Chapter IV (2)

The principle I am advocating is of such immense importance in practice as well as in theory, that I will give yet another instance of the energy with which it works. The second greatest evil known to mankind--the one by which, with the exception of religious persecution, most suffering has been caused--is, unquestionably, the practice of war. That this barbarous pursuit is, in the progress of society, steadily declining, must be evident, even to the most hasty reader of European history.[326] If we compare one country with another, we shall find that for a very long period wars have been becoming less frequent; and now so clearly is the movement marked, that, until the late commencement of hostilities, we had remained at peace for nearly forty years: a circumstance unparalleled, not only in our own country, but also in the annals of every other country which has been important enough to play a leading part in the affairs of the world.[327] The question arises, as to what share our moral feelings have had in bringing about this great improvement. And if this question is answered, not according to preconceived opinions, but according to the evidence we possess, the answer will certainly be, that those feelings have had no share at all. For it surely will not be pretended that the moderns have made any discoveries respecting the moral evils of war. On this head nothing is now known that has not been known for many centuries. That defensive wars are just, and that offensive wars are unjust, are the only two principles which, on this subject, moralists are able to teach. These two principles were as clearly laid down, as well understood, and as universally admitted, in the Middle Ages, when there was never a week without war, as they are at the present moment, when war is deemed a rare and singular occurrence. Since, then, the actions of men respecting war have been gradually changing, while their moral knowledge respecting it has not been changing, it is palpably evident that the changeable effect has not been produced by the unchangeable cause. It is impossible to conceive an argument more decisive than this. If it can be proved that, during the last thousand years, moralists or theologians have pointed out a single evil caused by war, the existence of which was unknown to their predecessors,--if this can be proved, I will abandon the view for which I am contending. But if, as I most confidently assert, this cannot be proved, then it must be conceded that, no additions having been made on this subject to the stock of morals, no additions can have been made to the result which the morals produce.[328]

[326] On the diminished love of war, which is even more marked than the
actual diminution of war, see some interesting remarks in
_Comte_, _Philosophie Positive_, vol. iv. pp. 488, 713, vol. vi.
pp. 68, 424-436, where the antagonism between the military spirit
and the industrial spirit is, on the whole, well worked out;
though some of the leading phenomena have escaped the attention
of this eminent philosopher, from his want of acquaintance with
the history and present state of political economy.

[327] In _Pellew's Life of Sidmouth_, 1847, vol. iii. p. 137, this
prolonged peace is gravely ascribed to 'the wisdom of the
adjustment of 1815;' in other words, to the proceedings of the
Congress of Vienna!

[328] Unless more zeal has been displayed in the diffusion of moral and
religious principles; in which case it would be possible for the
principles to be stationary, and yet their effects be
progressive. But so far from this, it is certain that in the
Middle Ages there were, relatively to the population, more
churches than there are now; the spiritual classes were far more
numerous, the proselyting spirit far more eager, and there was a
much stronger determination to prevent purely scientific
inferences from encroaching on ethical ones. Indeed, during the
Middle Ages, the moral and religious literature outweighed all
the profane literature put together; and surpassed it, not only
in bulk, but also in the ability of its cultivators. Now,
however, the generalizations of moralists have ceased to control
the affairs of men, and have made way for the larger doctrine of
expediency, which includes all interests and all classes.
Systematic writers on morals reached their zenith in the
thirteenth century, fell off rapidly after that period, were, as
Coleridge well says, opposed by 'the genius of Protestantism:'
and, by the end of the seventeenth century, became extinct in the
most civilized countries; the _Ductor Dubitantium_ of Jeremy
Taylor being the last comprehensive attempt of a man of genius to
mould society solely according to the maxims of moralists.
Compare two interesting passages in _Mosheim's Ecclesiast.
Hist._, vol. i. p. 338, and _Coleridge's Friend_, vol. iii. p.
104.

Thus far as to the influence exercised by moral feelings in increasing our distaste for war. But if, on the other hand, we turn to the human intellect, in the narrowest sense of the term, we shall find that every great increase in its activity has been a heavy blow to the warlike spirit. The full evidence for this I shall hereafter detail at considerable length; and in this Introduction I can only pretend to bring forward a few of those prominent points, which, being on the surface of history, will be at once understood.

