It is a matter worthy of consideration why the progress which is in our
time so unexpectedly rapid in all which concerns the physical world,
should be so slow, or rather so limited, in the sphere of morals. We
might almost say that, like a line ascending in a spiral form, progress
can in each historical period only be made within the given orbit in
which the period itself revolves.
With respect to the two principal questions which interest mankind in
its complex—that is, in its political and social—existence, the orbit
in which the historical period preceding our own revolved, as far as
politics are concerned, circled round what we may term the State,
although this does not precisely correspond to our present conception
of the word; and socially it revolved round an absolute system of
proprietorship, together with the rights and duties which were to
a varying extent attached to it, and which included a relative and
practically obsolete exercise of charitable customs.
That which was called a State was not always a combination which
had, in accordance with the modern conception, the public welfare as
its sole and supreme object, but it generally depended on certain
rights which had their origin in facts of extreme antiquity. These
combinations were of two kinds. The most usual, which was indeed
almost universal in Europe, was the monarchy, in which a given family
governed and represented the interests of a more or less extensive
number of peoples, which in virtue of ancient rights, of conquests, of
treaties, or in any other way belonged to her. In a few rare instances
these monarchies were elective, and the rulers, who were elected by
a college, a caste, or in some other manner, found themselves in the
same conditions as hereditary sovereigns. The least common, but not
the least important and successful, form of government was that of
the communities which governed themselves. But even this form relied
for its existence on the same elements as the monarchies—that is, on
rights, conquests, and treaties, or similar reasons—on which alone the
political state of Europe was based up to the year 1815.
By this we mean that up to 1815 no right was recognised in political
life except that which derived its origin from some fact or facts which
were supposed to constitute rights, such as successions, conquests,
concessions, or gifts. Spain, in virtue of one or other of these
titles, ruled the Low Countries and the kingdom of Naples, nor did it
occur to any one to discuss the fitness of this strange aggregation of
different peoples, united in a single State. It would be tedious to
cite all the instances of curious combinations to which the ancient
European rights gave rise. Although they had a tendency to dissolve
under the influence of recent times, yet the system was maintained
up to 1815, the date of the last great treaty which was made on this
basis, and of which the effect remained up to 1845.
Throughout this protracted period, of which the beginning is confounded
with that of European civilisation, a certain progress did, however,
take place in the conditions of European society, which advanced from
the capitulations of Charles the Great to the English Great Charter,
from arbitrary decrees to the statutes of the republic of Florence,
and finally, to the legislative acts of Joseph the Second in Austria,
of Leopold in Tuscany, Charles the Third in the kingdom of Naples, and
of all the contemporary governments which uttered their last word on
such progress as was possible to politicians of that period, and which
consisted in adapting as far as possible the inflexible exigencies of
ancient rights to the necessities of modern facts, and in inducing
those who governed by divine right to consider the interests of the
people. But this was only up to a certain point, and the relative
conditions of the governors and the governed did not cease to be the
basis of European policy.
Speaking of these things at this day is like speaking of another
world. A State which is not governed in the interests of those of whom
it consists would be a tyranny. It is held to be an iniquity to hold
a people subject to a rule which is independent of ethnographical,
geographical, or economical considerations, and such a people would
be considered justified in throwing off the yoke, if possible. A war
undertaken to maintain a purely dynastic title would be regarded as an
intolerable burden, to which no nation is bound to submit.
The arguments which are used to stigmatise and condemn the old system
as unjust and out of date are naturally derived from its evils,
dangers, and inconveniences. The people were subject to laws, taxation,
and wars, for causes which did not concern them, and which for that
very reason multiplied without control. The Thirty Years’ War and the
War of Succession cut down whole peoples, not for their own benefit,
but in order to decide to whom they should belong. A permanent state
of war appeared to be the inevitable result of the conflagration of
all these rights, which were contested at the expense of the happiness
of peoples. Meanwhile science had changed the basis of rights, and the
famous principles of 1789, which had their birth in the intoxication of
the nascent revolution and were nourished by the blood of its maturer
age, found their way into codes and constitutions. The old system,
condemned both in theory and practice, was anathematised by the rising
generation, which claimed to have discovered the secret of true policy,
and the grand panacea for all the evils of humanity.
