, pp. 54-56, Camden Soc. , vol. xxiii. 7 P. 53. 8 Yonge's Diary, Camden Soc., 1848, p. xvii. THE RISE OF AGRICULTURE 417 productive labour than it could do if employed in any other branch of industry. 1 As civilization advances, the progress of manufactures greatly outstrips the progress of agriculture ; because agriculture has less capacity for the division of labour than manufactures. See Smith's Wealth of Nations, p. 3. See also p. 106, where he notices the bad effects of this on the intellect and knowledge of landed pro- prietors. In America, where the inhabitants are equally remark- able for the greatness of their wealth and the coarseness of their manners, agricultural prejudices are very strong. Miss Martineau says, 2 ' It is not five years since the President's message declared that " the wealth and strength of a country are its population ; and the best part of that population are the cultivators of the soil." ' Observe that sailors are more superstitious than soldiers, because more dependent on nature. The prejudices of great landlords against travelling in the reign of Charles II. are well expressed by the rich and ignorant Sir William' Belfond. 3 M'Culloch 4 says that, even economically speaking, agriculture is not more important than manufactures or commerce. 5 He notices the inferiority of the intellect of those who cultivate the soil. ' The spinners, weavers, and other mechanics of Glasgow, Manchester, and Birmingham, possess far more information than the agricultural labourers of any part of the empire ; ' 6 and 7 he mentions the dislike of agriculturists to improvements. This seems a sort of brute instinct, for there is no doubt that the im- mediate tendency of agricultural improvements is to lower rent. M'Culloch, indeed, says 8 'There is no such opposition between his interests and those of the rest of the community.' But this is put much too strongly, for it is certain that the immediate tendency of agricultural improvements is to diminish rent ; and it is im- possible for rent to reach its former height until an increase of population compels the cultivation of inferior soils. Indeed M'Culloch says as much. 9 Landlords are perhaps the only great ' Smith's Wealth of Nations, Book II. chap. v. p. 150, Edinb. 1839, 8vo. 2 Society in America, Paris, 8vo, 1842, vol. ii. p. 26 ; part ii. chap. ii. sect i. 3 See Shadwell's Squire of Alsatia ; Works, voL iv. pp. 44, 45, Lond. 1720, lamo. * Principles of Political Economy, Edinb. 1843, 8vo. pp. 165-171. s See also p. 173. u P. 180. 7 P. 463* 8 p - 459- 9 P- 4^. VOL. I. E E 41 8 FRAGMENTS body of men whose interest is diametrically opposed to the interest of the nation. Every agricultural improvement tends to diminish their rents. This was first laid down by Ricardo, and is admirably worked out by Mr. Mill. 1 This requires to be clearly stated. Mill says 2 ' If the assertion were that a landlord is injured by the improvement of his estate, it would certainly be indefensible ; but, what is asserted is, that he is injured by the improvement of the estates of other people, although his own is included.' If, indeed, agricultural improvement, capital and population, advance in an equal ratio, then the landlord will be benefited by the im- provement, but in that case, he alone will gain. 3 Thus too, emi- gration, which is so advantageous to a densely peopled country, entails a positive loss on the landlords. 4 From 1688 to the Re- form Bill, the landowners have been supreme in the English legislature, but have never brought forward a single measure to lessen the pressure of those burdens which weigh so heavily on their country. Mr. Mill 5 mildly calls this an ' irrational hostility to improvement ; ' but it is rather the systematic bigotry of a body of men who are unhappily as formidable for their power as they are contemptible for their ignorance. On the importance of towns even to agriculturists, see Mill's Political Economy. 