History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

While all these things were conspiring to overthrow the old institutions, an event suddenly occurred which produced the most remarkable effects in France, and is itself strikingly characteristic of the spirit of the eighteenth century. On the other side of the Atlantic, a great people, provoked by the intolerable injustice of the English government, rose in arms, turned on their oppressors, and, after a desperate struggle, gloriously obtained their independence. In 1776, the Americans laid before Europe that noble Declaration, which ought to be hung up in the nursery of every king, and blazoned on the porch of every royal palace. In words, the memory of which can never die, they declared, that the object of the institution of government is to secure the rights of the people; that from the people alone it derives its powers; and ‘that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundations on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.’1156

If this declaration had been made only one generation earlier, the whole of France, with the exception of a few advanced thinkers, would have rejected it with horror and with scorn. Such, however, was now the temper of the public mind, that the doctrines it contained were not merely welcomed by a majority of the French nation, but even the government itself was unable to withstand the general feeling.1157 In 1776, Franklin arrived in France, as envoy from the American people. He met with the warmest reception from all classes,1158 and succeeded in inducing the government to sign a treaty, engaging to defend the young republic in the rights it had gloriously won.1159 In Paris, the enthusiasm was irresistible.1160 From every quarter large bodies of men came forward, volunteering to cross the Atlantic and to fight for the liberties of America. The heroism with which these auxiliaries aided the noble struggle, forms a cheering passage in the history of that time; but is foreign to my present purpose, which is merely to notice its effect in hastening the approach of the French Revolution. And this effect was indeed most remarkable. Besides the indirect result produced by the example of a successful rebellion, the French were still further stimulated by actual contact with their new allies. The French officers and soldiers who served in America, introduced into their own country, on their return, those democratic opinions which they had imbibed in the infant republic.1161 By this means, fresh strength was given to the revolutionary tendencies already prevalent; and it is worthy of remark, that Lafayette borrowed from the same source one of his most celebrated acts. He drew his sword on behalf of the Americans; and they, in their turn, communicated to him that famous doctrine respecting the rights of man, which, at his instigation, was formally adopted by the National Assembly.1162 Indeed, there is reason to believe, that the final blow the French government received was actually dealt by the hand of an American; for it is said that it was in consequence of the advice of Jefferson, that the popular part of the legislative body proclaimed itself the National Assembly, and thus set the crown at open defiance.1163

I have now brought to a close my examination of the causes of the French Revolution; but before concluding the present chapter, it appears to me that the variety of topics which have been discussed, makes it advisable that I should sum up their leading points; and should state, as briefly as possible, the steps of that long and complicated argument, by which I have attempted to prove, that the Revolution was an event inevitably arising out of preceding circumstances. Such a summary, by recalling the entire subject before the reader, will remedy any confusion which the fullness of detail may have produced, and will simplify an investigation which many will consider to have been needlessly protracted; but which could not have been abridged without weakening, in some essential part, the support of those general principles that I seek to establish.