Of these points, one of the most obvious is, that every important addition made to knowledge increases the authority of the intellectual classes, by increasing the resources which they have to wield. Now, the antagonism between these classes and the military class is evident: it is the antagonism between thought and action, between the internal and the external, between argument and violence, between persuasion and force; or, to sum up the whole, between men who live by the pursuits of peace and those who live by the practice of war. Whatever, therefore, is favourable to one class, is manifestly unfavourable to the other. Supposing the remaining circumstances to be the same, it must happen, that as the intellectual acquisitions of a people increase, their love of war will diminish; and if their intellectual acquisitions are very small, their love of war will be very great.[329] In perfectly barbarous countries, there are no intellectual acquisitions; and the mind being a blank and dreary waste, the only resource is external activity,[330] the only merit personal courage. No account is made of any man, unless he has killed an enemy; and the more he has killed, the greater the reputation he enjoys.[331] This is the purely savage state; and it is the state in which military glory is most esteemed, and military men most respected.[332] From this frightful debasement, even up to the summit of civilization, there is a long series of consecutive steps; gradations, at each of which something is taken from the dominion of force, and something given to the authority of thought. Slowly, and one by one, the intellectual and pacific classes begin to arise; at first held in great contempt by warriors, but nevertheless gradually gaining ground, increasing in number and in power, and at each increase weakening that old military spirit, in which all other tendencies had formerly been absorbed. Trade, commerce, manufactures, law, diplomacy, literature, science, philosophy,--all these things, originally unknown, became organized into separate studies, each study having a separate class, and each class insisting on the importance of its own pursuit. Of these classes, some are, no doubt, less pacific than others; but even those which are the least pacific, are, of course, more so than men whose associations are entirely military, and who see in every fresh war that chance of personal distinction, from which, during peace, they are altogether debarred.[333]

[329] Herder boldly asserts that man originally, and by virtue of his
organization, is peaceably disposed; but this opinion is
decisively refuted by the immense additions which, since the time
of Herder, have been made to our knowledge of the feelings and
habits of savages. 'Indessen ist's wahr, dass der Bau des
Menschen vorzüglich auf die Vertheidigung, nicht auf den Angriff
gerichtet ist: in diesem muss ihm die Kunst zu Hülfe kommen, in
jener aber ist er von Natur das kräftigste Geschöpf der Erde.
Seine Gestalt selbst lehret ihn also Friedlichkeit, nicht
räuberische Mordverwüstung,--der Humanität erstes Merkmal.'
_Ideen zur Geschichte_, vol. i. p. 185.

[330] Hence, no doubt, that acuteness of the senses, natural, and indeed
necessary, to an early state of society, and which, being at the
expense of the reflecting faculties, assimilates man to the lower
animals. See _Carpenter's Human Physiology_, p. 404; and a fine
passage in _Herder's Ideen zur Geschichte_, vol. ii. p. 12: 'Das
abstehende thierische Ohr, das gleichsam immer lauscht und
horchet, das kleine scharfe Auge, das in der weitesten Ferne den
kleinsten Rauch oder Staub gewahr wird, der weisse
hervorbleckende, knochenbenagende Zahn, der dicke Hals und die
zurückgebogene Stellung ihres Kopfes auf demselben.' Compare
_Prichard's Physical Hist. of Mankind_, vol. i. pp. 292, 293;
_Azara_, _Amérique Méridionale_, vol. ii. p. 18; _Wrangel's Polar
Expedition_, p. 384; _Pallme's Travels in Kordofan_, pp. 132,
133.