6 Mill says, 7 ' In France, it is computed that two-thirds of the whole population are agricultural ; in England at most one-third.' Towns are the great centres of knowledge ; the ignorant flock to the country. There is on the whole no fairer criterion of civilization than the proportion between the rural and civic popu- lation, and between those engaged in agriculture and those engaged in other occupations. (Of course this would not apply to countries whose soil is ill adapted to agriculture.) In Ireland the rural in- habitants are nearly seven-eighths ; in England less than half of the population ; and while the families chiefly employed in agriculture are in Ireland five-eighths, they are in England only one quarter. 8 The second Pitt found it convenient to flatter the country gentle- men, but he had a real, and sometimes an undisguised, contempt 1 Principles of Political Economy, 2nd edition, 8vo, 1849, vol. ii. pp. 270-275. 2 P. 75. 3 Mill, p. 281. 4 Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 303, 304. 5 Ibid. p. 448. 6 Vol. i. pp. 147, 148. 7 Political Economy, 8vo, 1849, v l- ' P- I ^S- 8 See Thornton on Over Population, 8vo, 1846, p. 82. THE RISE OF AGRICULTURE 419 for them. This is illustrated by an amusing and original anecdote related by Captain Jesse. 1 Agriculture has made scarcely any progress. How can agri- culturists increase in civilization since they do not increase in knowledge ? Storch observes that in an advanced state of society, agricultural labour is less productive than other labour. 2 He well says, 3 ' Dans la production agricole, c'est la terre qui fait la plus grande partie de la besogne ; dans les manufactures et le commerce, c'est 1'homme.' And again, 4 ' L'industrie agricole admet le moins de division dans les travaux.' He adds 5 that, in spile of the pro- tection and patronage of government, agriculture is not much advanced beyond the state in which the ancients left it. This is partly the result of the ignorance of the country gentlemen. 6 Mr. Rae draws an accurate picture. of the operations of an ordinary agriculturist ; all of which resolve themselves into mere observation of the economical phenomena of nature. 7 He well says 8 that it is impossible a priori to construct or even to improve a plough. It is well known that the immediate tendency of agricultural improvements is to lower rent. This truth to an economist is almost self-evident ; but there has been found a gentleman a certain Rev. Richard Jones who has not only the unparalleled hardihood to attack this principle, but who considers a belief in it to proceed ' from imperfect observation and hasty reasoning.' See the amusing remarks in Jones's Essay on the Distribution of Wealth, 9 and compare his remarks 10 on Ricardo, one of the most acute and original thinkers that this age has produced. Oldys says that the works on Husbandry and Agriculture published in the reign of James I. ' are so numerous that it can scarcely be imagined by whom they were written or to whom they were sold.' ' ! Mr. Alison is, I think, mistaken in saying that capital laid out in agricul- ture is more productive than when laid out in commerce or manu- facture. 12 Even Jie observes I3 that agriculture has made little or no progress. In towns, women reach puberty sooner than they do in 1 Life of Beau Brummell, 8vo, 1844, voL i. pp. 72, 73. s Economic politique, St Petersbourg, 8vo, 1815, tome. iv. pp. 171-174. 5 Ibid. p. 172. 4 Ibid, tome i. p. 209. 5 Ibid. p. 211, and tome ii. p. 210. 6 Economic politique, St. Peiersbourg, 8vo, 1815, tome ii. p. 213. 1 New Principles of Political Economy, Boston, 8vo, 1834, pp. 85, 87. 8 P. 87. 9 8vo, 1831, pp. 303, 304. I0 P. vii 11 Harleian Miscellany, vol. i. p. xvii. 1J Principles of Population, 8%-o, 1840, voL i. pp. 148, 149. l * Pp. 193, 194. E E 2 420 FRAGMENTS the country ; and among the rich sooner than among the poor. 1 Archdeacon Hare gravely says, ' The strength of a nation, humanly speaking, consists not in its population, or wealth, or knowledge, or in any other such heartless and merely scientific elements, but in the number of its proprietors.' 2 On the slavish tendencies of the agricultural mind, and the progressive spirit of cities, see Cole- ridge on Church and State. 3 Comte 4 observes that as society advances, agriculturists must fall in the scale. Among the ancients agriculturists were the most superstitious. 