DEFINITION OF THE WORD DEGENERACY--ITS CAUSE.
Skeleton history of a nation--Origin of castes, nobility,
etc.--Vitality of nations not necessarily extinguished by
conquest--China, Hindostan--Permanency of their peculiar
civilizations.
If the spirit of the preceding pages has been at all understood, it will
be seen that I am far from considering these great national maladies,
misgovernment, fanaticism, irreligion, and immorality, as mere trifling
accidents, without influence or importance. On the contrary, I sincerely
pity the community which is afflicted by such scourges, and think that
no efforts can be misdirected which tend to mitigate or remove them. But
I repeat, that unless these disorganizing elements are grafted upon
another more destructive principle, unless they are the consequences of
a greater, though concealed, evil; we may rest assured that their
ravages are not fatal, and that society, after a shorter or longer
period of suffering, will escape their toils, perhaps with renewed vigor
and youth.
The examples I have alleged seem to me conclusive; their number, if
necessary, might be increased to any extent. But the conviction has
already gained ground, that these are but secondary evils, to which an
undue importance has hitherto been attached, and that the law which
governs the life and death of societies must be sought for elsewhere,
and deeper. It is admitted that the germ of destruction is inherent in
the constitution of communities; that so long as it remains latent,
exterior dangers are little to be dreaded; but when it has once attained
full growth and maturity, the nation must die, even though surrounded by
the most favorable circumstances, precisely as a jaded steed breaks
down, be the track ever so smooth.
Degeneracy was the name given to this cause of dissolution. This view of
the question was a great step towards the truth, but, unfortunately, it
went no further; the first difficulty proved insurmountable. The term
was certainly correct, etymologically and in every other respect, but
how is it with the definition. A people is said to be degenerated, when
it is badly governed, abuses its riches, is fanatical, or irreligious;
in short, when it has lost the characteristic virtues of its
forefathers. This is begging the question. Thus, communities succumb
under the burden of social and political evils only when they are
degenerate, and they are degenerate only when such evils prevail. This
circular argument proves nothing but the small progress hitherto made in
the science of national biology. I readily admit that nations perish
from degeneracy, and from no other cause; it is when in that wretched
condition, that foreign attacks are fatal to them, for then they no
longer possess the strength to protect themselves against adverse
fortune, or to recover from its blows. They die, because, though exposed
to the same perils as their ancestors, they have not the same powers of
overcoming them. I repeat it, the term _degeneracy_ is correct; but it
is necessary to define it, to give it a real and tangible meaning. It is
necessary to say how and why this vigor, this capacity of overcoming
surrounding dangers, are lost. Hitherto, we have been satisfied with a
mere word, but the thing itself is as little known as ever.[52] The step
beyond, I shall attempt to make.
In my opinion, a nation is degenerate, when the blood of its founders no
longer flows in its veins, but has been gradually deteriorated by
successive foreign admixtures; so that the nation, while retaining its
original name, is no longer composed of the same elements. The
attenuation of the original blood is attended by a modification of the
original instincts, or modes of thinking; the new elements assert their
influence, and when they have once gained perfect and entire
preponderance, the degeneration may be considered as complete. With the
last remnant of the original ethnical principle, expires the life of the
society and its civilization. The masses, which composed it, have
thenceforth no separate, independent, social and political existence;
they are attracted to different centres of civilization, and swell the
ranks of new societies having new instincts and new purposes.
In attempting to establish this theorem, I am met by a question which
involves the solution of a far more difficult problem than any I have
yet approached. This question, so momentous in its bearings, is the
following:--
Is there, in reality, a serious and palpable difference in the capacity
and intrinsic worth of different branches of the human family?
For the sake of clearness, I shall advance, _à priori_, that this
difference exists. It then remains to show how the ethnical character of
a nation can undergo such a total change as I designate by the term
_degeneracy_.
Physiologists assert that the human frame is subject to a constant wear
and tear, which would soon destroy the whole machine, but for new
particles which are continually taking the form and place of the old
ones. So rapid is this change said to be, that, in a few years, the
whole framework is renovated, and the material identity of the
individual changed. The same, to a great extent, may be said of nations,
only that, while the individual always preserves a certain similarity
of form and features, those of a nation are subject to innumerable and
ever-varying changes. Let us take a nation at the moment when it assumes
a political existence, and commences to play a part in the great drama
of the world's stage. In its embryo, we call it a tribe.