[331] 'Among some Macedonian tribes, the man who had never slain an
enemy was marked by a degrading badge.' _Grote's History of
Greece_, vol. xi. p. 397. Among the Dyaks of Borneo, 'a man
cannot marry until he has procured a human head; and he that has
several may be distinguished by his proud and lofty bearing, for
it constitutes his patent of nobility.' _Earl's Account of
Borneo_, in _Journal of Asiatic Society_, vol. iv. p. 181. See
also _Crawfurd on Borneo_, in _Journal of Geog. Soc._, vol.
xxiii. pp. 77, 80. And for similar instances of this absorption
of all other ideas into warlike ones, compare _Journal of Geog.
Soc._, vol. x. p. 357; _Mallet's Northern Antiquities_, pp. 158,
159, 195; _Thirlwall's Hist. of Greece_, vol. i. pp. 226, 284,
vol. viii. p. 209; _Henderson's History of Brazil_, p. 475;
_Southey's History of Brazil_, vol. i. pp. 126, 248; _Asiatic
Researches_, vol. ii. p. 188, vol. vii. p. 193; _Transactions of
Bombay Society_, vol. ii. pp. 51, 52; _Hoskins's Travels in
Ethiopia_, p. 163; _Origines du Droit_, in _[OE]uvres de
Michelet_, vol. ii. pp. 333, 334 note. So also the Thracians:
[Greek: gês de ergatên atimotaton. to sên apo polemoi kai
lêistuos, kalliston.] _Herodotus_, book v. chap. 6, vol. iii. p.
10, edit. Baehr.

[332] Malcolm (_History of Persia_, vol. i. p. 204) says of the Tartars,
'There is only one path to eminence, that of military renown.'
Thus, too, in the _Institutes of Timour_, p. 269: 'He only is
equal to stations of power and dignity, who is well acquainted
with the military art, and with the various modes of breaking and
defeating hostile armies.' The same turn of mind is shown in the
frequency and evident delight with which Homer relates battles--a
peculiarity noticed in _Mure's Greek Literature_, vol. ii. pp.
63, 64, where an attempt is made to turn it into an argument to
prove that the Homeric poems are all by the same author; though
the more legitimate inference would be that the poems were all
composed in a barbarous age.

[333] To the prospect of personal distinction there was formerly added
that of wealth; and in Europe, during the Middle Ages, war was a
very lucrative profession, owing to the custom of exacting heavy
ransom for the liberty of prisoners. See Barrington's learned
work, _Observations on the Statutes_, pp. 390-393. In the reign
of Richard II. 'a war with France was esteemed as almost the only
method by which an English gentleman could become rich.' Compare
_Turner's Hist. of England_, vol. vi. p. 21. Sainte Palaye
(_Mémoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie_, vol. i. p. 311) says, 'La
guerre enrichissoit alors par le butin, et par les rançons, celui
qui la faisoit avec le plus de valeur, de vigilance et
d'activité. La rançon étoit, ce semble, pour l'ordinaire, une
année des revenus du prisonnier.' For an analogy with this, see
_Rig Veda Sanhita_, vol. i. p. 208, sec. 3, and vol. ii. p. 265,
sec. 13. In Europe, the custom of paying a ransom for
prisoners-of-war survived the Middle Ages, and was only put an
end to by the peace of Munster, in 1648. _Manning's Commentaries
on the Law of Nations_, 1839, p. 162; and on the profits formerly
made, pp. 157, 158.

Thus it is that, as civilization advances, an equipoise is established, and military ardour is balanced by motives which none but a cultivated people can feel. But among a people whose intellect is not cultivated, such a balance can never exist. Of this we see a good illustration in the history of the present war.[334] For the peculiarity of the great contest in which we are engaged is, that it was produced, not by the conflicting interests of civilized countries, but by a rupture between Russia and Turkey, the two most barbarous monarchies now remaining in Europe. This is a very significant fact. It is highly characteristic of the actual condition of society, that a peace of unexampled length should have been broken, not, as former peaces were broken, by a quarrel between two civilized nations, but by the encroachments of the uncivilized Russians on the still more uncivilized Turks. At an earlier period, the influence of intellectual, and therefore pacific, habits was indeed constantly increasing, but was still too weak, even in the most advanced countries, to control the old warlike habits: hence there arose a desire for conquest, which often outweighed all other feelings, and induced great nations like France and England to attack each other on the slightest pretence, and seek every opportunity of gratifying the vindictive hatred with which both contemplated the prosperity of their neighbour. Such, however, is now the progress of affairs, that these two nations, laying aside the peevish and irritable jealousy they once entertained, are united in a common cause, and have drawn the sword, not for selfish purposes, but to protect the civilized world against the incursions of a barbarous foe.