5 Laing 6 says, ' The great difference produced by agricultural improvement seems to be in the cost of production, rather than in the quantities produced from the seed.' In France, two-thirds are engaged in the direct cultivation of the soil. 7 Tocqueville says 8 that rents have indeed risen, but the agriculturists, while gaining money, have thus lost interest and political power. In the plan of a ' Constitution ' put forward by Robespierre in the spring of 1793, 'La culture des champs e"tait le premier des travaux. Robespierre, ainsi que tous les legislateurs de 1'antiquite, considerait le travail appliqu a la terre comme le plus moral etle plus social des travaux de I'homme.' 9 Directly after the Restoration in 1660 there began 'a new system of legislation, by the landed interest, for their own immunity.' 10 Our laws, by encouraging the agglomeration of landed property into large estates, have greatly discouraged agriculture. Besides the severity of primogeniture and entail, even subinfeudation, so general in France, was checked by Magna Charta, and forbidden in i8th Edward I. by the statute called Quia Emptores. 11 Thus, too, escheats were frequent in England, because there was no power of willing away land. 12 There is a masterly sketch of the economic causes and tendencies of Chinese civilization in Rae's 1 See the additions of Dr. Cerise to Roussel, Systeme de la Femme, Paris, 1845, pp. 337-339. 2 Hare's Guesses at Truth, first series, p. iii. ; 3rd edition, 8vo, 1847. 3 Pp. 22-26. 4 Philosophic Positive, tome vi. p. 586. 5 See Mackay's Progress of the Intellect, 8vo, 1850, vol. ii. p. 43. 6 Sweden, 8vo, 1839, p. 294. 7 Laing's Notes of a Traveller, ist series, p. 48. 8 Democratic en Europe, tome v. pp. 40, 41. 9 Lamartine, Histoire des Girondins, tome v. p. 288. 10 Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vol. iii. p. 194. See also at p. 224, the impudent complaint of the Duke of Buckingham, as to a fall in rent. 31 See Hallam's Middle Ages, 9th edition, 8vo, 1846, vol. i. p. 124. 12 Ibid. p. 127. THE RISE OF AGRICULTURE 421 New Principles of Political Economy. 1 In 1813 Sir Humphrey Davy published his Elements of Agricultural Chemistry, which, says Dr. Paris, 2 ' may be considered as the only system of philo- sophical agriculture ever published in this country.' So slow has been the progress of agriculture, that, in 1723, Lord Molesworth, having proposed that a school for teaching husbandry should be established, could find no better text book than Tusser's work, which was published in 15 77.' Lands were not allowed to be devised by will until the 32nd Henry VIII. cap. i., which allowed all soccage lands, and two-thirds of lands of military tenure to be devised. These last at the restoration were turned into soccage tenure, which made all lands devisable except some copyhold. 4 The great policy of breaking up estates now went rapidly forward. By 32 Henry VIII. joint tenants were compellable, by writ of par- tition to divide their lands. Before this statute they had no such power. 5 It is stated by a very competent authority that, among the recruits for the army, labourers in the field display more strength, and mechanics more aptitude for learning the exercises, &c. 6 As the great landowners were soon able to enslave the rest of the proprietors, the possession of land became not merely the only mark of honour, but the only title to security. 7 Posterity will not believe the extent to which this foolish respect for landowners has carried us. Lord Brougham says, ' In a manor in Essex, at this day, the power of appointing justices, who have a criminal jurisdiction over a population of 5000 souls, belongs to whoever may purchase the property.' 8 Mr. Mill truly says that ' great landlords have seldom seriously studied anything ;' 9 and he notices their idleness. 10 Mr. Inglis's valuable travels in Ireland contain abundant evidence that the grasping selfishness and bigotry of the landlords is one great cause of the miseries of that ill-used and lovely country. See a remark- able instance at voL i. p. 26, 2nd edit 8vo, 1835 ; and compare 1 Boston, 8vo, 1834. pp. 149-155. * Life of Davy, 8vo, 1831. vol. i. p. 373. 3 See Mavor's Preliminary Dissertation to Tusser's Five Hundred Points, 8vo, 1812, p. 25. 4 Christian's Note on Blackstone's Comment, 8vo, 1809, vol. ii. p. 12. 5 Blackstone, vol. ii. pp. 185, 187, 188. 6 Jackson's View of the Formation, Discipline, and Economy of Armies, 8vo, 1845, pp. 15. 16, 188. 