The simplest and most natural political institution is that of tribes.
It is the only form of government known to rude and savage nations.
Civilization is the result of a great concentration of powerful physical
and intellectual forces,[53] which, in small and scattered fragments, is
impossible. The first step towards it is, therefore, undoubtedly, the
union of several tribes by alliance or conquest. Such a coalescence is
what we call a nation or empire. I think it admits of an easy
demonstration, that in proportion as a human family is endowed with the
capacity for intellectual progress, it exhibits a tendency to enlarge
the circle of its influence and dominion. On the contrary, where that
capacity is weak, or wanting, we find the population subdivided into
innumerable small fragments, which, though in perpetual collision,
remain forever detached and isolated. The stronger may massacre the
weaker, but permanent conquest is never attempted; depredatory
incursions are the sole object and whole extent of warfare. This is the
case with the natives of Polynesia, many parts of Africa, and the Arctic
regions. Nor can their stagnant condition be ascribed to local or
climatical causes. We have seen such wretched hordes inhabiting,
indifferently, temperate as well as torrid or frigid zones; fertile
prairies and barren deserts; river-shores and coasts as well as inland
regions. It must therefore be founded upon an inherent incapacity of
progress. The more civilizable a race is, the stronger is the tendency
for aggregation of masses. Complex political organizations are not so
much the effect as the cause of civilization.[54] A tribe with superior
intellectual and physical endowments, soon perceives that, to increase
its power and prosperity, it must compel its neighbors to enter into the
sphere of its influence. Where peaceful means fail, war is resorted to.
Territories are conquered, a division into classes established between
the victorious and the subjugated race; in one word, a nation has made
its appearance upon the theatre of history. The impulse being once
given, it will not stop short in the career of conquest. If wisdom and
moderation preside in its councils, the tracks of its armies will not be
marked by wanton destruction and bloodshed; the monuments, institutions,
and manners of the conquered will be respected; superior creations will
take the place of the old, where changes are necessary and useful;--a
great empire will be formed.[55] At first, and perhaps for a long time,
victors and vanquished will remain separated and distinct. But
gradually, as the pride of the conqueror becomes less obtrusive, and the
bitterness of defeat is forgotten by the conquered; as the ties of
common interest become stronger, the boundary line between them is
obliterated. Policy, fear, or natural justice, prompts the masters to
concessions; intermarriages take place, and, in the course of time, the
various ethnical elements are blended, and the different nations
composing the state begin to consider themselves as one. This is the
general history of the rise of all empires whose records have been
transmitted to us.[56] An inferior race, by falling into the hands of
vigorous masters, is thus called to share a destiny, of which, alone, it
would have been incapable. Witness the Saxons by the Norman
conquest.[57] But, if there is a decided disparity in the capacity of
the two races, their mixture, while it ennobles the baser, deteriorates
the nobler; a new race springs up, inferior to the one, though superior
to the other, and, perhaps, possessed of peculiar qualities unknown to
either. The modification of the ethnical character of the nation,
however, does not terminate here.
Every new acquisition of territory, by conquest or treaty, brings an
addition of foreign blood. The wealth and splendor of a great empire
attract crowds of strangers to its capital, great inland cities, or
seaports. Apart from the fact that the conquering race--that which
founds the empire, and supports and animates it--is, in most cases,
inferior in numbers to the masses which it subdued and assimilated; the
conspicuous part which it takes in the affairs of the state, renders it
more directly exposed to the fatal results of battles, proscriptions,
and revolts.[58] In some instances, also, it happens that the
substratum of native populations are singularly prolific--witness the
Celts and Sclaves. Sooner or later, therefore, the conquering race is
absorbed by the masses which its vigor and superiority have aggregated.
