religion of mankind is the effect of their improvement, not the cause of
it. But, looking at things upon a small scale, or taking what is called
a practical view of some short and special period, circumstances will
occasionally occur which disturb this general order, and apparently
reverse the natural process. And this, as in all such cases, can only
arise from the peculiarities of individual men; who, moved by the minor
laws which regulate individual actions, are able, by their genius or
their energy, to interfere with the operation of those greater laws
which regulate large societies. Owing to circumstances still unknown,
there appear, from time to time, great thinkers, who, devoting their
lives to a single purpose, are able to anticipate the progress of
mankind, and to produce a religion or a philosophy, by which important
effects are eventually brought about. But, if we look into history, we
shall clearly see that, although the origin of a new opinion may be thus
due to a single man, the result which the new opinion produces will
depend on the condition of the people among whom it is propagated. If
either a religion or a philosophy is too much in advance of a nation, it
can do no present service, but must bide its time, until the minds of
men are ripe for its reception. Of this innumerable instances will occur
to most readers. Every science and every creed has had its martyrs; men
exposed to obloquy, or even to death, because they knew more than their
contemporaries, and because society was not sufficiently advanced to
receive the truths which they communicated. According to the ordinary
course of affairs, a few generations pass away, and then there comes a
period when these very truths are looked upon as commonplace facts; and
a little later, there comes another period, in which they are declared
to be necessary, and even the dullest intellects wonder how they could
ever have been denied. This is what happens when the human mind is
allowed to have fair play, and to exercise itself, with tolerable
freedom, in the accumulation and diffusion of knowledge. If, however, by
violent, and therefore by artificial, means, this same society is
prevented from exercising its intellect, then the truths, however
important they may be, can never be received. For why should certain
truths be rejected in one age, and acknowledged in another? The truths
remain the same; their ultimate recognition must, therefore, be due to a
change in the society which now accepts what it had before despised.
Indeed, history is full of evidence of the utter inefficiency even of
the noblest principles, when they are promulgated among a very ignorant
nation. Thus it was that the doctrine of One God, taught to the Hebrews
of old, remained for many centuries altogether inoperative. The people
to whom it was addressed had not yet emerged from barbarism; they were,
therefore, unable to raise their minds to so elevated a conception. Like
all other barbarians, they craved after a religion which would feed
their credulity with incessant wonders; and which, instead of
abstracting the Deity to a single essence, would multiply their gods
until they covered every field, and swarmed in every forest. This is the
idolatry which is the natural fruit of ignorance; and this it is to
which the Hebrews were perpetually recurring. Notwithstanding the most
severe and unremitting punishments, they, at every opportunity,
abandoned that pure theism which their minds were too backward to
receive, and relapsed into superstitions which they could more easily
understand,--into the worship of the golden calf, and the adoration of
the brazen serpent. Now, and in this age of the world, they have long
ceased to do these things. And why? Not because their religious feelings
are more easily aroused, or their religious fears more often excited. So
far from this, they are dissevered from their old associations; they
have lost for ever those scenes by which men might well have been moved.
They are no longer influenced by those causes which inspired emotions,
sometimes of terror, sometimes of gratitude. They no longer witness the
pillar of cloud by day, or the pillar of fire by night; they no longer
see the Law being given from Sinai, nor do they hear the thunder rolling
from Horeb. In the presence of these great appeals, they remained
idolaters in their hearts, and whenever an opportunity occurred, they
became idolaters in their practice, and this they did because they were
in that state of barbarism, of which idolatry is the natural product. To
what possible circumstance can their subsequent change be ascribed,
except to the simple fact, that the Hebrews, like all other people, as
they advanced in civilization, began to abstract and refine their
religion, and, despising the old worship of many gods, thus by slow
degrees elevated their minds to that steady perception of One Great
Cause, which, at an earlier period, it had been vainly attempted to
impress upon them?
Thus intimate is the connexion between the opinions of a people and
their knowledge; and thus necessary is it that, so far as nations are
concerned, intellectual activity should precede religious improvement.
If we require further illustrations of this important truth, we shall
find them in the events which occurred in Europe soon after the
promulgation of Christianity. The Romans were, with rare exceptions, an
ignorant and barbarous race; ferocious, dissolute, and cruel. For such a
people, Polytheism was the natural creed; and we read, accordingly, that
they practised an idolatry which a few great thinkers, and only a few,
ventured to despise. The Christian religion, falling among these men,
found them unable to appreciate its sublime and admirable doctrines. And
when, a little later, Europe was overrun by fresh immigrations, the
invaders, who were even more barbarous than the Romans, brought with
them those superstitions which were suited to their actual condition. It
was upon the materials arising from these two sources that Christianity
was now called to do her work. The result is most remarkable. For after
the new religion seemed to have carried all before it, and had received
the homage of the best part of Europe, it was soon found that nothing
had been really effected. It was soon found that society was in that
early stage in which superstition is inevitable; and in which men, if
they do not have it in one form, will have it in another. It was in vain
that Christianity taught a simple doctrine, and enjoined a simple
worship. The minds of men were too backward for so great a step, and
required more complicated forms, and a more complicated belief. What
followed is well known to the students of ecclesiastical history. The
superstition of Europe, instead of being diminished, was only turned
into a fresh channel. The new religion was corrupted by the old follies.
The adoration of idols was succeeded by the adoration of saints; the
worship of the Virgin was substituted for the worship of Cybele;[395]
Pagan ceremonies were established in Christian churches; not only the
mummeries of idolatry, but likewise its doctrines, were quickly added,
and were incorporated and worked into the spirit of the new religion;
until, after a lapse of a few generations, Christianity exhibited so
grotesque and hideous a form, that its best features were lost, and the
lineaments of its earlier loveliness altogether destroyed.[396]
[395] This is curiously illustrated by the fact, that the 25th of March,
which is now called Lady-day, in honour of the Virgin Mary, was,
in Pagan times, called Hilaria, and was dedicated to Cybele, the
mother of the gods. Compare _Blunt's Vestiges of Ancient
Manners_, 8vo. 1823, pp. 51-55, with _Hampson's Medii Ævi
Kalendarium_, 8vo. 1841, vol. i. pp. 56, 177.
[396] On this interesting subject, the two best English books are,
_Middleton's Letter from Rome_, and _Priestley's History of the
Corruption of Christianity_; the former work being chiefly
valuable for ritual corruptions, the latter work for doctrinal
ones. _Blunt's Vestiges of Ancient Manners_ is also worth
reading; but is very inferior to the two treatises just named,
and is conceived in a much narrower spirit.
After some centuries were passed, Christianity slowly emerged from these
corruptions; many of which, however, even the most civilized countries
have not yet been able to throw off.[397] Indeed, it was found
impossible to effect even the beginning of a reform, until the European
intellect was, in some degree, roused from its lethargy. The knowledge
of men, gradually advancing, made them indignant at superstitions which
they had formerly admired. The way in which their indignation increased,
until, in the sixteenth century, it broke out into that great event
which is well called the Reformation, forms one of the most interesting
subjects in modern history. But, for our present purpose, it is enough
to keep in mind the memorable and important fact that, for centuries
after Christianity was the established religion of Europe, it failed to
bear its natural fruit, because its lot was cast among a people whose
ignorance compelled them to be superstitious, and who, on account of
their superstition, defaced a system which, in its original purity, they
were unable to receive.[398]
[397] The large amount of Paganism which still exists in every Christian
sect, forms an argument against an ingenious distinction which M.
