faculty of determining between the divine impulse and the suggestions
of the spirit of evil, there would be no history, and without a faith
in such a principle, there could be no Philosophy of History. If
free-will were a mere psychological illusion; if consequently man were
incapable of sentiment or deliberate action; if all in life were
predetermined by necessity, and subject, like nature, to a blind,
immutable destiny; in that case, what we call history, or the
description of mankind, would merely constitute a branch of natural
science. But such notions are utterly repugnant to the general belief
and the most intimate feelings of mankind, according to which, it is
precisely the conflict between the good or divine principle on the one
hand, and the evil or adverse principle on the other, which forms the
purport of human life and human history, from the beginning to the end
of time. Without the idea of a God-head regulating the course of human
destiny, of an all-ruling Providence, and the saving and redeeming
power of God; the history of the world would be a labyrinth without an
outlet--a confused pile of ages buried upon ages--a mighty tragedy
without a right beginning, or a proper ending; and this melancholy and
tragical impression is produced on our minds by several of the great
ancient historians, particularly the profoundest of them
all,--Tacitus, who towards the close of antiquity, glances so dark a
retrospect upon the past.
But the greatest historical mystery--the deepest and most complicated
enigma of the world, is the permission of evil on the part of God,
which can find its explanation and solution only in the unfettered
freedom of man, in the destination of the latter for a state of
struggle, exposed to the influences of two contending powers, and
which commences with the first earthly mission of Adam. This is
nothing else but the real and entire exercise,--the divinely ordained
trial of the faculty of freedom, imparted to the firstling of the new
creation,--the image of God, in the conflict and the victory over
temptation, and all hostile spirits. That man only who recognizes the
permission of God given to evil in its at first inconceivably wide
extent--the whole magnitude of the power permitted to the wicked
principle, according to the inscrutable decrees of God, from the curse
of Cain--and the sign of that curse--its unimpeded transmission
through all the labyrinths of error, and truth grossly disfigured--through
all the false religions of Heathenism,--all the ages of extreme moral
corruption, and eternally repeated, and ever increasing crime, down to
the period when the anti-christian principle--the spirit of evil shall
usurp entire dominion of the world; when mankind sufficiently
prepared, shall be summoned to the last decisive trial--the last great
conflict with the enemy in all the fulness of his power:--that man
only we say, is capable of understanding the great phenomena of
universal history in their often strange and dark complexity, as far
at least as human eye can penetrate into those hidden and mysterious
ways of Providence. But he who regards every thing in humanity, and
the progress of humanity, in a mere natural or rationalist point of
view, and will explain everything by such views; who though perhaps
not without a certain instinctive feeling of an all-ruling
Providence--a certain pious deference for its secret ways and high
designs, yet is devoid of a full knowledge of, and deep insight into,
the conduct of Providence--he to whom the power of evil is not clear,
evident, and fully intelligible; he will ever rest on the surface of
events and historical facts, and satisfied with the outward appearance
of things, neither comprehend the meaning of the whole, nor understand
the import of any part. But the matter of greatest moment is to watch
the Spirit of God, revealing itself in history, enlightening and
directing the judgments of men, saving and conducting mankind, and
even here below admonishing, judging and chastising nations and
generations; to watch this Spirit in its progress through all ages,
and discern the fiery marks and traces of its footsteps. This
three-fold law of the world--these three mighty principles in the
historical progress of mankind--the hidden ways of a Providence
delivering and emancipating the human race--next the free-will of man,
doomed to a decisive choice in the struggle of life, and every action
and sentiment springing from that freedom--lastly the power permitted
by God to the evil principle, cannot be deduced as things absolutely
necessary, like the phenomena of nature, or the laws of human reason.
Such a general deduction would by no means answer the object intended;
but it is in the characteristic marks of particular events and
historical facts, that the visible traces of invisible power and
design, or of high and hidden wisdom must be sought for. And hence the
Philosophy of History is not a theory standing apart and separated
from history--but its results must be drawn out of the multitude of
historical facts--from the faithful records of ages, and must spring
up, as it were, of themselves, from bare observation. And here an
unprejudiced mind will discern the motive, and also, the justification
of the course we have pursued; for in the Philosophy of History, we
have not to do with any system--any series of abstract notions,
positions, and conclusions, as in the construction of a mere
theory--but with the general principles only of historical
investigation and historical judgment.