7 Brougham's Political Philosophy, 2nd edit. 8vo, 1849, vol. i. p. 308. 8 Ibid. p. 318. 9 Political Economy, vol. i. p. 283. 10 P. 307. 422 FRAGMENTS Thornton on Over Population. 1 See also 2 Mr. Thornton's just remarks on the shameless rapacity of the English landlords. The fall in the value of money injured the landowners in two different ways ; for while, on the one hand, they were prevented by the terms of their current lease from raising their rents to the full point which would restore them to their former position, so, on the other hand, the extent to which they did raise their rents exposed them to great obloquy, and seriously affected their popularity. There are innumerable attacks on landlords for raising their rents made by popular authors in the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- turies. 3 In Maroccus Extaticus, 4 'the covetous landlord is the caterpillar of the commonwealth.' 5 Even Bancroft, in the famous sermon he preached at St. Paul's Cross in 1588, notices the charges against the landlords." The decline in the value of the precious metals fell chiefly on the great landlords. By the common law of England (?) a lessee's estate less than freehold might be at any time defeated by a common recovery suffered by the tenant of the free- hold. But by 21 Henry VIIL, the termor (i.e. he who was en- titled to the term of years) was protected against these petition recoveries, and the consequence was that long terms of leases became frequent. 7 In muscular employments, such as agriculture, the .excess of male over female births is greater than it is in the more seden- tary ones, as commerce and manufactures. 8 So that I suppose the more agricultural a people the fewer its women. Alison says 9 that, in America, ' the proportion of the cultivators of the soil to the other classes of society is about twelve to one.' See also p. 549, where he says that 'in 1820, out of nearly ten millions of inhabitants there were only four hundred and twenty thousand employed in commerce and manufactures.' In the agri- 1 8vo, 1846, p. 97. 2 Pp. 292, 293. 5 See, for instance, Dekker's Knights Conjuring, 1607, p. 72, Percy Soc. vol. v. See also p. 112 of Rowland's More Knaves Yet? published about 1610, and re- printed in Percy Soc. vol. ix. 4 1595, Percy Soc. vol. ix. p. 15. 5 See also to the same effect, Rich's Honestie of this Age, 1614, pp. 62, 63, Soc. vol. xi. 6 See Collier's Ecclesiastical History, 8vo, 1840, vol. vii. p. 81. 7 See Blackstone's Commentaries, vol. ii. p. 142, and my notes on Blackstone, p. 27. See also the enabling Statute 32 Hen. VIIL, in Blackstone, vol. ii. p. 319. 8 Queielet, Sur 1'Homme, Paris, 1835, tome i. pp. 49, 50. 9 Principles of Population, 8vo, 1840, vol. i. p. 60. THE RISE OF AGRICULTURE 423 cultural, there is about the same criminality as in the non- agricultural counties. 1 In the discouragement given to agriculture 2 the loss to the material wealth of the country has been amply compensated by the gain, if I may so express myself, in moral wealth. The intellectual inferiority of farmers to traders is too manifest to be disputed. And we find that countries such, for instance, as China which have encouraged agriculture at the expense of trade, have gained wealth without reaching civilization. 3 The causes of this lie in the nature of their respective pursuits. Let any man compare a merchant with an agriculturist. The range of a great merchant is immense. His speculations cover the surface of the world. He has to consider the wants of a multi- tude of markets, the feelings and habits of a multitude of people. The casualties of war, the risks of sea, the character of dis- tant voyages are familiar to his mind; and, if he be a man of only ordinary apprehension, the constant consideration of such distant topics cannot fail to enlarge his mind. With the agri- culturist the case is quite different. His views are confined to one country, and often to one place in that country. What he gains in intensity he loses in grasp. His interests, his views, his very aspirations are small and cramped ; and, unless he be a man of considerable natural power, he dwindles away in point of in- tellect to a gaping rustic who cultivates his soil. Now look at history. In every struggle for freedom, in every struggle for onward