The very materials of which it erected its splendor, and upon which it
based its strength, are ultimately the means of its weakness and
destruction. But the civilization which it has developed, may survive
for a limited period. The forward impulse, once imparted to the mass,
will still propel it for a while, but its force is continually
decreasing. Manners, laws, and institutions remain, but the spirit
which animated them has fled; the lifeless body still exhibits the
apparent symptoms of life, and, perhaps, even increases, but the real
strength has departed; the edifice soon begins to totter, at the
slightest collision it will crumble, and bury beneath its ruins the
civilization which it had developed.
If this definition of degeneracy be accepted, and its consequences
admitted, the problem of the rise and fall of empires no longer presents
any difficulty. A nation lives so long as it preserves the ethnical
principle to which it owes its existence; with this principle, it loses
the _primum mobile_ of its successes, its glory, and its civilization:
it must therefore disappear from the stage of history. Who can doubt
that if Alexander had been opposed by real Persians, the men of the
Arian stock, whom Cyrus led to victory, the issue of the battle of
Arbela would have been very different. Or if Rome, in her decadence, had
possessed soldiers and senators like those of the time of Fabius,
Scipio, and Cato, would she have fallen so easy a prey to the barbarians
of the North?
It will be objected that, even had the integrity of the original blood
remained intact, a time must have come when they would find their
masters. They would have succumbed under a series of well-combined
attacks, a long-continued overwhelming pressure, or simply by the
chances of a lost battle. The political edifice might have been
destroyed in this manner, not the civilization, not the social
organization. Invasion and defeat would have been reverses, sad ones,
indeed, but not irremediable. There is no want of facts to confirm this
assertion.
In modern times, the Chinese have suffered two complete conquests. In
each case they have imposed their manners and their institutions upon
the conquerors; they have given them much, and received but little in
return. The first invaders, after having undergone this change, were
expelled; the same fate is now threatening the second.[59] In this case
the vanquished were intellectually and numerically superior to their
victors. I shall mention another case where the victors, though
intellectually superior, are not possessed of sufficient numerical
strength to transform the intellectual and moral character of the
vanquished.
The political supremacy of the British in Hindostan is perfect, yet they
exert little or no moral influence over the masses they govern. All that
the utmost exertion of their power can effect upon the fears of their
subjects, is an outward compliance. The notions of the Hindoo cannot be
replaced by European ideas--the spirit of Hindoo civilization cannot be
conquered by any power, however great, of the law. Political forms may
change, and do change, without materially affecting the basis upon which
they rest; Hyderabad, Lahore, and Delhi may cease to be capitals: Hindoo
society will subsist, nevertheless. A time must come, sooner or later,
when India will regain a separate political existence, and publicly
proclaim those laws of her own, which she now secretly obeys, or of
which she is tacitly left in possession.
The mere accident of conquest cannot destroy the principle of vitality
in a people. At most, it may suspend for a time the exterior
manifestations of that vitality, and strip it of its outward honors. But
so long as the blood, and consequently the culture of a nation, exhibit
sufficiently strong traces of the initiatory race, that nation exists;
and whether it has to deal, like the Chinese, with conquerors who are
superior only materially; or whether, like the Hindoos, it maintains a
struggle of patience against a race much superior in every respect; that
nation may rest assured of its future--independence will dawn for it one
day. On the contrary, when a nation has completely exhausted the
initiatory ethnical element, defeat is certain death; it has consumed
the term of existence which Heaven had granted it--its destiny is
fulfilled.[60]
I, therefore, consider the question as settled, which has been so often
discussed, as to what would have been the result, if the Carthaginians,
instead of succumbing to the fortune of Rome, had conquered Italy. As
they belonged to the Phenician family, a stock greatly inferior to the
Italian in political capacity, they would have been absorbed by the
superior race after the victory, precisely as they were after the
defeat. The final result, therefore, would have been the same in either
case.
The destiny of civilizations is not ruled by accident; it depends not on
the issue of a battle, a thrust of a sword, the favors or frowns of
fickle fortune. The most warlike, formidable, and triumphant nations,
when they were distinguished for nothing but bravery, strategical
science, and military successes, have never had a nobler fate than that
of learning from their subjects, perhaps too late, the art of living in
peace. The Celts, the nomad hordes of Central Asia, are memorable
illustrations of this truth.