Bunsen has made between the change of a religion and that of a
language; alterations in a religion being, as he supposes, always
more abrupt than those in a language. _Bunsen's Egypt_, vol. i.
pp. 358, 359.
[398] It was necessary, says M. Maury, that the church 'se rapprochât
davantage de l'esprit grossier, inculte, ignorant du barbare.'
_Maury_, _Légendes Pieuses du Moyen Age_, p. 101. An exactly
similar process has taken place in India, where the Puranas are
to the Vedas what the works of the Fathers are to the New
Testament. Compare _Elphinstone's History of India_, pp. 87, 88,
98; _Wilson's Preface to the Vishnu Parana_, p. 7; and
_Transactions of Bombay Society_, vol. i. p. 205. So that as M.
Max Müller well expresses it, the Puranas are 'a secondary
formation of Indian mythology.' _Müller on the Languages of
India_, in _Reports of British Association for 1847_, p. 324.
Indeed, in every page of history, we meet with fresh evidence of the
little effect religious doctrines can produce upon a people, unless
preceded by intellectual culture. The influence exercised by
Protestantism, as compared with Catholicism, affords an interesting
example of this. The Catholic religion bears to the Protestant religion
exactly the same relation that the Dark Ages bear to the sixteenth
century. In the Dark Ages, men were credulous and ignorant; they
therefore produced a religion which required great belief and little
knowledge. In the sixteenth century, their credulity and ignorance,
though still considerable, were rapidly diminishing, and it was found
necessary to organize a religion suited to their altered circumstances:
a religion more favourable to free inquiry; a religion less full of
miracles, saints, legends, and idols; a religion of which the ceremonies
were less frequent, and less burdensome; a religion which should
discourage penance, fasting, confession, celibacy, and those other
mortifications which had long been universal. All this was done by the
establishment of Protestantism; a mode of worship which, being thus
suited to the age, made, as is well known, speedy progress. If this
great movement had been allowed to proceed without interruption, it
would, in the course of a few generations, have overthrown the old
superstition, and established in its place a simpler and less
troublesome creed; the rapidity with which this was done, being, of
course, proportioned to the intellectual activity of the different
countries. But, unfortunately, the European governments, who are always
meddling in matters with which they have no concern, thought it their
duty to protect the religious interests of the people; and making
common cause with the Catholic clergy, they, in many instances, forcibly
stopped the heresy, and thus arrested the natural development of the
age. This interference was, in nearly all cases, well intended, and is
solely to be ascribed to the ignorance of rulers respecting the proper
limits of their functions: but the evils caused by this ignorance it
would be difficult to exaggerate. During almost a hundred and fifty
years, Europe was afflicted by religious wars, religious massacres, and
religious persecutions; not one of which would have arisen, if the great
truth had been recognised, that the state has no concern with the
opinions of men, and no right to interfere, even in the slightest
degree, with the form of worship which they may choose to adopt. This
principle was, however, formerly unknown, or at all events unheeded; and
it was not until the middle of the seventeenth century that the great
religious contests were brought to a final close, and the different
countries settled down into their public creeds; which, in the essential
points, have never since been permanently altered; no nation having, for
more than two hundred years, made war upon another on account of its
religion; and all the great Catholic countries having, during the same
period, remained Catholic, all the great Protestant ones remained
Protestant.
From this it has arisen, that, in several of the European countries, the
religious development has not followed its natural order, but has been
artificially forced into an unnatural one. According to the natural
order, the most civilized countries should all be Protestants, and the
most uncivilized ones Catholics. In the average of instances this is
actually the case; so that many persons have been led into the singular
error, of ascribing all modern enlightenment to the influence of
Protestantism; overlooking the important fact, that until the
enlightenment had begun, Protestantism was never required. But although,
in the ordinary course of affairs, the advance of the Reformation would
have been the measure, and the symptom, of that advance of knowledge by
which it was preceded, still, in many cases, the authority of the
government and of the church acted as disturbing causes, and frustrated
the natural progress of religious improvement. And, after the treaty of
Westphalia had fixed the political relations of Europe, the love of
theological strife so greatly subsided, that men no longer thought it
worth their while to raise a religious revolution, and to risk their
lives in an attempt to overturn the creed of the state. At the same
time, governments, not being themselves particularly fond of
revolutions, have encouraged this stationary condition; and very
naturally, and, as it appears to me, very wisely, have made no great
alteration, but have left the national establishments as they found
them; that is to say, the Protestant ones Protestant, and the Catholic
ones Catholic. Hence it is, that the national religion professed by any
country at the present moment, is no decisive criterion of the present
civilization of the country; because the circumstances which fixed the
religion occurred long since, and the religion remains endowed and
established by the mere continuance of an impetus which was formerly
given.
Thus far as to the origin of the ecclesiastical establishments of
Europe. But, in their practical consequences, we see some results which
are highly instructive. For many countries owing their national creed,
not to their own proper antecedents, but to the authority of powerful
individuals, it will be invariably found, that in such countries the
creed does not produce the effects which might have been expected from
it, and which, according to its terms, it ought to produce. Thus, for
instance, the Catholic religion is more superstitious, and more
intolerant, than the Protestant; but it by no means follows, that those
countries which profess the former creed, must be more superstitious,
and more intolerant, than those which profess the latter. So far from
this, the French are not only quite as free from those odious qualities
as are the most civilized Protestants, but they are more free from them
than some Protestant nations, as the Scotch and the Swedes. Of the
highly-educated class, I am not here speaking; but of the clergy, and of
the people generally, it must be admitted, that in Scotland there is
more bigotry, more superstition, and a more thorough contempt for the
religion of others, than there is in France. And in Sweden, which is one
of the oldest Protestant countries in Europe,[399] there is, not
occasionally, but habitually, an intolerance and a spirit of
persecution, which would be discreditable to a Catholic country; but
which is doubly disgraceful when proceeding from a people who profess to
base their religion on the right of private judgment.[400]
[399] The doctrines of Luther were first preached in Sweden in 1519;
and, in 1527, the principles of the Reformation were formally
adopted in an assembly of the States at Westeraas, which enabled
Gustavus Vasa to seize the property of the church. _Geijer's
History of the Swedes_, part i. pp. 110, 118, 119; _Mosheim's
Ecclesiastical History_, vol. ii. p. 22; _Crichton and Wheaton's
History of Scandinavia_, vol. i. pp. 399, 400. The apostasy
proceeded so favourably, that De Thou (_Histoire Univ._ vol.
xiii. p. 312) says, in 1598, 'Il y avoit déjà si long-tems que ce
culte étoit établi en Suède, qu'il étoit comme impossible de
trouver, soit parmi le peuple, soit parmi les seigneurs,
quelqu'un qui se souvînt d'avoir vu dans ce roïaume l'exercice
public de la religion catholique.'