progress, the merchants and the inhabitants of towns have thrown themselves into the breach, and often have led the forlorn hope. But the agriculturists, the inhabitants of the country, always have been and still are in the rear of their age. Their voices have always been lifted against improvement; and they have but too often succeeded in drowning by clamour what they never could hope to convince by reason. Thus, too, a nation of agriculturists is more liable to superstition than a nation of traders or manufacturers. The farmer is very dependent on nature. A single unfavourable season will baffle the most scien- tific calculations that he can make. Hence, we find that they resort to astrology, &c. But the manufacturer is not so much 1 See Porter's Progress of the Nation, voL iii. p. 197. * The causes of this are admirably stated by Smith, Wealth of Nations, book iii. 3 Ibid. pp. 282, 283. 424 FRAGMENTS operated on by the whims of nature. Whether it is wet or dry, whether it is cold or warm, little matters to the success of his operations. He learns to rely on himself. He puts his faith in his own skill and in his own right arm ; nor is he very anxious about the prognostication of the astrologer, or the prayer of the priest. Besides this, in manufactures the inventive powers are infinitely more used than in agriculture. A very obvious consider- ation will explain the cause of this. In agriculture the principal, I may say the sole expense, is that incurred by producing the raw material, the corn ; but in manufacture, the price of the raw material is generally much less than the value of the labour by which that raw material is worked up. Now, it is a well-known law, that the produce of land increases in a diminishing ratio to the quantity of labour employed. l But, to the productiveness of manufacturing labour a precisely opposite law is applicable. The consequence is that manufactures are much more susceptible of mechanical improvement than agriculture, 2 and therefore to them mechanical improvements are oftener applied. HISTORY OF AGRICULTURE. IN 1585, a proclamation was put forth against those who 'con- verted arable lands and the richest pasture grounds ' to sowing woad for the use of dyers. 3 On the 29th of November, 1569, Sir G. Bowes writes to the earl of Sussex that the rebels mean to post themselves about Stockton, where 'the best country of corn joineth to those parts of this river of Tees, of both sides.' 4 At p. 138, Sir C. Sharp has printed an estimate of the land and tenements of the rebels in the County Palatine of Durham. With the exception of the earl of Westmoreland's which is 574/., not one reaches yo/. Early in Elizabeth's reign (the exact date does not appear) Sir G. Bowes bought for 98o/. tenements worth 34.7. a year. 5 ' It has been supposed that, if the processes and implements of industry used in the best farmed counties were generally adopted 1 Mill, Political Economy, vol. i. p. 221. 2 Ibid. p. 224. 3 Camden's Elizabeth in Kennett, vol. ii. p. 510. 4 Sharp's Memorial of Rebellion of 1569, 8vo, 1840, p. 80. :> Ibid. p. 287. HISTORY OF THE PRICES OF CORN 425 throughout the kingdom, the annual produce of the soil would be doubled.' J M'Culloch says 2 that, in 1571, the principle was first introduced of putting a duty on the exportation of wheat. This, of course, depressed the agriculturists, as also did the statute of appren- ticeship. 3 In 5th Edward II., we find 105. allotted to the prioress and nuns of Chester, ' as a compensation for [four] acres of land in Godes- bach, which they had surrendered to the king's father.' 4 This is only 2s. 6d. an acre, but it does not appear what sort of land it was. In 2nd Henry VIII., Ralph Davenport of Davenport ' held the manor of Davenport from Thomas Venables of Kinderton, Esq., in soccage, by the render of i8 PP- 2 3 6 - 2 48, 249. 3 The Mission of the Comforter, 8vo, 1850, p. 458. * Ellis, Polynesian Researches, 8vo, 1831, vol. i. p. 342. * See Southey's Life of Wesley. 8vo, 1846, vol. i. pp. 4, 439, 442. On the ignorance of the clergy in the reign of Elizabeth, see ibid. pp. 371, 272, 493, 494, 496. 6 See Calamy's Life of Himself, vol. i. p. 354, 8vo, 1829. See also at vol. ii. pp. 217, 218, evidences of the fallen state of the clergy. 7 Diary, voL iii. p. 278. 