In the multitude, however, of historical phenomena, all things,
especially in times of great party-conflicts, are of a mixed nature,
where in the selection of characteristic traits, we should rather
avoid than seek for any rude and violent contrasts. For while on the
one hand, in any great historical contest, we are bound to recognize
the full justice of the true cause, yet on the other, we shall often
find some flaw--some stain--some weak point connected with that
cause--not inherent in the cause itself, but chargeable solely on
human infirmity. Or when we must condemn the Revolution of any period,
as pernicious in its general relations, and reprehensible in itself,
we shall often see some motive lie concealed in its origin--in its
first proceedings, which taken in itself, and abstractedly of
subsequent errors, and the false consequences thence deduced,
comprises some important indications of right--some lofty aspirations
after truth. Every general assertion must be restricted by exceptions,
and qualified by various modifications; and as in historical events,
so in historical narration and speculation, nothing is so hurtful and
unprofitable as an absolute mode of reflection, enquiry, and decision.
This remark we may apply by anticipation to the whole period of latter
ages, and as inculcating the necessity of that conciliatory spirit,
which true philosophy cannot fail of adopting for its rule. It is only
when we have gone very deeply into the varied and complex nature of
the circumstances of any age, and examined in their manifold bearings
those historical phenomena which attend or produce the critical
turning-points, the decisive eras of history, that we can clearly
discover the spiritual elements--the great ideas which lie at the
bottom of a mighty revolution in society. In every other abstract
science, an exception from the rule appears a contradiction--but in
the science of history, every real exception serves but the better to
make us comprehend and judge the rest.
Such an exception I have now to point out in reference to my remarks
on the intellectual progress of Europe, in those two epochs of its
mental cultivation, one of which I designated as the scholastico-romantic
era, the other as the era of enthusiasm for the Pagan antique; the
former being inadequate to the wants of that age, as well as of
posterity, and the other secretly destructive of the old Christian
order of things. But on the whole, from the tone prevalent in either
period, I do not know I could have otherwise characterized the spirit
peculiar to those two epochs. Yet even in those periods, and in the
sphere of philosophic and religious meditation, the spirit of
Christianity showed itself independent of, and superior to the temper
of the times; and between these opposite eras, we meet with works
displaying a clear and beautiful simplicity of expression, united with
the utmost purity and depth of ascetic feelings. Among several others,
I need only cite the German Thomas a Kempis, whose most celebrated
work has become a manual of devotion for all the European nations,
while those who know the philosophic spirit which reigns in his other
writings, can well recognize in this the same clear masterly mind,
which throwing off the abstruse forms of the school, pours itself
forth in a most lovely simplicity of diction.
I may be permitted to cite this glorious exception of a mind, that
amid the degenerate science of that age, rose into the pure atmosphere
of Christian philosophy, inasmuch as it serves to throw a light on the
general spirit of the times. Had that mild light of moral truth and
divine charity not been then so rare an exception; had that spirit of
Christian morality been somewhat more widely diffused; the violent
commotions in the following generation would not have occurred; for
they would have had no motive, nor object, nor any possible source of
existence. But in direct opposition to that pious Fleming, there was a
great Italian writer, who gave the tone to the moral and political
opinions of his age, and exerted the mightiest influence on his times,
both as a moralist and as a politician. I allude to Machiavelli, who
may serve as a proof, that the maxims and principles of Pagan
antiquity, with which the scholars of that age were imbued, were not
confined to the departments of art and of imagination, or of mere
erudition, but had a very powerful influence on politics: and however
much one may attempt to excuse, or explain away the design of one of
his works,[7] still all his other political writings clearly and
evidently shew that he was actuated by no other maxims of state-policy
than the old Roman and Pagan principle, of grasping, inexorable, and
selfish cunning. This writer announced only with greater clearness and
precision what were already the prevailing principles of his times,
and was thus the means of bringing those principles to fulness and
maturity.