[400] On the state of things in 1838, see some curious, and indeed
shameful, details in _Laing's Sweden_, 8vo. London, 1839. Mr.
Laing, though himself a Protestant, truly says, that in
Protestant Sweden there 'is inquisition law, working in the hands
of a Lutheran state-church, as strongly as in Spain or Portugal
in the hands of a Roman Catholic Church.' _Laing's Sweden_, p.
324. In the seventeenth century, it was ordered by the Swedish
Church, and the order was confirmed by government, that 'if any
Swedish subject change his religion, he shall be banished the
kingdom, and lose all right of inheritance, both for himself and
his descendants.... If any bring into the country teachers of
another religion, he shall be fined and banished.' _Burton's
Diary_, vol. iii. p. 387, 8vo. 1828. To this may be added, that
it was not till 1781 that Roman Catholics were allowed to
exercise their religion in Sweden. See _Crichton's History of
Scandinavia_, Edinb. 1838, vol. ii. p. 320. See also, on this
intolerant spirit, _Whitelocke's Journal of the Swedish Embassy_,
vol. i. pp. 164, 412, vol. ii. p. 312.
These things show, what it would be easy to prove by a wider induction,
that when, from special, or, as they are called, accidental causes, any
people profess a religion more advanced than themselves, it will not
produce its legitimate effect.[401] The superiority of Protestantism
over Catholicism consists in its diminution of superstition and
intolerance, and in the check which it gives to ecclesiastical power.
But the experience of Europe teaches us, that when the superior religion
is fixed among an inferior people, its superiority is no longer seen.
The Scotch and the Swedes,--and to them might be added some of the Swiss
cantons,--are less civilized than the French, and are therefore more
superstitious. This being the case, it avails them little that they have
a religion better than the French. It avails them little that, owing to
circumstances which have long since passed away, they, three centuries
ago, adopted a creed to which the force of habit, and the influence of
tradition, now oblige them to cling. Whoever has travelled in Scotland
with sufficient attention to observe the ideas and opinions of the
people, and whoever will look into Scotch theology, and read the history
of the Scotch Kirk, and the proceedings of the Scotch Assemblies and
Consistories, will see how little the country has benefited by its
religion, and how wide an interval there is between its intolerant
spirit and the natural tendencies of the Protestant Reformation. On the
other hand, whoever will subject France to a similar examination, will
see an illiberal religion accompanied by liberal views, and a creed full
of superstitions professed by a people among whom superstition is
comparatively rare.
[401] We see a good instance of this in the case of the Abyssinians, who
have professed Christianity for centuries; but, as no pains were
taken to cultivate their intellect, they found the religion too
pure for them: they, therefore, corrupted it, and, down to the
present moment, they have not made the slightest progress. The
accounts given by Bruce of them are well known; and a traveller,
who visited them in 1839, says: 'Nothing can be more corrupt than
the nominal Christianity of this unhappy nation. It is mixed up
with Judaism, Mahommedanism, and idolatry, and is a mass of rites
and superstitions which cannot mend the heart.' _Kraff's Journal
at Ankobar_, in _Journal of Geographical Society_, vol. x. p.
488; see also vol. xiv. p. 13: and for a similar state of things
in America, see the account of the Quiché Indians, in _Stephens's
Central America_, vol. ii. pp. 191, 192. Compare _Squier's
Central America_, vol. i. pp. 322, 323, with _Halkett's
North-American Indians_, pp. 29, 212, 268. For further
confirmation of this view, in another part of the world, see
_Tuckey's Expedition to the Zaire_, pp. 79, 80, 165.
The simple fact is, that the French have a religion worse than
themselves; the Scotch have a religion better than themselves. The
liberality of France is as ill suited to Catholicism, as the bigotry of
Scotland is ill suited to Protestantism. In these, as in all similar
cases, the characteristics of the creed are overpowered by the
characteristics of the people; and the national faith is, in the most
important points, altogether inoperative, because it does not harmonize
with the civilization of the country in which it is established. How
idle, then, it is to ascribe the civilization to the creed; and how
worse than foolish are the attempts of government to protect a religion
which, if suited to the people, will need no protection, and, if
unsuited to them, will work no good!
If the reader has seized the spirit of the preceding arguments, he will
hardly require that I should analyze with equal minuteness the second
disturbing cause, namely, Literature. It is evident, that what has
already been said respecting the religion of a people, is, in a great
measure, applicable to their literature. Literature,[402] when it is in
a healthy and unforced state, is simply the form in which the knowledge
of a country is registered; the mould in which it is cast. In this, as
in the other cases we have considered, individual men may of course take
great steps, and rise to a great height above the level of their age.
But if they rise beyond a certain point, their present usefulness is
impaired; if they rise still higher, it is destroyed.[403] When the
interval between the intellectual classes and the practical classes is
too great, the former will possess no influence, the latter will reap no
benefit. This is what occurred in the ancient world, when the distance
between the ignorant idolatry of the people and the refined systems of
philosophers was altogether impassable;[404] and this is the principal
reason why the Greeks and Romans were unable to retain the civilization
which they for a short time possessed. Precisely the same process is at
the present moment going on in Germany, where the most valuable part of
literature forms an esoteric system, which, having nothing in common
with the nation itself, produces no effect on the national civilization.
The truth is, that although Europe has received great benefit from its
literature, this is owing, not to what the literature has originated,
but to what it has preserved. Knowledge must be acquired, before it can
be written; and the only use of books is, to serve as a storehouse in
which the treasures of the intellect are safely kept, and where they
may be conveniently found. Literature, in itself, is but a trifling
matter; and is merely valuable as being the armory in which the weapons
of the human mind are laid up, and from which, when required, they can
be quickly drawn. But he would be a sorry reasoner, who, on that
account, should propose to sacrifice the end, that he might obtain the
means; who should hope to defend the armory by giving up the weapons,
and who should destroy the treasure, in order to improve the magazine in
which the treasure is kept.
[402] I use the word literature, not as opposed to science, but in its
larger sense, including everything which is written--'taking the
term literature in its primary sense, of an application of
letters to the records of facts or opinions.' _Mure's History of
the Literature of Greece_, vol. iv. p. 50.
[403] Compare _Tocqueville_, _Démocratie en Amérique_, vol. ii. p. 130,
with some admirable remarks on the Sophists in _Grote's History
of Greece_, vol. viii. p. 481. Sir W. Hamilton, whose learning
respecting the history of opinions is well known, says,
'Precisely in proportion as an author is in advance of his age,
is it likely that his works will be neglected.' _Hamilton's
Discussions on Philosophy_, p. 186. Thus, too, in regard to the
line arts, Sir Joshua Reynolds (_Fourth Discourse_, in _Works_,
vol. i. p. 363) says, 'Present time and future may be considered
as rivals; and he who solicits the one, must expect to be
discountenanced by the other.'