The whole of my demonstration now rests upon one hypothesis, the proof
of which I have reserved for the succeeding chapters: THE MORAL AND
INTELLECTUAL DIVERSITIES OF THE VARIOUS BRANCHES OF THE HUMAN FAMILY.
FOOTNOTES:
[52] The author has neglected to advert to one very clear explanation of
this word, which, from its extensive popularity, seems to me to deserve
some notice. It is said, and very commonly believed, that there is a
physical degeneracy in mankind; that a nation cultivating for a long
time the arts of peace, and enjoying the fruits of well-directed
industry, loses the capacity for warfare; in other words becomes
effeminate, and, consequently, less capable of defending itself against
ruder, and, therefore, more warlike invaders. It is further said, though
with less plausibility, that there is a general degeneracy of the human
race--that we are inferior in physical strength to our ancestors, etc.
If this theory could be supported by incontestable facts--and there are
many who think it possible--it would give to the term degeneracy that
real and tangible meaning which the author alleges to be wanting. But a
slight investigation will demonstrate that it is more specious than
correct.
In the first place, to prove that an advance in civilization does not
lessen the material puissance of a nation, but rather increases it, we
may point to the well-known fact that the most civilized nations are the
most formidable opponents in warfare, because they have brought the
means of attack and defence to the greatest perfection.
But that for this strength they are not solely indebted to artificial
means, is proved by the history of modern civilized states. The French
now fight with as much martial ardor and intrepidity, and with more
success than they did in the times of Francis I. or Louis XIV., albeit
they have since both these epochs made considerable progress in
civilization, and this progress has been most perceptible in those
classes which form the bulk and body of armies. England, though,
perhaps, she could not muster an army as large as in former times, has
hearts as stout, and arms as strong as those that gained for her
imperishable glory at Agincourt and Poitiers. The charge at Balaklava,
rash and useless as it may be termed, was worthy of the followers of the
Black Prince.
A theory to be correct, must admit of mathematical demonstration. The
most civilized nations, then, would be the most effeminate; the most
barbarous, the most warlike. And, descending from nations to
individuals, the most cultivated and refined mind would be accompanied
by a deficiency in many of the manly virtues. Such an assertion is
ridiculous. The most refined and fastidious gentleman has never, as a
class, displayed less courage and fortitude than the rowdy and fighter
by profession. Men sprung from the bosom of the most polished circles in
the most civilized communities, have surpassed the most warlike
barbarians in deeds of hardihood and heroic valor.
Civilization, therefore, produces no degeneracy; the cultivation of the
arts of peace, no diminution of manly virtues. We have seen the peaceful
burghers of free cities successfully resist the trained bands of a
superior foe; we have seen the artisans and merchants of Holland
invincible to the veteran armies of the then most powerful prince of
Christendom, backed as he was by the inexhaustible treasures of a newly
discovered hemisphere; we have seen, in our times, troops composed of
volunteers who left their hearthstones to fight for their country, rout
incredible odds of the standing armies of a foe, who, for the last
thirty years, has known no peace.
I believe that an advanced state of civilization, accompanied by long
peace, gives rise to a certain _domestication_ of man, that is to say,
it lays on a polish over the more ferocious or pugnacious tendencies of
his nature; because it, in some measure deprives him of the
opportunities of exercising them, but it cannot deprive him of the
power, should the opportunity present itself. Let us suppose two
brothers born in some of our great commercial cities, one to enter a
counting-house, the other to settle in the western wilderness. The
former might become a polished, elegant, perhaps even dandified young
gentleman; the other might evince a supreme contempt for all the
amenities of life, be ever ready to draw his bowie-knife or revolver,
however slight the provocation. The country requires the services of
both; a great principle is at stake, and in some battle of Matamoras or
Buena Vista, the two brothers fight side by side; who will be the
braver?