Looking at the state of France immediately after the death of Louis XIV., we have seen that, his policy having reduced the country to the brink of ruin, and having destroyed every vestige of free inquiry, a reaction became necessary; but that the materials for the reaction could not be found among a nation, which for fifty years had been exposed to so debilitating a system. This deficiency at home, caused the most eminent Frenchmen to turn their attention abroad, and gave rise to a sudden admiration for the English literature, and for those habits of thought which were then peculiar to the English people. New life being thus breathed into the wasted frame of French society, an eager and inquisitive spirit was generated, such as had not been seen since the time of Descartes. The upper classes, taking offence at this unexpected movement, attempted to stifle it, and made strenuous efforts to destroy that love of inquiry which was daily gaining ground. To effect their object, they persecuted literary men with such bitterness, as to make it evident that the intellect of France must either relapse into its former servility, or else boldly assume the offensive. Happily for the interests of civilization, the latter alternative was adopted; and, in or about 1750, a deadly struggle began, in which those principles of liberty which France borrowed from England, and which had hitherto been supposed only applicable to the church, were for the first time applied to the state. Coinciding with this movement, and indeed forming part of it, other circumstances occurred of the same character. Now it was that the political economists succeeded in proving that the interference of the governing classes had inflicted great mischief even upon the material interests of the country; and had, by their protective measures, injured what they were believed to have benefited. This remarkable discovery in favour of general freedom, put a fresh weapon into the hands of the democratic party; whose strength was still further increased by the unrivalled eloquence with which Rousseau assailed the existing fabric. Precisely the same tendency was exhibited in the extraordinary impulse given to every branch of physical science, which familiarized men with ideas of progress, and brought them into collision with the stationary and conservative ideas natural to government. The discoveries made respecting the external world, encouraged a restlessness and excitement of mind hostile to the spirit of routine, and therefore full of danger for institutions only recommended by their antiquity. This eagerness for physical knowledge also effected a change in education; and the ancient languages being neglected, another link was severed which connected the present with the past. The church, the legitimate protector of old opinions, was unable to resist the passion for novelty, because she was weakened by treason in her own camp. For by this time, Calvinism had spread so much among the French clergy, as to break them into two hostile parties, and render it impossible to rally them against their common foe. The growth of this heresy was also important, because Calvinism being essentially democratic, a revolutionary spirit appeared even in the ecclesiastical profession, so that the feud in the church was accompanied by another feud between the government and the church. These were the leading symptoms of that vast movement which culminated in the French Revolution; and all of them indicated a state of society so anarchical and so thoroughly disorganized, as to make it certain that some great catastrophe was impending. At length, and when everything was ready for explosion, the news of the American Rebellion fell like a spark on the inflammatory mass, and ignited a flame which never ceased its ravages until it had destroyed all that Frenchmen once held dear, and had left for the instruction of mankind an awful lesson of the crimes into which continued oppression may hurry a generous and long-suffering people.

Such is a rapid outline of the view which my studies have led me to take of the causes of the French Revolution. That I have ascertained all the causes, I do not for a moment suppose; but it will, I believe, be found that none of importance have been omitted. It is, indeed, true, that among the materials of which the evidence consists, many deficiencies will be seen; and a more protracted labour would have been rewarded by a greater success. Of these shortcomings I am deeply sensible; and I can only regret that the necessity of passing on to a still larger field has compelled me to leave so much for future inquirers to gather in. At the same time, it ought to be remembered, that this is the first attempt which has ever been made to study the antecedents of the French Revolution according to a scheme wide enough to include the whole of their intellectual bearings. In defiance of sound philosophy, and, I may say, in defiance of common understanding, historians obstinately persist in neglecting those great branches of physical knowledge, in which in every civilized country the operations of the human mind may be most clearly seen, and therefore the mental habits most easily ascertained. The result is, that the French Revolution, unquestionably the most important, the most complicated, and the most glorious event in history, has been given over to authors, many of whom have displayed considerable ability, but all of whom have shown themselves destitute of that preliminary scientific education, in the absence of which it is impossible to seize the spirit of any period, or to take a comprehensive survey of its various parts. Thus, to mention only a single instance: we have seen that the extraordinary impulse given to the study of the external world was intimately connected with that democratic movement which overthrew the institutions of France. But this connexion historians have been unable to trace; because they were unacquainted with the progress of the various branches of natural philosophy and of natural history. Hence it is that they have exhibited their great subject maimed and mutilated, shorn of those fair proportions which it ought to possess. According to this scheme, the historian sinks into the annalist; so that, instead of solving a problem, he merely paints a picture. Without, therefore, disparaging the labours of those industrious men who have collected materials for a history of the French Revolution, we may assuredly say, that the history itself has never been written; since they who have attempted the task have not possessed such resources as would enable them to consider it as merely a single part of that far larger movement which was seen in every department of science, of philosophy, of religion, and of politics.