When the Christian bond of union between the European states and
nations had been so completely dissevered, policy, together with all
moral principle, became for the most part Pagan, came to consider all
means as lawful for its ends, respected not the sacredness of any
institution, and was guided in all its projects by selfishness,
cupidity, or ambition. Animated with this spirit, and guided by these
views, Lewis XI. consolidated the absolute authority of the crown in
the interior of his dominions, with the same inflexible perseverance
of character, and the same consummate political art, which in his
endeavours to maintain his power against the Duke of Burgundy and
other neighbours, characterized his foreign policy. In Ferdinand the
Catholic, King of Spain, who permanently united the two kingdoms of
Arragon and Castile, put an end to the Arab dominion by the conquest
of Granada, and came into possession of the golden mines of America;
the arbitrary principles of policy and of government, which were then
so generally prevalent, are particularly perceptible. The barbarous
persecution, and the expulsion of the Jews from Spain, was certainly
prejudicial to the welfare of the country, was in itself an act of
reprehensible severity, and was, above all, a dangerous precedent for
the further extension and application of the same oppressive policy
towards the Arabian population (still very numerous in many provinces
of Spain), and towards the peaceable descendants of the old Mahomedan
conquerors. From the contests carried on in Spain itself, with the
Mahomedans for the space of eight centuries, a religious war almost
entered into the system of national policy. The wisdom of a great and
lenient monarch, like Charles the Fifth, might indeed mitigate the
evils of the times, and as long as he lived, and as far as
circumstances permitted, might oppose a check to the torrent of the
new opinions in Germany. But with all his pacific endeavours he was
unable either to prevent the rupture and separation of a part of
Germany, or to stop the progress of arbitrary principles of
government, which under his successor on the Spanish throne, became
perfectly irresistible. The intermixture of political and
ecclesiastical affairs and institutions existed more or less
everywhere, and in truth had a deep historical foundation in the
peculiar circumstances of place; and unless we deeply investigate all
the particulars of those local circumstances, and accurately
discriminate their several peculiarities, it would be difficult, and
indeed rash to pronounce a general opinion respecting them--as so
sweeping a judgment would give a false and erroneous turn to a censure
apparently well-founded, and often just in itself. The Inquisition in
Spain for instance, was from the very peculiar character which it took
in that country, far more a political than an ecclesiastical
institute. If the secular power had been guilty of arbitrary and
violent encroachments on ecclesiastical jurisdiction, ecclesiastical
power in its turn had from the spirit of the times become in many
respects too secular.
When the Popes had returned to Rome from the captivity of Avignon,
experience taught them how necessary to their dignity and
independence was the possession of a sovereign principality, which
however inconsiderable, should be at least free from foreign controul.
Nay, since the German Empire had become really extinct, or existed
only in name, it was the interest of the secular powers themselves,
that the political authority of the Pope within the ecclesiastical
states should rest on a firm and secure foundation, and should thus
afford them a guarantee that the sovereign Pontiff would not again be
in a state of exclusive dependance on any one of the different
powers--divided as they now all were in interests, and animated by
mutual jealousy. Without taking into account the personal scandals of
Alexander VI., the mode in which some Popes, especially of the Borgia
family, sought to consolidate their power within the ecclesiastical
territory, must have appeared very revolting in the spiritual heads of
Christendom. And although Julius II. possessed many great and princely
qualities; still an injurious impression must have been produced on
the public and popular mind, when the chief ecclesiastic, and a prince
of peace girded on the sword, and put on the martial cuirass. The name
of the Medicean Pope, Leo X., is one celebrated in the history of art
and science, and serves to denote its most brilliant era; he possessed
perhaps all the qualities most calculated to shed lustre round the
throne of a secular monarch; but he was not the Pontiff to discern
the fearful dangers and urgent necessities of the church in that age,
to avert those dangers by his foresight, or to surmount them by
conciliation.
A succession of such Pontiffs immediately prior to the breaking out of
the Reformation, is of no slight historical importance. It would
really appear as if the church were destined, by the losses it
experienced, to learn the greatness of the danger to which its too
worldly policy exposed it, and to be brought back by misfortune to its
true, proper, and essential destination. Indeed at that time, the
materials of political combustion were by no means wanting in Italy.