I believe that both individual and national character admit of a certain
degree of pressure by surrounding circumstances; the pressure removed,
the character at once regains its original form. See with what
kindliness the civilized descendant of the wild Teuton hunter takes to
the hunter's life in new countries, and how soon he learns to despise
the comforts of civilized life and fix his abode in the solitary
wilderness. The Normans had been settled over six centuries in the
beautiful province of France, to which they gave their name; their
nobles had frequented the most polished court in Europe, adapted
themselves to the fashions and requirements of life in a luxurious
metropolis; they themselves had learned to plough the soil instead of
the wave; yet in another hemisphere they at once regained their ancient
habits, and--as six hundred years before--became the most dreaded
pirates of the seas they infested; the savage buccaneers of the Spanish
main. I can see no difference between Lolonnois and his followers, and
the terrible men of the north (his lineal ancestors) that ravaged the
shores of the Seine and the Rhine, and whose name is even yet mentioned
with horror every evening, in the other hemisphere, by thousands of
praying children: "God preserve us from the Northmen." Morgan, the Welch
buccaneer, who, with a thousand men, vanquished five times as many
well-equipped Spaniards, took their principal cities, Porto Bello and
Panama; who tortured his captives to make them reveal the hiding-place
of their treasure; Morgan might have been--sixteen centuries
notwithstanding--a tributary chief to Caractacus, or one of those who
opposed Cæsar's landing in Britain. To make the resemblance still more
complete, the laws and regulations of these lawless bands were a precise
copy of those to which their not more savage ancestors bound themselves.
I regret that my limited space precludes me from entering into a more
elaborate exposition of the futility of the theory that civilization, or
a long continued state of peace, can produce physical degeneracy or
inaptitude for the ruder duties of the battle-field; but I believe that
what I have said will suffice to suggest to the thoughtful reader
numerous confirmations of my position; and I may, therefore, now refer
him to Mr. Gobineau's explanation of the term degeneracy.--H.
[53] "Nothing but the great number of citizens in a state can occasion
the flourishing of the arts and sciences. Accordingly, we see that, in
all ages, it was great empires only which enjoyed this advantage. In
these great states, the arts, especially that of agriculture, were soon
brought to great perfection, and thus that leisure afforded to a
considerable number of men, which is so necessary to study and
speculation. The Babylonians, Assyrians, and Egyptians, had the
advantage of being formed into regular, well-constituted
states."--_Origin of Laws and Sciences, and their Progress among the
most Ancient Nations._ By President DE GOGUET. Edinburgh, 1761, vol. i.
pp. 272-273.--H.
[54] "Conquests, by uniting many nations under one sovereign, have
formed great and powerful empires, out of the ruins of many petty
states. In these great empires, men began insensibly to form clearer
views of politics, juster and more salutary notions of government.
Experience taught them to avoid the errors which had occasioned the ruin
of the nations whom they had subdued, and put them upon taking measures
to prevent surprises, invasions, and the like misfortunes. With these
views they fortified cities, secured such passes as might have admitted
an enemy into their country, and kept a certain number of troops
constantly on foot. By these precautions, several States rendered
themselves formidable to their neighbors, and none durst lightly attack
powers which were every way so respectable. The interior parts of such
mighty monarchies were no longer exposed to ravages and devastations.
War was driven far from the centre, and only infected the frontiers. The
inhabitants of the country, and of the cities, began to breathe in
safety. The calamities which conquests and revolutions had occasioned,
disappeared; but the blessings which had grown out of them, remained.
Ingenious and active spirits, encouraged by the repose which they
enjoyed, devoted themselves to study. _It was in the bosom of great
empires the arts were invented, and the sciences had their
birth._"--_Op. cit._, vol. i. Book 5, p. 326.--H.
[55] The history of every great empire proves the correctness of this
remark. The conqueror never attempted to change the manners or local
institutions of the peoples subdued, but contented himself with an
acknowledgment of his supremacy, the payment of tribute, and the
rendering of assistance in war. Those who have pursued a contrary
course, may be likened to an overflowing river, which, though it leaves
temporary marks of its destructive course behind, must, sooner or later,
return to its bed, and, in a short time, its invasions are forgotten,
and their traces obliterated.--H.