Whether or not I have effected anything of real value towards remedying this deficiency, is a question for competent judges to decide. Of this, at least, I feel certain, that whatever imperfections may be observed, the fault consists, not in the method proposed, but in the extreme difficulty of any single man putting into full operation all the parts of so vast a scheme. It is on this point, and on this alone, that I feel the need of great indulgence. But, as to the plan itself, I have no misgivings; because I am deeply convinced that the time is fast approaching when the history of Man will be placed on its proper footing; when its study will be recognized as the noblest and most arduous of all pursuits; and when it will be clearly seen, that, to cultivate it with success, there is wanted a wide and comprehensive mind, richly furnished with the highest branches of human knowledge. When this is fully admitted, history will be written only by those whose habits fit them for the task; and it will be rescued from the hands of biographers, genealogists, collectors of anecdotes, chroniclers of courts, of princes, and of nobles, – those babblers of vain things, who lie in wait at every corner, and infest this the public highway of our national literature. That such compilers should trespass on a province so far above their own, and should think that by these means they can throw light on the affairs of men, is one of many proofs of the still backward condition of our knowledge, and of the indistinctness with which its boundaries have been mapped out. If I have done anything towards bringing these intrusions into discredit, and inspiring historians themselves with a sense of the dignity of their own calling, I shall have rendered in my time some little service, and I shall be well content to have it said, that in many cases I have failed in executing what I originally proposed. Indeed, that there are in this volume several instances of such failure, I willingly allow; and I can only plead the immensity of the subject, the shortness of a single life, and the imperfection of every single enterprise. I, therefore, wish this work to be estimated, not according to the finish of its separate parts, but according to the way in which those parts have been fused into a complete and symmetrical whole. This, in an undertaking of such novelty and magnitude, I have a right to expect. And I would, moreover, add, that if the reader has met with opinions adverse to his own, he should remember that his views are, perchance, the same as those which I too once held, and which I have abandoned, because, after a wider range of study, I found them unsupported by solid proof, subversive of the interests of Man, and fatal to the progress of his knowledge. To examine the notions in which we have been educated, and to turn aside from those which will not bear the test, is a task so painful, that they who shrink from the suffering should pause before they reproach those by whom the suffering is undergone. What I have put forward may, no doubt, be erroneous; but it is, at all events, the result of an honest searching after truth, of unsparing labour, of patient and anxious reflection. Conclusions arrived at in this way, are not to be overturned by stating that they endanger some other conclusions; nor can they be even affected by allegations against their supposed tendency. The principles which I advocate, are based upon distinct arguments, supported by well-ascertained facts. The only points, therefore, to be ascertained, are, whether the arguments are fair, and whether the facts are certain. If these two conditions have been obeyed, the principles follow by an inevitable inference. Their demonstration is, in the present volume, necessarily incomplete; and the reader must suspend his final judgment until the close of this Introduction, when the subject in all its bearings will be laid before him. The remaining part of the Introduction will be occupied, as I have already intimated, with an investigation of the civilizations of Germany, America, Scotland, and Spain; each of which presents a different type of intellectual development, and has, therefore, followed a different direction in its religious, scientific, social, and political history. The causes of these differences I shall attempt to ascertain. The next step will be to generalize the causes themselves; and having thus referred them to certain principles common to all, we shall be possessed of what may be called the fundamental laws of European thought; the divergence of the different countries being regulated either by the direction those laws take, or else by their comparative energy. To discover these fundamental laws will be the business of the Introduction; while, in the body of the work, I shall apply them to the history of England, and endeavour by their aid to work out the epochs through which we have successively passed, fix the basis of our present civilization, and indicate the path of our future progress.

CHAPTER VIII

OUTLINE OF THE HISTORY OF THE SPANISH INTELLECT FROM THE FIFTH TO THE MIDDLE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