[404] Hence the intellectually exclusive and, as M. Neander well terms
it, 'aristocratic spirit of antiquity.' _Neander's History of the
Church_, vol. i. pp. 40, 97, vol. ii. p. 31. This is constantly
overlooked by writers who use the word 'democracy' loosely;
forgetting that, in the same age, democracies of politics may be
very common, while democracies of thought are very rare. For
proof of the universal prevalence formerly of this esoteric and
aristocratic spirit, see the following passages: _Ritter's
History of Ancient Philosophy_, vol. i. p. 338, vol. iii. pp. 9,
17; _Tennemann_, _Geschichte der Philosophie_, vol. ii. pp. 200,
205, 220; _Beausobre_, _Histoire Critique de Manichée_, vol. ii.
p. 41; _Matter_, _Histoire du Gnosticisme_, vol. i. p. 13, vol.
ii. pp. 83, 370; _Sprengel_, _Histoire de la Médecine_, vol. i.
p. 250; _Grote's History of Greece_, vol. i. p. 561, vol. iv. p.
544; _Thirlwall's History of Greece_, vol. ii. p. 150, vol. vi.
p. 95; _Warburton's Works_, vol. vii. pp. 962, 972, 4to. 1788;
_Sharpe's History of Egypt_, vol. ii. p. 174; _Cudworth's
Intellect. System_, vol. ii. pp. 114, 365, 443, vol. iii. p. 20.
Yet this is what many persons are apt to do. From literary men, in
particular, we hear too much of the necessity of protecting and
rewarding literature, and we hear too little of the necessity of that
freedom and boldness, in the absence of which the most splendid
literature is altogether worthless. Indeed, there is a general tendency,
not to exaggerate the advantages of knowledge,--for that is
impossible,--but to misunderstand what that is in which knowledge really
consists. Real knowledge, the knowledge on which all civilization is
based, solely consists in an acquaintance with the relations which
things and ideas bear to each other and to themselves; in other words,
in an acquaintance with physical and mental laws. If the time should
ever come when all these laws are known, the circle of human knowledge
will then be complete; and, in the interim, the value of literature
depends upon the extent to which it communicates either a knowledge of
the laws, or the materials by which the laws may be discovered. The
business of education is to accelerate this great movement, and thus
increase the fitness and aptitude of men, by increasing the resources
which they possess. Towards this purpose, literature, so far as it is
auxiliary, is highly useful. But to look upon an acquaintance with
literature as one of the objects of education, is to mistake the order
of events, and to make the end subservient to the means. It is because
this is done, that we often find what are called highly educated men,
the progress of whose knowledge has been actually retarded by the
activity of their education. We often find them burdened by prejudices,
which their reading, instead of dissipating, has rendered more
inveterate.[405] For literature, being the depository of the thoughts of
mankind, is full, not only of wisdom, but also of absurdities. The
benefit, therefore, which is derived from literature, will depend, not
so much upon the literature itself, as upon the skill with which it is
studied, and the judgment with which it is selected. These are the
preliminary conditions of success; and if they are not obeyed, the
number and the value of the books in a country become a matter quite
unimportant. Even in an advanced stage of civilization, there is always
a tendency to prefer those parts of literature which favour ancient
prejudices, rather than those which oppose them; and in cases where this
tendency is very strong, the only effect of great learning will be, to
supply the materials which may corroborate old errors, and confirm old
superstitions. In our time such instances are not uncommon; and we
frequently meet with men whose erudition ministers to their ignorance,
and who the more they read, the less they know. There have been states
of society in which this disposition was so general, that literature has
done far more harm than good. Thus, for example, in the whole period
from the sixth to the tenth centuries, there were not in all Europe more
than three or four men who dared to think for themselves; and even they
were obliged to veil their meaning in obscure and mystical language. The
remaining part of society was, during these four centuries, sunk in the
most degrading ignorance. Under these circumstances, the few who were
able to read, confined their studies to works which encouraged and
strengthened their superstition, such as the legends of the saints, and
the homilies of the fathers. From these sources they drew those lying
and impudent fables, of which the theology of that time is principally
composed.[406] These miserable stories were widely circulated, and were
valued as solid and important truths. The more the literature was read,
the more the stories were believed; in other words, the greater the
learning, the greater the ignorance.[407] And I entertain no doubt, that
if, in the seventh and eighth centuries, which were the worst part of
that period,[408] all knowledge of the alphabet had for a while been
lost, so that men could no longer read the books in which they
delighted, the subsequent progress of Europe would have been more rapid
than it really was. For when the progress began, its principal
antagonist was that credulity which the literature had fostered. It was
not that better books were wanting, but it was that the relish for such
books was extinct. There was the literature of Greece and Rome, which
the monks not only preserved, but even occasionally looked into and
copied. But what could that avail such readers as they? So far from
recognizing the merit of the ancient writers, they were unable to feel
even the beauties of their style, and they trembled at the boldness of
their inquiries. At the first glimpse of the light, their eyes were
blinded. They never turned the leaves of a pagan author without
standing aghast at the risk they were running; and they were in constant
fear, lest by imbibing any of his opinions, they should involve
themselves in a deadly sin. The result was, that they willingly laid
aside the great master-pieces of antiquity; and in their place they
substituted those wretched compilations, which corrupted their taste,
increased their credulity, strengthened their errors, and prolonged the
ignorance of Europe, by embodying each separate superstition in a
written and accessible form, thus perpetuating its influence, and
enabling it to enfeeble the understanding even of a distant posterity.
[405] Locke has noticed this 'learned ignorance,' for which many men are
remarkable. See a fine passage in the _Essay on Human
Understanding_, book iii. chap. x. in _Locke's Works_, vol. ii.
p. 27, and similar remarks in his _Conduct of the Understanding_,
vol. ii. pp. 350, 364, 365, and in his _Thoughts on Education_,
vol. viii. pp. 84-87. If this profound writer were now alive what
a war he would wage against our great universities and public
schools, where innumerable things are still taught which no one
is concerned to understand, and which few will take the trouble
to remember. Compare _Condorcet_, _Vie de Turgot_, pp. 255, 256
note.
[406] The statistics of this sort of literature would prove a curious
subject for inquiry. No one, I believe, has thought it worth
while to sum them up; but M. Guizot has made an estimate that the
Bollandist collection contains more than twenty-five thousand
lives of saints; 'à en juger par approximation, ils contiennent
plus de 25,000 vies de saints.' _Guizot_, _Histoire de la
Civilisation en France_, vol. ii. p. 32. It is said (_Ledwich's
Antiquities of Ireland_, p. 62) that of St. Patrick alone, there
were sixty-six biographers before Joceline.
[407] For, as Laplace observes, in his remarks on the sources of error
in connexion with the doctrine of probabilities, 'C'est à
l'influence de l'opinion de ceux que la multitude juge les plus
instruits, et à qui elle a coutume de donner sa confiance sur les
plus importants objets de la vie, qu'est due la propagation de
ces erreurs qui, dans les temps d'ignorance, ont couvert la face
du monde.' _Bouillaud_, _Philosophie Médicale_, p. 218.
[408] M. Guizot (_Civilisation en France_, vol. ii. pp. 171, 172) thinks
that, on the whole, the seventh was even worse than the eighth;
but it is difficult to choose between them.