[56] The most striking illustration of the correctness of this
reasoning, is found in Roman history, the earlier portion of which
is--thanks to Niebuhr's genius--just beginning to be understood. The
lawless followers of Romulus first coalesced with the Sabines; the two
nations united, then compelled the Albans to raze their city to the
ground, and settle in Rome. Next came the Latins, to whom, also, a
portion of the city was allotted for settlement. These two conquered
nations were, of course, not permitted the same civil and political
privileges as the conquerors, and, with the exception of a few noble
families among them (which probably had been, from the beginning, in the
interests of the conquerors), these tribes formed the _plebs_. The
distinction by nations was forgotten, and had become a distinction of
_classes_. Then began the progress which Mr. Gobineau describes. The
Plebeians first gained their _tribunes_, who could protect their
interests against the one-sided legislation of the dominant class; then,
the right of discussing and deciding certain public questions in the
_comitia_, or public assembly. Next, the law prohibiting intermarriage
between the Patricians and Plebeians was repealed; and thus, in course
of time, the government changed from an oligarchical to a democratic
form. I might go into details, or, I might mention other nations in
which the same process is equally manifest, but I think the above
well-known facts sufficient to bring the author's idea into a clear
light, and illustrate its correctness. The history of the Middle Ages,
the establishment of serfdom and its gradual abolition, also furnish an
analogue.
Wherever we see an hereditary aristocracy (whether called class or
caste), it will be found to originate in a race, which, if no longer
_dominant_, was once conqueror. Before the Norman conquest, the English
aristocracy was _Saxon_, there were no nobles of the ancient British
blood, east of Wales; after the conquest, the aristocracy was _Norman_,
and nine-tenths of the noble families of England to this day trace, or
pretend to trace, their origin to that stock. The noble French families,
anterior to the Revolution, were almost all of _Frankish_ or
_Burgundian_ origin. The same observation applies everywhere else. In
support of my opinion, I have Niebuhr's great authority: "Wherever there
are castes, they are the consequence of foreign conquest and
subjugation; it is impossible for a nation to submit to such a system,
unless it be compelled by the calamities of a conquest. By this means
only it is, that, contrary to the will of a people, circumstances arise
which afterwards assume the character of a division into classes or
castes."--_Lect. on Anc. Hist._ (In the English translation, this
passage occurs in vol. i. p. 90.)
In conclusion, I would observe that, whenever it becomes politic to
flatter the mass of the people, the fact of conquest is denied. Thus,
English writers labored hard to prove that William the Norman did not,
in reality, conquer the Saxons. Some time before the French Revolution,
the same was attempted to be proved in the case of the Germanic tribes
in France. L'Abbé du Bos, and other writers, taxed their ingenuity to
disguise an obvious fact, and to hide the truth under a pile of
ponderous volumes.--H.
[57] "It has been a favorite thesis with many writers, to pretend that
the Saxon government was, at the time of the conquest, by no means
subverted; that William of Normandy legally acceded to the throne, and,
consequently, to the engagements of the Saxon kings.... But, if we
consider that the manner in which the public power is formed in a state,
is so very essential a part of its government, and that a thorough
change in this respect was introduced into England by the conquest, we
shall not scruple to allow that a _new government_ was established. Nay,
as almost the whole landed property in the kingdom was, at that time,
transferred to other hands, a new system of criminal justice introduced,
and the language of the law moreover altered, the revolution may be said
to have been such as is not, perhaps, to be paralleled in the history of
any other country."--DE LOLME'S _English Constitution_, c. i., _note_
c.--"The battle of Hastings, and the events which followed it, not only
placed a Duke of Normandy on the English throne, but gave up the whole
population of England to the tyranny of the Norman race. The subjugation
of a nation has seldom, even in Asia, been more complete."--MACAULAY'S
_History of England_, vol. i. p. 10.--H.