In the preceding chapters, I have endeavoured to establish four leading propositions, which, according to my view, are to be deemed the basis of the history of civilization. They are: 1st, That the progress of mankind depends on the success with which the laws of phenomena are investigated, and on the extent to which a knowledge of those laws is diffused. 2nd, That before such investigation can begin, a spirit of scepticism must arise, which, at first aiding the investigation, is afterwards aided by it. 3rd, That the discoveries thus made, increase the influence of intellectual truths, and diminish, relatively not absolutely, the influence of moral truths; moral truths being more stationary than intellectual truths, and receiving fewer additions. 4th, That the great enemy of this movement, and therefore the great enemy of civilization, is the protective spirit; by which I mean the notion that society cannot prosper, unless the affairs of life are watched over and protected at nearly every turn by the state and the church; the state teaching men what they are to do, and the church teaching them what they are to believe. Such are the propositions which I hold to be the most essential for a right understanding of history, and which I have defended in the only two ways any proposition can be defended; namely, inductively and deductively. The inductive defence comprises a collection of historical and scientific facts, which suggest and authorize the conclusions drawn from them; while the deductive defence consists of a verification of those conclusions, by showing how they explain the history of different countries and their various fortunes. To the former, or inductive method of defence, I am at present unable to add anything new; but the deductive defence I hope to strengthen considerably, and by the aid of the following chapters, confirm not only the four cardinal propositions just stated, but also several minor propositions, which, though strictly speaking flowing from them, will require separate verification. According to the plan already sketched, the remaining part of the introduction will contain an examination of the history of Spain, of Scotland, of Germany, and of the United States of America, with the object of elucidating principles on which the history of England supplies inadequate information. And as Spain is the country where what I conceive to be the fundamental conditions of national improvement have been most flagrantly violated, so also shall we find that it is the country where the penalty paid for the violation has been most heavy, and where, therefore, it is most instructive to ascertain how the prevalence of certain opinions causes the decay of the people among whom they predominate.

We have seen that the old tropical civilizations were accompanied by remarkable features which I have termed Aspects of Nature, and which, by inflaming the imagination, encouraged superstition, and prevented men from daring to analyze such threatening physical phenomena; in other words, prevented the creation of the physical sciences. Now, it is an interesting fact that, in these respects, no European country is so analogous to the tropics as Spain. No other part of Europe is so clearly designated by nature as the seat and refuge of superstition. Recurring to what has been already proved,1164 it will be remembered that among the most important physical causes of superstition are famines, epidemics, earthquakes, and that general unhealthiness of climate, which, by shortening the average duration of life, increases the frequency and earnestness with which supernatural aid is invoked. These peculiarities, taken together, are more prominent in Spain than anywhere else in Europe; it will therefore be useful to give such a summary of them as will exhibit the mischievous effects they have produced in shaping the national character.

If we except the northern extremity of Spain, we may say that the two principal characteristics of the climate are heat and dryness, both of which are favoured by the extreme difficulty which nature has interposed in regard to irrigation. For, the rivers which intersect the land, run mostly in beds too deep to be made available for watering the soil, which consequently is, and always has been, remarkably arid.1165 Owing to this, and to the infrequency of rain, there is no European country as richly endowed in other respects, where droughts and therefore famines have been so frequent and serious.1166 At the same time the vicissitudes of climate, particularly in the central parts, make Spain habitually unhealthy; and this general tendency being strengthened in the middle ages by the constant occurrence of famine, caused the ravages of pestilence to be unusually fatal.1167 When we moreover add that in the Peninsula, including Portugal, earthquakes have been extremely disastrous,1168 and have excited all those superstitious feelings which they naturally provoke, we may form some idea of the insecurity of life, and of the ease with which an artful and ambitious priesthood could turn such insecurity into an engine for the advancement of their own power.1169

Another feature of this singular country is the prevalence of a pastoral life, mainly caused by the difficulty of establishing regular habits of agricultural industry. In most parts of Spain, the climate renders it impossible for the labourer to work the whole of the day;1170 and this forced interruption encourages among the people an irregularity and instability of purpose, which makes them choose the wandering avocations of a shepherd, rather than the more fixed pursuits of agriculture.1171 And during the long and arduous war which they waged against their Mohammedan invaders, they were subject to such incessant surprises and forays on the part of the enemy, as to make it advisable that their means of subsistence should be easily removed; hence they preferred the produce of their flocks to that of their lands, and were shepherds instead of agriculturists, simply because by that means they would suffer less in case of an unfavourable issue. Even after the capture of Toledo, late in the eleventh century, the inhabitants of the frontier in Estramadura, La Mancha, and New Castile, were almost entirely herdsmen, and their cattle were pastured not in private meadows but in the open fields.1172 All this increased the uncertainty of life, and strengthened that love of adventure, and that spirit of romance, which, at a later period, gave a tone to the popular literature. Under such circumstances, everything grew precarious, restless, and unsettled; thought and inquiry were impossible; doubt was unknown; and the way was prepared for those superstitious habits, and for that deep-rooted and tenacious belief, which have always formed a principal feature in the history of the Spanish nation.