It is in this way that the nature of the literature possessed by a
people is of very inferior importance, in comparison with the
disposition of the people by whom the literature is to be read. In what
are rightly termed the Dark Ages, there was a literature in which
valuable materials were to be found; but there was no one who knew how
to use them. During a considerable period, the Latin language was a
vernacular dialect;[409] and, if men had chosen, they might have studied
the great Latin authors. But to do this, they must have been in a state
of society very different from that in which they actually lived. They,
like every other people, measured merit by the standard commonly
received in their own age; and, according to their standard, the dross
was better than the gold. They, therefore, rejected the gold, and
hoarded up the dross. What took place then is, on a smaller scale,
taking place now. Every literature contains something that is true, and
much that is false; and the effect it produces will chiefly depend upon
the skill with which the truth is discriminated from the falsehood. New
ideas, and new discoveries, possess prospectively an importance
difficult to exaggerate; but until the ideas are received, and the
discoveries adopted, they exercise no influence, and, therefore, work no
good. No literature can ever benefit a people, unless it finds them in a
state of preliminary preparation. In this respect, the analogy with
religious opinions is complete. If the religion and the literature of a
country are unsuited to its wants, they will be useless, because the
literature will be neglected, and the religion will be disobeyed. In
such cases, even the ablest books are unread, and the purest doctrines
despised. The works fall into oblivion; the faith is corrupted by
heresy.
[409] Some of the results of Latin being colloquially employed by the
monks are judiciously stated in _Herder's Ideen zur Geschichte
der Menschheit_, vol. iv. pp. 202, 203. The remarks on this
custom by Dugald Stewart refer to a later period. _Stewart's
Philosophy of the Mind_, vol. iii. pp. 110, 111.
The other opinion to which I have referred is, that the civilization of
Europe is chiefly owing to the ability which has been displayed by the
different governments, and to the sagacity with which the evils of
society have been palliated by legislative remedies. To any one who has
studied history in its original sources, this notion must appear so
extravagant, as to make it difficult to refute it with becoming gravity.
Indeed, of all the social theories which have ever been broached, there
is none so utterly untenable, and so unsound in all its parts, as this.
In the first place, we have the obvious consideration, that the rulers
of a country have, under ordinary circumstances, always been the
inhabitants of that country; nurtured by its literature, bred to its
traditions, and imbibing its prejudices. Such men are, at best, only the
creatures of the age, never its creators. Their measures are the result
of social progress, not the cause of it. This may be proved, not only by
speculative arguments, but also by a practical consideration, which any
reader of history can verify for himself. No great political
improvement, no great reform, either legislative or executive, has ever
been originated in any country by its rulers. The first suggesters of
such steps have invariably been bold and able thinkers, who discern the
abuse, denounce it, and point out how it is to be remedied. But long
after this is done, even the most enlightened governments continue to
uphold the abuse, and reject the remedy. At length, if circumstances are
favourable, the pressure from without becomes so strong, that the
government is obliged to give way; and, the reform being accomplished,
the people are expected to admire the wisdom of their rulers, by whom
all this has been done. That this is the course of political
improvement, must be well known to whoever has studied the law-books of
different countries in connexion with the previous progress of their
knowledge. Full and decisive evidence of this will be brought forward in
the present work; but, by way of illustration, I may refer to the
abolition of the corn-laws, undoubtedly one of the most remarkable facts
in the history of England during this century. The propriety, and,
indeed, the necessity, of their abolition, is now admitted by every one
of tolerable information; and the question arises, as to how it was
brought about. Those Englishmen who are little versed in the history of
their country will say, that the real cause was the wisdom of
Parliament; while others, attempting to look a little further, will
ascribe it to the activity of the Anti-Corn-Law League, and the
consequent pressure put upon Government. But whoever will minutely trace
the different stages through which this great question successively
passed, will find, that the Government, the Legislature, and the League,
were the unwitting instruments of a power far greater than all other
powers put together. They were simply the exponents of that march of
public opinion, which on this subject had begun nearly a century before
their time. The steps of this vast movement I shall examine on another
occasion; at present it is enough to say, that soon after the middle of
the eighteenth century, the absurdity of protective restrictions on
trade was so fully demonstrated by the political economists, as to be
admitted by every man who understood their arguments, and had mastered
the evidence connected with them. From this moment, the repeal of the
corn-laws became a matter, not of party, nor of expediency, but merely
of knowledge. Those who knew the facts, opposed the laws; those who were
ignorant of the facts, favoured the laws. It was, therefore, clear, that
whenever the diffusion of knowledge reached a certain point, the laws
must fall. The merit of the League was, to assist this diffusion; the
merit of the Parliament was, to yield to it. It is, however, certain,
that the members both of League and Legislature could at best only
slightly hasten what the progress of knowledge rendered inevitable. If
they had lived a century earlier, they would have been altogether
powerless, because the age would not have been ripe for their labours.
They were the creatures of a movement which began long before any of
them were born; and the utmost they could do was, to put into operation
what others had taught, and repeat, in louder tones, the lessons they
had learned from their masters. For, it was not pretended, they did not
even pretend themselves, that there was anything new in the doctrines
which they preached from the hustings, and disseminated in every part of
the kingdom. The discoveries had long since been made, and were
gradually doing their work; encroaching upon old errors, and making
proselytes in all directions. The reformers of our time swam with the
stream: they aided what it would have been impossible long to resist.
Nor is this to be deemed a slight or grudging praise of the services
they undoubtedly rendered. The opposition they had to encounter was
still immense; and it should always be remembered, as a proof of the
backwardness of political knowledge, and of the incompetence of
political legislators, that although the principles of free trade had
been established for nearly a century by a chain of arguments as solid
as those on which the truths of mathematics are based, they were to the
last moment strenuously resisted; and it was only with the greatest
difficulty that Parliament was induced to grant what the people were
determined to have, and the necessity of which had been proved by the
ablest men during three successive generations.
I have selected this instance as an illustration, because the facts
connected with it are undisputed, and, indeed, are fresh in the memory
of us all. For it was not concealed at the time, and posterity ought to
know, that this great measure, which, with the exception of the Reform
Bill, is by far the most important ever passed by a British parliament,
was, like the Reform Bill, extorted from the legislature by a pressure
from without; that it was conceded, not cheerfully, but with fear; and
that it was carried by statesmen who had spent their lives in opposing
what they now suddenly advocated. Such was the history of these events;
and such likewise has been the history of all those improvements which
are important enough to rank as epochs in the history of modern
legislation.
Besides this, there is another circumstance worthy the attention of
those writers who ascribe a large part of European civilization to
measures originated by European governments. This is, that every great
reform which has been effected, has consisted, not in doing something
new, but in undoing something old. The most valuable additions made to
legislation have been enactments destructive of preceding legislation;
and the best laws which have been passed, have been those by which some
former laws were repealed. In the case just mentioned, of the corn-laws,
all that was done was to repeal the old laws, and leave trade to its
natural freedom. When this great reform was accomplished, the only
result was, to place things on the same footing as if legislators had
never interfered at all. Precisely the same remark is applicable to
another leading improvement in modern legislation, namely, the decrease
of religious persecution. This is unquestionably an immense boon;
though, unfortunately, it is still imperfect, even in the most civilized
countries. But it is evident that the concession merely consists in
this: that legislators have retraced their own steps, and undone their
own work. If we examine the policy of the most humane and enlightened
governments, we shall find this to be the course they have pursued. The
whole scope and tendency of modern legislation is, to restore things to
that natural channel from which the ignorance of preceding legislation
has driven them. This is one of the great works of the present age; and
if legislators do it well, they will deserve the gratitude of mankind.