Even in the absence of the Popes, a political fanatic, Rienzi, had
excited a Revolution for the purpose of restoring the ancient
Republic; and the internal feuds and civil wars of Florence were the
effects of factions, almost inseparable from a state constituted like
the Florentine Republic. In the last period of civil disorder, shortly
after Lorenzo's death, a religious fanatic, the Dominican
Savanarola--appeared at the head of a political Revolution; and his
revolutionary principles were strangely mixed up with his religious
tenets. Here evidently is a fact not undeserving of attention, if we
would wish to form a right estimate of the state and circumstances of
that age--it is that the very origin of this new species of fanaticism
or heresy, and not its ulterior progress (as in the case of the
Hussites,) was marked and accompanied by political commotions, and
crimes against the state.
When that bond of religious unity--that high fellowship of Christian
feeling which had united the various states of Christendom, was in a
great measure dissolved, the different powers of Europe (as is usually
the case among neighbouring independent nations, when directed by
separate views of policy) the different powers of Europe engaged in a
system of alliances subject to various fluctuations, but all formed on
the principle of a mere dynamical equilibrium--just as if government
and social power, even under the influence of Christianity, were
nought but a mere material weight--a mere lever of physical force.
Ever since the expedition of Charles VIII. into Italy had provoked
resistance, and occasioned a re-action, the dominion of that country,
for which Spain and France contended with all their might, was a
peculiar subject of jealousy between those states, and gave rise to
many wars. The other powers that took an active part in this game of
political alliances--this system of the balance of power,--were
Venice, the Emperor Maximilian, and the Pope. How very much an active
participation in affairs of so worldly a nature was unbefitting the
last-named potentate, I need not stop to observe. That conduct gave
occasion afterwards to a great public scandal. For instance, when the
Pope had formed an alliance with the King of France against Charles V.;
and to resent this, the Emperor's German army (among whom were a
great many entertaining the opinions of Luther), had proceeded to the
conquest of Rome; this was a fresh and mighty source of scandal at
that momentous epoch. Nay, the great dissatisfaction of the Emperor
with the conduct of some Popes (though this referred merely to their
political acts), when coupled with his conciliatory conduct towards
the German Protestants, induced many to question the sincerity of his
attachment to the Catholic faith. However false and unfounded such a
surmise might be, still all things contributed to foster the belief,
and on all sides there was a concurrence of circumstances to lead the
public mind more and more astray.
The good and high-minded Emperor, Maximilian, who had meditated, and
might have accomplished many other noble projects and important
enterprises, was compelled to labour during his whole life, though in
vain, to discover in the total absence of all physical resources, some
counterpoise to the power of France, and some barrier and security
against the encroachments of Turkish ambition. But when fortune had
placed on the head of Charles V. the united crowns of Spain and
Burgundy, the necessity of choosing an Emperor, who like those of
earlier ages, might be capable of coping with all the dangers of the
times, was universally felt; and this feeling led to the election of
Charles. But for this choice, the system of European states would
have fallen to pieces, and Christendom become a prey as well to
foreign conquest as to internal anarchy. The mind of Charles was
entirely occupied with the old idea of an universal Christian Empire,
and a religious feeling was at the bottom of all his political schemes
and enterprises. But whatever might be the extent of the countries
over which he reigned, and whatever the apparent greatness of his
power, yet amid the various designs he had to prosecute, and in the
struggle he had to maintain against the combined array of so many
hostile elements, he felt the want of those real resources which are
to be found in a compact and well-united monarchy. To the Spanish
crown he imparted great splendour, and even in Italy remained the
master; but he met with very imperfect success in his efforts against
Mohammedan power--a power from whose oppressions, and still further
encroachments, it was the first duty of the Emperor, as the armed
Protector of Christendom, to defend the European states. His
conciliatory policy towards the German Protestants did not attain its
object, for amid the general ferment of the age, the torrent of
religious opinions bore down all before it. His wish to re-establish
order in church and state by means of a general council, and thereby
to consolidate anew the old foundations of faith, was fully
accomplished only after his death.