[58] This assertion seems self-evident; it may, however, be not
altogether irrelevant to the subject, to direct attention to a few facts
in illustration of it. Great national calamities like wars,
proscriptions, and revolutions, are like thunderbolts, striking mostly
the objects of greatest elevation. We have seen that a conquering race
generally, for a long time even after the conquest has been forgotten,
forms an aristocracy, which generally monopolizes the prominent
positions. In great political convulsions, this aristocracy suffers
most, often in numbers, and always in proportion. Thus, at the battle of
Cannæ, from 5,000 to 6,000 Roman knights are said to have been slain,
and, at all times, the officer's dress has furnished the most
conspicuous, and at the same time the most important target for the
death-dealing stroke. In those fearful proscriptions, in which Sylla and
Marius vied with each other in wholesale slaughter, the number of
victims included two hundred senators and thirty-three ex-consuls. That
the major part of the rest were prominent men, and therefore patricians,
is obvious from the nature of this persecution. Revolutions are most
often, though not always, produced by a fermentation among the mass of
the population, who have a heavy score to settle against a class that
has domineered and tyrannized over them. Their fury, therefore, is
directed against this aristocracy. I have now before me a curious
document (first published in the _Prussian State-Gazette_, in
1828, and for which I am indebted to a little German volume, _Das
Menschengeschlecht auf seinem Gegenwärtigen Standpuncte_, by
SMIDT-PHISELDECK), giving a list of the victims that fell under the
guillotine by sentence of the revolutionary tribunal, from August, 1792,
to the 27th of July, 1794, in a little less than two years. The number
of victims there given is 2,774. Of these, 941 are of rank unknown. The
remaining 1,833 may be divided in the following proportions:--
1,084 highest nobility (princes, dukes, marshals of France, generals,
and other officers, etc. etc.)
636 of the gentry (members of Parliament, judges, etc. etc.)
113 of the bourgeoisie (including non-commissioned officers and
soldiers.)
-----
1,833
Such facts require no comments.--H.
[59] The recent insurrection in China has given rise to a great deal of
speculation, and various are the opinions that have been formed
respecting it. But it is now pretty generally conceded that it is a
great national movement, and, therefore, must ultimately be successful.
The history of this insurrection, by Mr. Callery and Dr. Ivan (one the
interpreter, and the other the physician of the French embassy in China,
and both well known and reliable authorities) leaves no doubt upon the
subject. One of the most significant signs in this movement is the
cutting off the tails, and letting the hair grow, which is being
practised, says Dr. Ivan, in all the great cities, and in the very teeth
of the mandarins. (_Ins. in China_, p. 243.) Let not the reader smile at
this seemingly puerile demonstration, or underrate its importance.
Apparently trivial occurrences are often the harbingers of the most
important events. Were I to see in the streets of Berlin or Vienna, men
with long beards or hats of a certain shape, I should know that serious
troubles are to be expected; and in proportion to the number of such
men, I should consider the catastrophe more or less near at hand, and
the monarch's crown in danger. When the Lombard stops smoking in the
streets, he meditates a revolution; and France is comparatively safe,
even though every street in Paris is barricaded, and blood flows in
torrents; but when bands march through the streets singing the _ça ira_,
we know that to-morrow the _Red Republic_ will be proclaimed. All these
are silent, but expressive demonstrations of the prevalence of a certain
principle among the masses. Such a one is the cutting off of the tail
among the Chinese. Nor is this a mere emblem. The shaved crown and the
tail are the brands of conquest, a mark of degradation imposed by the
Mantchoos on the subjugated race. The Chinese have never abandoned the
hope of one day expelling their conquerors, as they did already once
before. "Ever since the fall of the Mings," says Dr. Ivan, "and the
accession of the Mantchoo dynasty, clandestine associations--these
intellectual laboratories of declining states--have been incessantly in
operation. The most celebrated of these secret societies, that of the
Triad, or the _three principles_, commands so extensive and powerful an
organization, that its members may be found throughout China, and
wherever the Chinese emigrate; so that there is no great exaggeration in
the Chinese saying: 'When three of us are together, the Triad is among
us.'" (_Hist. of the Insur. in Ch._, p. 112.) Again, the writer says:
"The revolutionary impetus is now so strong, the affairs of the
pretender or chief of the insurrection in so prosperous a condition,
that the success of his cause has nothing to fear from the loss of a
battle. It would require a series of unprecedented reverses to ruin his
hopes" (p. 243 and 245).
I have written this somewhat lengthy note to show that Mr. Gobineau
makes no rash assertion, when he says that the Mantchoos are about to
experience the same fate as their Tartar predecessors.--H.