But though we may thus be grateful to individual lawgivers, we owe no
thanks to lawgivers, considered as a class. For since the most valuable
improvements in legislation are those which subvert preceding
legislation, it is clear that the balance of good cannot be on their
side. It is clear, that the progress of civilization cannot be due to
those who, on the most important subjects, have done so much harm, that
their successors are considered benefactors, simply because they reverse
their policy, and thus restore affairs to the state in which they would
have remained, if politicians had allowed them to run on in the course
which the wants of society required.
Indeed, the extent to which the governing classes have interfered, and
the mischiefs which that interference has produced, are so remarkable,
as to make thoughtful men wonder how civilization could advance, in the
face of such repeated obstacles. In some of the European countries, the
obstacles have, in fact, proved insuperable, and the national progress
is thereby stopped. Even in England, where, from causes which I shall
presently relate, the higher ranks have for some centuries been less
powerful than elsewhere, there has been inflicted an amount of evil,
which, though much smaller than that incurred in other countries, is
sufficiently serious to form a melancholy chapter in the history of the
human mind. To sum up these evils would be to write a history of English
legislation; for it may be broadly stated, that, with the exception of
certain necessary enactments respecting the preservation of order, and
the punishment of crime, nearly everything which has been done, has been
done amiss. Thus, to take only such conspicuous facts as do not admit of
controversy, it is certain that all the most important interests have
been grievously damaged by the attempts of legislators to aid them.
Among the accessories of modern civilization, there is none of greater
moment than trade, the spread of which has probably done more than any
other single agent to increase the comfort and happiness of man. But
every European government which has legislated respecting trade, has
acted as if its main object were to suppress the trade, and ruin the
traders. Instead of leaving the national industry to take its own
course, it has been troubled by an interminable series of regulations,
all intended for its good, and all inflicting serious harm. To such a
height has this been carried, that the commercial reforms which have
distinguished England during the last twenty years, have solely
consisted in undoing this mischievous and intrusive legislation. The
laws formerly enacted on this subject, and too many of which are still
in force, are marvellous to contemplate. It is no exaggeration to say,
that the history of the commercial legislation of Europe presents every
possible contrivance for hampering the energies of commerce. Indeed, a
very high authority, who has maturely studied this subject, has recently
declared, that if it had not been for smuggling, trade could not have
been conducted, but must have perished, in consequence of this incessant
interference.[410] However paradoxical this assertion may appear, it
will be denied by no one who knows how feeble trade once was, and how
strong the obstacles were which opposed it. In every quarter, and at
every moment, the hand of government was felt. Duties on importation,
and duties on exportation; bounties to raise up a losing trade, and
taxes to pull down a remunerative one; this branch of industry
forbidden, and that branch of industry encouraged; one article of
commerce must not be grown, because it was grown in the colonies;
another article might be grown and bought, but not sold again, while a
third article might be bought and sold, but not leave the country. Then,
too, we find laws to regulate wages; laws to regulate prices; laws to
regulate profits; laws to regulate the interest of money; custom-house
arrangements of the most vexatious kind, aided by a complicated scheme,
which was well called the sliding-scale,--a scheme of such perverse
ingenuity, that the duties constantly varied on the same article, and no
man could calculate beforehand what he would have to pay. To this
uncertainty, itself the bane of all commerce, there was added a severity
of exaction, felt by every class of consumers and producers. The tolls
were so onerous, as to double and often quadruple the cost of
production. A system was organized, and strictly enforced, of
interference with markets, interference with manufactories, interference
with machinery, interference even with shops. The towns were guarded by
excisemen, and the ports swarmed with tide-waiters, whose sole business
was to inspect nearly every process of domestic industry, peer into
every package, and tax every article; while, that absurdity might be
carried to its extreme height, a large part of all this was by way of
protection: that is to say, the money was avowedly raised, and the
inconvenience suffered, not for the use of the government, but for the
benefit of the people; in other words, the industrious classes were
robbed, in order that industry might thrive.
[410] 'C'est à la contrebande que le commerce doit de n'avoir pas péri
sous l'influence du régime prohibitif; tandis que ce régime
condamnait les peuples à s'approvisionner aux sources les plus
éloignées, la contrebande rapprochait les distances, abaissait
les prix, et neutralisait l'action funeste des monopoles.'
_Blanqui_, _Histoire de l'Economie, Politique en Europe_, Paris,
1845, vol. ii. pp. 25, 26.
Such are some of the benefits which European trade owes to the paternal
care of European legislators. But worse still remains behind. For the
economical evils, great as they were, have been far surpassed by the
moral evils which this system produced. The first inevitable consequence
was, that, in every part of Europe, there arose numerous and powerful
gangs of armed smugglers, who lived by disobeying the laws which their
ignorant rulers had imposed. These men, desperate from the fear of
punishment,[411] and accustomed to the commission of every crime,
contaminated the surrounding population; introduced into peaceful
villages vices formerly unknown; caused the ruin of entire families;
spread, wherever they came, drunkenness, theft, and dissoluteness; and
familiarized their associates with those coarse and swinish debaucheries
which were the natural habits of so vagrant and lawless a life.[412] The
innumerable crimes arising from this,[413] are directly chargeable upon
the European governments by whom they were provoked. The offences were
caused by the laws; and now that the laws are repealed, the offences
have disappeared. But it will hardly be pretended, that the interests of
civilization have been advanced by such a policy as this. It will
hardly be pretended, that we owe much to a system which, having called
into existence a new class of criminals, at length retraces its steps;
and, though it thus puts an end to the crime, only destroys what its own
acts had created.
[411] The 19 Geo. II. c. 34, made 'all forcible acts of smuggling,
carried on in defiance of the laws, or _even in disguise to evade
them_, felony without benefit of clergy.' _Blackstone's
Commentaries_, vol. iv. p. 155. Townsend, who travelled through
France in 1786, says, that when any of the numerous smugglers
were taken, 'some of them are hanged, some are broken upon the
wheel, and some are burnt alive.' _Townsend's Spain_, vol. i. p.
85, edit. 1792. On the general operation of the French laws
against smugglers in the eighteenth century, compare _Tucker's
Life of Jefferson_, vol. i. pp. 213, 214, with _Parliamentary
History_, vol. ix. p. 1240.
[412] In a work of considerable ability, the following account is given
of the state of things in England and France so late as the year
1824: 'While this was going forward on the English coast, the
smugglers on the opposite shore were engaged, with much more
labour, risk, and expense, in introducing English woollens, by a
vast system of fraud and lying, into the towns, past a series of
custom-houses. In both countries, there was an utter
dissoluteness of morals connected with these transactions.