Nor was it otherwise with social questions. The conception that every
man might do what he pleased with his own, and might transmit it to
others both before and after his death, was more or less present in the
constitution of all civil societies. But this system deprived of the
enjoyments of life all those who were unable to acquire property for
themselves, and to whom no one could or would transmit it. In one word,
in this system there were no official dispositions for the poor, who
nevertheless constitute the eternal problem of human society. In fact,
money enough for the permanent and complete relief of the poor could
not be found, nor the mode of useful legislation on this subject. But
an appeal beneath the beneficent influence of Christianity was made
to the most refined sentiments of humanity, and created duties which,
however imperfectly fulfilled, were imperious, and relied on a divine
sanction. In this way charity provided for the variable and indefinite
needs which exist in all human societies, from the richest and most
fortunate to the poorest and most unhappy, and did so with the buoyant
and indefinite force inspired by sentiment, which contrasts strongly
with similar laws and provisions enacted by the State.
The modern phase of thought does not venture openly to attack socially
property, as politically it has attacked divine right, because it
has not known what to substitute in its place. It was less difficult
to sustain universal suffrage, which met with fewer obstacles in its
translation into fact than communism or socialism. There has therefore
been no direct attack on property, but for a long while circuitous
means have been taken to undermine its rights. By the destruction of
the feudal system, the bonds which connected property with the exercise
of political power were burst asunder, and another blow was struck
at its stability by the abolition of the rights of eldest sons, and
of all the other privileges belonging to it, according to ancient
usage. Later, legitimate successions and those of intestate persons
have been regulated, and thus the disintegration has been gradually
prepared. Finally, the laws of taxation for purposes of the State or
of public welfare have further confiscated a large portion of private
property. Hence it may be said that on great part of the Continent
property of every kind—rural, urban, movable, or immovable—has become
a merchandise, great part of which is administered by trustees for
the benefit of the State, while the rest is subject to a number of
laws, contracts, and combinations which cause it to pass from one
person to another with the utmost rapidity, so that its enjoyment
may be extended to as large a number as possible, since the mode of
distributing it to all has not yet been discovered.
Charity has been overthrown by the same blow. It has shared the
unpopularity of her preachers, and it also, without being directly
attacked, has been subjected, under different pretexts, to the
destruction and conversion of a very large number of institutions
founded under its banner, and discredit has been thrown on its
practices and provisions, while the struggle for existence has been
brutally substituted for charity. So much the worse for the man who
cannot help himself out of a difficulty. The motto of our time is a
species of _sauve qui peut_, which begins in the transactions of the
money market and leads some to the temple of fortune and others to the
river or to the lunatic asylum.
We do not, however, assert that the inexhaustible source of human
kindness with which God has mercifully endowed our nature does not
still find means of doing good, and great good. Institutions, which
are for the most part beneficent, abound on every side, and supply
the place of the ancient foundations which have disappeared. But
the conception and its mode of execution are different and do not
correspond with the old usage. Everything is done according to rule
in modern philanthropy. There are free municipal schools in which
instruction is given to those who do or do not desire it. There are
hospitals in which a definite number of patients afflicted by certain
diseases are collected, and if the number is exceeded or the symptoms
are not the same, they are left to die until a hospital is founded
which is intended for such cases. If a man is in want of bread he
receives a garment, because the institution which might help him only
provides clothes; and if a whole family is dying of hunger they will
receive a mattress if directed to an institution which only supplies
beds. The liberal charity which is personal and intelligent, and
which corresponds to the infinite variety and combinations of human
necessities, lingers, thank God! in the hearts of the beneficent, but
its form is discredited and its means are abridged. The great mass
of the funds which were devoted to charity is now diverted into the
official and semi-official channels of modern philanthropy. In my
opinion, the relief which is now given does good without remedying the
evil, since a dinner for to-day is always welcome, but it will not
prevent a man from dying of hunger next week, or of cold if he has
not wherewithal to cover himself; while a loaf or a cloak given at a
propitious moment may save the life of a man or of a whole family. So
it may be said that the place of charity has been taken by the struggle
for existence, only modified by administrative philanthropy.
This second revolution was produced by the growing discredit which
resulted from the evils and inconveniences which had their source
in the ancient conception of property, and from those which were
attributed to the free and sentimental charity. Property, when in the
hands of a few privileged classes, made few happy while the many were
unhappy. Charity created miseries by encouraging idleness. Such were
the principal arguments which overthrew the old system.
Thus political power of an exclusive and egotistic character, which
was founded on divine right, was destroyed in order to constitute
governments on a popular basis; labor was substituted for charity. It
appeared to the philosophers who carried out this great revolution that
nothing more was needed to inaugurate a new golden age in which the
rivers would flow with milk, and ripe fruits would fall on every man’s
table. It is needless to add that peace and general satisfaction were
to be the results of this profound and laborious revolution.