8 Kemble's Saxons in England, vol. ii. p. 373. 9 Ibid. p. 511. 10 Democratic en Amerique, iv. 210, 211. II Histoire de la Reforme, tome i. p. 47. u Const. Hist vol. i. p. 206. 432 FRAGMENTS yet that he was not lordly' ' In 1579, one of the Puritans taunted the Bishop of London that 'he must be lorded, "an it please your lordship" at every word.' 2 Flassan 3 says that Charle- magne favoured the clergy from policy, not from superstition. Sorbiere, who was in England very soon after the Restoration, says that ' the inferior clergy are mean enough, and cannot without great difficulty preach.' 4 Bishop Sprat 5 has an amusing remark on the decline of episcopacy. Until the fourteenth century, ecclesiastics were forbidden to eat at the table of princes. 6 Gre- goire says 7 Charlemagne was never legally canonised. The clergy, with a few honourable exceptions, have in all modern countries been the avowed enemies of the diffusion of knowledge, the danger of which to their own profession they, by a certain instinct, seem always to have perceived. Strype notices the impoverishment of the clergy by the cessa- tion of pilgrimages ; but he makes no attempt to estimate its extent. 8 In the sixteenth century the clergy married servants. 9 In the middle of the eighteenth century it was usual for livings to be conferred upon condition that the clergyman should marry the cast-off mistress of the patron. 10 The Rev. Mr. White, who has been a clergyman in the two great Christian sects, Catholicism and Protestantism, and has, perhaps, seen more of their secret workings than any man of his day, notices ' the poisonous nature of that orthodoxy, which is sup- ported by church establishments. Doctrines being made the bond of union of a powerful body of men, whose only legal title to the enjoyment of wealth, honour, and influence is adherence to those doctrines, there must of necessity exist a bitter jealousy against every man who shakes the blind confidence of the multi- 1 Strype's Parker, voL ii. p. 376, and compare Sampson's reply in vol. iii. pp. 3I9-323- 3 Strype's Aylmer, p. 39. See also Strype's Annals, vol. ii. part i. pp. 407, 410 ; vol. ii. part ii. p. 217. See also An Epistle to the Terrible Priests, 1588, pp. 58, 59, 8vo, 1843. An Epitome of Dr. Bridge's Defence, 1588, p. 59, 8vo, 1843. 3 Diplomatic Francaise, tome i. p. 88. 4 Sorbiere's Voyage to England, pp. 18, 19. 5 Observations on Sorbiere's Voyage. 6 Gre"goire, Histoire des Confesseurs, p. 106. 7 Ibid. p. 159. 8 Strype's Whitgift, vol. i. p. 544. 9 See Loseley Manuscripts by Kempe, p. 254. 10 Menzel's German Literature, vol. i. p. 163. INFLUENCE OF THE CLERGY UPON CIVILIZATION 433 tude in the supposed sacredness of those doctrines.' l On the drunken habits, &c. of the clergy, see Baxter's. Life of Himself, London, folio, 1696, part i. p. 2 ; and part iii. p. 46. When, in 1 68 1, Stephen College was murdered at Oxford, some of the clergy brutally said they were pleased to have ' one college more in their university.' 2 In the fourteenth century, before sermon began, books were exposed and read at the doors of the churches. 3 Monteil adds 4 that in the fourteenth century the clergy were more loved in Paris than in Languedoc. For the fees received by the clergy see Monteil, ii. 300, 307 ; iv. 130. In the fifteenth century in France, even the porter of the chapter of a cathedral or abbey must be a priest 5 In courts of law, in the fifteenth century, advocates quoted sermons. 6 In 1789, Earl Stanhope gave some curious instances of the persecuting laws of the Eng- lish church. 7 And 8 he says he had ' undergone the drudgery of going through the whole statute book, and found that there were no less than three hundred acts in it upon religion.' Very religious men are always called atheists. In 1626, Sir B. Rudyard said ' he knew two ministers in Lancashire who were found to be unlicensed ale-house keepers.' 9 1 Letter dated Liverpool 1835, in the Life of the Rev. Blanco White, written by himself, London, 8vo, 1845, voL ii. p. 114. 2 Wilson's Life of De Foe, vol. i. p. 83. 3 See Monteil, Hist, des Francais des divers Etats, tome i. p. 32. 4 ibid. p. 36. 5 Ibid, tome iii. p. 103. 6 Ibid, tome iv. p. 92. 7 Parl. History, vol. xxviii. p. 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