Cheating and lying were essential to the whole system;
drunkenness accompanied it; contempt for all law grew up under
it; honest industry perished beneath it; and it was crowned with
murder.' _Martineau's History of England during Thirty Years'
Peace_, vol. i. p. 341, 8vo. 1849.
[413] For evidence of the extraordinary extent to which smuggling was
formerly carried, and that not secretly, but by powerful bodies
of armed men, see _Parliamentary History_, vol. ix. pp. 243, 247,
1290, 1345, vol. x. pp. 394, 405, 530, 532, vol. xi. p. 935. And
on the number of persons engaged in it, compare _Tomline's Life
of Pitt_, vol. i. p. 359: see also _Sinclair's History of the
Public Revenue_, vol. iii. p. 232; _Otter's Life of Clarke_, vol.
i. p. 391. In France, the evil was equally great. M. Lemontey
says, that early in the eighteenth century, 'la contrebande
devenait une profession ouverte, et des compagnies de cavalerie
désertèrent tout entières leurs étendards pour suivre contre le
fisc cette guerre populaire.' _Lemontey_, _Essai sur
l'Etablissement monarchique de Louis XIV_, p. 430. According to
Townsend, there were, in 1786, 'more than 1500 smugglers in the
Pyrenees.' _Townsend's Journey through Spain_, vol. i. p. 84.
It is unnecessary to say, that these remarks do not affect the real
services rendered to society by every tolerably organized government. In
all countries, a power of punishing crime, and of framing laws, must
reside somewhere; otherwise the nation is in a state of anarchy. But the
accusation which the historian is bound to bring against every
government which has hitherto existed is, that it has overstepped its
proper functions, and, at each step, has done incalculable harm. The
love of exercising power has been found to be so universal, that no
class of men who have possessed authority have been able to avoid
abusing it. To maintain order, to prevent the strong from oppressing the
weak, and to adopt certain precautions respecting the public health, are
the only services which any government can render to the interests of
civilization. That these are services of immense value, no one will
deny; but it cannot be said, that by them civilization is advanced, or
the progress of Man accelerated. All that is done is, to afford the
opportunity of progress; the progress itself must depend upon other
matters. And that this is the sound view of legislation, is, moreover,
evident from the fact, that as knowledge is becoming more diffused, and
as an increasing experience is enabling each successive generation
better to understand the complicated relations of life; just in the same
proportion are men insisting upon the repeal of those protective laws,
the enactment of which was deemed by politicians to be the greatest
triumph of political foresight.
Seeing, therefore, that the efforts of government in favour of
civilization are, when most successful, altogether negative; and seeing
too, that when those efforts are more than negative, they become
injurious,--it clearly follows, that all speculations must be erroneous
which ascribe the progress of Europe to the wisdom of its rulers. This
is an inference which rests not only on the arguments already adduced,
but on facts which might be multiplied from every page of history. For
no government having recognized its proper limits, the result is, that
every government has inflicted on its subjects great injuries; and has
done this nearly always with the best intentions. The effects of its
protective policy in injuring trade, and, what is far worse, in
increasing crime, have just been noticed; and to these instances,
innumerable others might be added. Thus, during many centuries, every
government thought it was its bounden duty to encourage religious truth,
and discourage religious error. The mischief this has produced is
incalculable. Putting aside all other considerations, it is enough to
mention its two leading consequences; which are, the increase of
hypocrisy, and the increase of perjury. The increase of hypocrisy is the
inevitable result of connecting any description of penalty with the
profession of particular opinions. Whatever may be the case with
individuals, it is certain that the majority of men find an extreme
difficulty in long resisting constant temptation. And when the
temptation comes to them in the shape of honour and emolument, they are
too often ready to profess the dominant opinions, and abandon, not
indeed their belief, but the external marks by which that belief is made
public. Every man who takes this step is a hypocrite; and every
government which encourages this step to be taken, is an abettor of
hypocrisy and a creator of hypocrites. Well, therefore, may we say, that
when a government holds out as a bait, that those who profess certain
opinions shall enjoy certain privileges, it plays the part of the
tempter of old, and, like the Evil One, basely offers the good things of
this world to him who will change his worship and deny his faith. At the
same time, and as a part of this system, the increase of perjury has
accompanied the increase of hypocrisy. For legislators, plainly seeing
that proselytes thus obtained could not be relied upon, have met the
danger by the most extraordinary precautions; and compelling men to
confirm their belief by repeated oaths, have thus sought to protect the
old creed against the new converts. It is this suspicion as to the
motives of others, which has given rise to oaths of every kind and in
every direction. In England, even the boy at college is forced to swear
about matters which he cannot understand, and which far riper minds are
unable to master. If he afterwards goes into Parliament, he must again
swear about his religion; and at nearly every stage of political life he
must take fresh oaths; the solemnity of which is often strangely
contrasted with the trivial functions to which they are the prelude. A
solemn adjuration of the Deity being thus made at every turn, it has
happened, as might have been expected, that oaths, enjoined as a matter
of course, have at length degenerated into a matter of form. What is
lightly taken, is easily broken. And the best observers of English
society,--observers too whose characters are very different, and who
hold the most opposite opinions,--are all agreed on this, that the
perjury habitually practised in England, and of which government is the
immediate creator, is so general, that it has become a source of
national corruption, has diminished the value of human testimony, and
shaken the confidence which men naturally place in the word of their
fellow-creatures.[414]
[414] Archbishop Whately says, what hardly any thinking man will now
deny, 'If oaths were abolished--leaving the penalties for false
witness (no unimportant part of our security) unaltered--I am
convinced that, on the whole, testimony would be more trustworthy
than it is.' _Whately's Elements of Rhetoric_, 8vo. 1850, p. 47.
See also on the amount of perjury caused by English legislation,
_Jeremy Bentham's Works_, edit. Bowring, vol. ii. p. 210, vol. v.
pp. 191-229, 454-466, vol. vi. pp. 314, 315; _Orme's Life of
Owen_, p. 195; _Locke's Works_, vol. iv. p. 6; _Berkeley's
Works_, vol. ii. p. 196; _Whiston's Memoirs_, pp. 33, 411-413;
_Hamilton's Discussions on Philosophy and Literature_, pp. 454,
522, 527, 528. Sir W. Hamilton sums up: 'But if the perjury of
England stands pre-eminent in the world, the perjury of the
English Universities, and of Oxford in particular, stands
pre-eminent in England,' p. 528. Compare _Priestley's Memoirs_,
vol. i. p. 374 and _Baker's Life of Sir Thomas Bernard_, 1819,
pp. 188, 189.
The open vices, and, what is much more dangerous, the hidden
corruption, thus generated in the midst of society by the ignorant
interference of Christian rulers, is indeed a painful subject; but it is
one which I could not omit in an analysis of the causes of civilization.
It would be easy to push the inquiry still further, and to show how
legislators, in every attempt they have made to protect some particular
interests, and uphold some particular principles, have not only failed,
but have brought about results diametrically opposite to those which
they proposed. We have seen that their laws in favour of industry have
injured industry; that their laws in favour of religion have increased
hypocrisy; and that their laws to secure truth have encouraged perjury.