[60] The author might have mentioned Russia in illustration of his
position. The star of no nation that we are acquainted with has suffered
an eclipse so total and so protracted, nor re-appeared with so much
brilliancy. Russia, whose history so many believe to date from the time
of Peter the Great only, was one of the earliest actors on the stage of
modern history. Its people had adopted Christianity when our forefathers
were yet heathens; its princes formed matrimonial alliances with the
monarchs of Byzantine Rome, while Charlemagne was driving the reluctant
Saxon barbarians by thousands into rivers to be baptized _en masse_.
Russia had magnificent cities before Paris was more than a collection of
hovels on a small island of the Seine. Its monarchs actually
contemplated, and not without well-founded hopes, the conquest of
Constantinople, while the Norman barges were devastating the coasts and
river-shores of Western Europe. Nay, to that far-off, almost polar
region, the enterprise of the inhabitants had attracted the genius of
commerce and its attendants, prosperity and abundance. One of the
greatest commercial cities of the first centuries after Christ, one of
the first of the Hanse-Towns, was the great city of Novogorod, the
capital of a republic that furnished three hundred thousand fighting
men. But the east of Europe was not destined to outstrip the west in the
great race of progress. The millions of Tartars, that, locust-like--but
more formidable--marked their progress by hopeless devastation, had
converted the greater portion of Asia into a desert, and now sought a
new field for their savage exploits. Russia stood the first brunt, and
its conquest exhausted the strength of the ruthless foe, and saved
Western Europe from overwhelming ruin. In the beginning of the
thirteenth century, five hundred thousand Tartar horsemen crossed the
Ural Mountains. Slow, but gradual, was their progress. The Russian
armies were trampled down by this countless cavalry. But the resistance
must have been a brave and vigorous one, for few of the invaders lived
long enough to see the conquest. Not until after a desperate struggle of
fifty years, did Russia acknowledge a Tartar master. Nor were the
conquerors even then allowed to enjoy their prize in peace. For two
centuries more, the Russians never remitted their efforts to regain
their independence. Each generation transmitted to its posterity the
remembrance of that precious treasure, and the care of reconquering it.
Nor were their efforts unsuccessful. Year after year the Tartars saw the
prize gliding from their grasp, and towards the end of the fifteenth
century, we find them driven to the banks of the Volga, and the coasts
of the Black Sea. Russia now began to breathe again. But, lo! during the
long struggle, Pole and Swede had vied with the Tartar in stripping her
of her fairest domains. Her territory extended scarce two hundred miles,
in any direction from Moscow. Her very name was unknown. Western Europe
had forgotten her. The same causes that established the feudal system
there, had, in the course of two centuries and a half, changed a nation
of freemen into a nation of serfs. The arts of peace were lost, the
military element had gained an undue preponderance, and a band of
soldiers, like the Pretorian Guards of Rome, made and deposed
sovereigns, and shook the state to its very foundations. Yet here and
there a vigorous monarch appeared, who controlled the fierce element,
and directed it to the weal of the state. Smolensk, the fairest portion
of the ancient Russian domain, was re-conquered from the Pole. The
Swede, also, was forced to disgorge a portion of his spoils. But it was
reserved for Peter the Great and his successors to restore to Russia the
rank she had once held, and to which she was entitled.
I will not further trespass on the patience of the reader, now that we
have arrived at that portion of Russian history which many think the
first. I would merely observe that not only did Peter add to his empire
no territory that had not formerly belonged to it, but even Catharine,
at the first partition of Poland (I speak not of the subsequent ones),
merely re-united to her dominion what once were integral portions. The
rapid growth of Russia, since she has reassumed her station among the
nations of the earth, is well known. Cities have sprung up in places
where once the nomad had pitched his tent. A great capital, the
handsomest in the world, has risen from the marsh, within one hundred
and fifty years after the founder, whose name it perpetuates, had laid
the first stone. Another has risen from the ashes, within less than a
decade of years from the time when--a holocaust on the altar of
patriotism--its flames announced to the world the vengeance of a nation
on an intemperate aggressor.
Truly, it seems to me, that Mr. Gobineau could not have chosen a better
illustration of his position, that the mere accident of conquest can not
annihilate a nation, than this great empire, in whose history conquest
forms so terrible and so long an episode, that the portion anterior to
it is almost forgotten to this day.--H.