To what extent these circumstances would, if they stood by themselves, have affected the ultimate destiny of Spain, is a question hardly possible to answer; but there can be no doubt that their effects must always have been important, though, from the paucity of evidence, we are unable to measure them with precision. In regard, however, to the actual result, this point is of little moment, because a long chain of other and still more influential events became interwoven with those just mentioned, and, tending in precisely the same direction, produced a combination which nothing could resist, and from which we may trace with unerring certainty the steps by which the nation subsequently declined. The history of the causes of the degradation of Spain will indeed become too clear to be mistaken, if studied in reference to those general principles which I have enunciated, and which will themselves be confirmed by the light they throw on this instructive though melancholy subject.

After the subversion of the Roman Empire, the first leading fact in the history of Spain is the settlement of the Visigoths, and the establishment of their opinions in the Peninsula. They, as well as the Suevi, who immediately preceded them, were Arians, and Spain during a hundred and fifty years became the rallying point of that famous heresy,1173 to which indeed most of the Gothic tribes then adhered. But, at the end of the fifth century, the Franks, on their conversion from Paganism, adopted the opposite and orthodox creed, and were encouraged by their clergy to make war upon their heretical neighbours. Clovis, who was then king of the Franks, was regarded by the church as the champion of the faith, in whose behalf he attacked the unbelieving Visigoths.1174 His successors, moved by the same motives, pursued the same policy;1175 and, during nearly a century, there was a war of opinions between France and Spain, by which the Visigothic Empire was seriously endangered, and was more than once on the verge of dissolution. Hence, in Spain, a war for national independence became also a war for national religion,1176 and an intimate alliance was formed between the Arian kings and the Arian clergy. The latter class were, in those ages of ignorance, sure to gain by such a compact,1177 and they received considerable temporal advantages in return for the prayers which they offered up against the enemy, as also for the miracles which they occasionally performed. Thus early a foundation was laid for the immense influence which the Spanish priesthood have possessed ever since, and which was strengthened by subsequent events. For, late in the sixth century, the Latin clergy converted their Visigothic masters, and the Spanish government, becoming orthodox, naturally conferred upon its teachers an authority equal to that wielded by the Arian hierarchy.1178 Indeed, the rulers of Spain, grateful to those who had shown them the error of their ways, were willing rather to increase the power of the church than to diminish it. The clergy took advantage of this disposition; and the result was, that before the middle of the seventh century the spiritual classes possessed more influence in Spain than in any other part of Europe.1179 The ecclesiastical synods became not only councils of the church, but also parliaments of the realm.1180 At Toledo, which was then the capital of Spain, the power of the clergy was immense, and was so ostentatiously displayed, that in a council they held there in the year 633, we find the king literally prostrating himself on the ground before the bishops;1181 and half a century later, the ecclesiastical historian mentions that this humiliating practice was repeated by another king, having become, he says, an established custom.1182 That this was not a mere meaningless ceremony, is moreover evident from other and analogous facts. Exactly the same tendency is seen in their jurisprudence; since, by the Visigothic code, any layman, whether plaintiff or defendant, might insist on his cause being tried not by the temporal magistrate, but by the bishop of the diocese. Nay, even if both parties to the suit were agreed in preferring the civil tribunal, the bishop still retained the power of revoking the decision, if in his opinion it was incorrect; and it was his especial business to watch over the administration of justice, and to instruct the magistrates how to perform their duty.1183 Another, and more painful proof of the ascendency of the clergy, is that the laws against heretics were harsher in Spain than in any other country; the Jews in particular being persecuted with unrelenting rigour.1184 Indeed, the desire of upholding the faith was strong enough to produce a formal declaration that no sovereign should be acknowledged, unless he promised to preserve its purity; the judges of the purity being of course the bishops themselves, to whose suffrage the king owed his throne.1185