Exactly in the same way, nearly every country has taken steps to prevent
usury, and keep down the interest of money; and the invariable effect
has been to increase usury, and raise the interest of money. For, since
no prohibition, however stringent, can destroy the natural relation
between demand and supply, it has followed, that when some men want to
borrow, and other men want to lend, both parties are sure to find means
of evading a law which interferes with their mutual rights.[415] If the
two parties were left to adjust their own bargain undisturbed, the usury
would depend on the circumstances of the loan; such as the amount of
security, and the chance of repayment. But this natural arrangement has
been complicated by the interference of government.[416] A certain risk
being always incurred by those who disobey the law, the usurer, very
properly, refuses to lend his money unless he is also compensated for
the danger he is in from the penalty hanging over him. This compensation
can only be made by the borrower, who is thus obliged to pay what in
reality is a double interest: one interest for the natural risk on the
loan, and another interest for the extra risk from the law. Such, then,
is the position in which every European legislature has placed itself.
By enactments against usury, it has increased what it wished to destroy;
it has passed laws, which the imperative necessities of men compel them
to violate: while, to wind up the whole, the penalty for such violation
falls on the borrowers; that is, on the very class in whose favour the
legislators interfered.[417]
[415] 'L'observation rigoureuse de ces loix seroit destructive de tout
commerce; aussi ne sont-elles pas observées rigoureusement.'
_Mémoire sur les Prêts d'Argent_, sec. xiv., in _[OE]uvres de
Turgot_, vol. v. pp. 278, 279. Compare _Ricardo's Works_, pp.
178, 179, with _Condorcet_, _Vie de Turgot_, pp. 53, 54, 228.
[416] Aided by the church. Ecclesiastical councils contain numerous
regulations against usury; and, in 1179, Pope Alexander ordered
that usurers were not to be buried: 'Quia in omnibus ferè locis
crimen usurarum invaluit; ut multi negotiis prætermissis quasi
licitè usuras exerceant; et qualiter utriusque testamenti pagina
condemnetur, non attendunt: ideò constituimus, ut usurarii
manifesti nec ad communionem recipiantur altaris, nec
Christianam, si in hoc peccato decesserint, accipiant sepulturam,
sed nec oblationem eorum quisquam accipiat.' _Rog. de Hoved.
Annal. in Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores post Bedam_, p. 335, Lond.
1596, folio. In Spain, the Inquisition took cognizance of usury.
See _Llorente_, _Histoire de l'Inquisition_, vol. i. p. 339.
Compare _Ledwich's Antiquities of Ireland_, p. 133.
[417] The whole subject of the usury laws has been treated by Bentham in
so complete and exhaustive a manner, that I cannot do better than
refer the reader to his admirable 'Letters.' A part only of the
question is discussed, and that very imperfectly, in _Rey's
Science Sociale_, vol. iii. pp. 64, 65. On the necessity of usury
to mitigate the effects of a commercial panic, see _Mill's
Principles of Political Economy_, vol. ii. p. 185.
In the same meddling spirit, and with the same mistaken notions of
protection, the great Christian governments have done other things still
more injurious. They have made strenuous and repeated efforts to destroy
the liberty of the press, and prevent men from expressing their
sentiments on the most important questions in politics and religion. In
nearly every country, they, with the aid of the church, have organized a
vast system of literary police; the sole object of which is, to abrogate
the undoubted right of every citizen to lay his opinions before his
fellow-citizens. In the very few countries where they have stopped short
of these extreme steps, they have had recourse to others less violent,
but equally unwarrantable. For even where they have not openly forbidden
the free dissemination of knowledge, they have done all that they could
to check it. On all the implements of knowledge, and on all the means by
which it is diffused, such as paper, books, political journals, and the
like, they have imposed duties so heavy, that they could hardly have
done worse if they had been the sworn advocates of popular ignorance.
Indeed, looking at what they have actually accomplished, it may be
emphatically said, that they have taxed the human mind. They have made
the very thoughts of men pay toll. Whoever wishes to communicate his
ideas to others, and thus do what he can to increase the stock of our
acquirements, must first pour his contributions into the imperial
exchequer. That is the penalty inflicted on him for instructing his
fellow-creatures. That is the blackmail which government extorts from
literature; and on receipt of which it accords its favour, and agrees to
abstain from further demands. And what causes all this to be the more
insufferable, is the use which is made of these and similar exactions,
wrung from every kind of industry, both bodily and mental. It is truly a
frightful consideration, that knowledge is to be hindered, and that the
proceeds of honest labour, of patient thought, and sometimes of profound
genius, are to be diminished, in order that a large part of their scanty
earnings may go to swell the pomp of an idle and ignorant court,
minister to the caprice of a few powerful individuals, and too often
supply them with the means of turning against the people resources which
the people called into existence.
These, and the foregoing statements, respecting the effects produced on
European society by political legislation, are not doubtful or
hypothetical inferences, but are such as every reader of history may
verify for himself. Indeed, some of them are still acting in England;
and, in one country or another, the whole of them may be seen in full
force. When put together, they compose an aggregate so formidable, that
we may well wonder how, in the face of them, civilization has been able
to advance. That, under such circumstances, it has advanced, is a
decisive proof of the extraordinary energy of Man; and justifies a
confident belief, that as the pressure of legislation is diminished,
and the human mind less hampered, the progress will continue with
accelerated speed. But it is absurd, it would be a mockery of all sound
reasoning, to ascribe to legislation any share in the progress; or to
expect any benefit from future legislators, except that sort of benefit
which consists in undoing the work of their predecessors. This is what
the present generation claims at their hands; and it should be
remembered that what one generation solicits as a boon, the next
generation demands as a right. And, when the right is pertinaciously
refused, one of two things has always happened: either the nation has
retrogaded, or else the people have risen. Should the government remain
firm, this is the cruel dilemma in which men are placed. If they submit,
they injure their country; if they rebel, they may injure it still more.
In the ancient monarchies of the East, their usual plan was to yield; in
the monarchies of Europe, it has been to resist. Hence those
insurrections and rebellions which occupy so large a space in modern
history, and which are but repetitions of the old story, the undying
struggle between oppressors and oppressed. It would, however, be unjust
to deny, that in one country the fatal crisis has now for several
generations been successfully averted. In one European country, and in
one alone, the people have been so strong and the government so weak,
that the history of legislation, taken as a whole, is, notwithstanding a
few aberrations, the history of slow, but constant concession: reforms
which would have been refused to argument, have been yielded from fear;
while from the steady increase of democratic opinions, protection after
protection, and privilege after privilege, have, even in our time, been
torn away; until the old institutions, though they retain their former
name, have lost their former vigour, and there no longer remains a doubt
as to what their fate must ultimately be. Nor need we add, that in this
same country, where, more than in any other of Europe, legislators are
the exponents and the servants of the popular will, the progress has, on
this account, been more undeviating than elsewhere; there has been
neither anarchy nor revolution; and the world has been made familiar
with the great truth, that one main condition of the prosperity of a
people is, that its rulers shall have very little power, that they shall
exercise that power very sparingly, and that they shall by no means
presume to raise themselves into supreme judges of the national
interests, or deem themselves authorized to defeat the wishes of those
for whose benefit alone they occupy the post entrusted to them.