[334] I wrote this in 1855.

This is the leading feature which distinguishes the present war from its predecessors. That a peace should last for nearly forty years, and should then be interrupted, not, as heretofore, by hostilities between civilized states, but by the ambition of the only empire which is at once powerful and uncivilized--is one of many proofs that a dislike to war is a cultivated taste peculiar to an intellectual people. For no one will pretend that the military predilections of Russia are caused by a low state of morals, or by a disregard of religious duties. So far from this, all the evidence we have shows that vicious habits are not more common in Russia than in France or England;[335] and it is certain that the Russians submit to the teachings of the church with a docility greater than that displayed by their civilized opponents.[336] It is, therefore, clear that Russia is a warlike country, not because the inhabitants are immoral, but because they are unintellectual. The fault is in the head, not in the heart. In Russia, the national intellect being little cultivated, the intellectual classes lack influence; the military class, therefore, is supreme. In this early stage of society, there is as yet no middle rank,[337] and consequently the thoughtful and pacific habits which spring from the middle ranks have no existence. The minds of men, deprived of mental pursuits,[338] naturally turn to warlike ones, as the only resource remaining to them. Hence it is that, in Russia, all ability is estimated by a military standard. The army is considered to be the greatest glory of the country: to win a battle, or outwit an enemy, is valued as one of the noblest achievements of life; and civilians, whatever their merits may be, are despised by this barbarous people, as beings of an altogether inferior and subordinate character.[339]

[335] Indeed some have supposed that there is less immorality in Russia
than in Western Europe; but this idea is probably erroneous. See
_Stirling's Russia_, Lond. 1841, pp. 59, 60. The benevolence and
charitable disposition of the Russians are attested by Pinkerton,
who had good means of information, and was by no means prejudiced
in their favour. See _Pinkerton's Russia_, Lond. 1833, pp. 335,
336. Sir John Sinclair also says they are 'prone to acts of
kindness and charity.' _Sinclair's Correspondence_, vol. ii. p.
241.

[336] The reverence of the Russian people for their clergy has attracted
the attention of many observers, and is, indeed, too notorious to
require proof.

[337] A very observing and intelligent writer says, 'Russia has only two
ranks--the highest and the lowest.' _Letters from the Baltic_,
Lond. 1841, vol. ii. p. 185. 'Les marchands, qui formeraient une
classe moyenne, sont en si petit nombre qu'ils ne peuvent marquer
dans l'état: d'ailleurs presque tous sont étrangers; ... où donc
trouver cette classe moyenne qui fait la force des états?'
_Custine's Russie_, vol. ii. pp. 125, 126: see also vol. iv.
p. 74.

[338] A recent authoress, who had admirable opportunities of studying
the society of St. Petersburg, which she estimated with that fine
tact peculiar to an accomplished woman, was amazed at this state
of things among classes surrounded with every form of luxury and
wealth: 'a total absence of all rational tastes or literary
topics.... Here it is absolutely _mauvais genre_ to discuss a
rational subject--mere _pédanterie_ to be caught upon any topics
beyond dressing, dancing, and a _jolie tournure_.' _Letters from
the Baltic_, 1841, vol. ii. p. 233. M. Custine (_La Russie en
1839_, vol. i. p. 321) says 'Règle générale, personne ne profère
jamais un mot qui pourrait intéresser vivement quelqu'un.' At
vol. ii. p. 195, 'De toutes les facultés de l'intelligence, la
seule qu'on estime ici c'est le tact.' Another writer of repute,
M. Kohl, contemptuously observes, that in Russia, 'the depths of
science are not even guessed at.' _Kohl's Russia_, 1842, Lond. p.
142.

[339] According to Schnitzler, 'Precedence is determined, in Russia, by
military rank; and an ensign would take the _pas_ of a nobleman
not enrolled in the army, or occupying some situation giving
military rank.' _M'Culloch's Geog. Dict._ 1849, vol. ii. p. 614.
The same thing is stated in _Pinkerton's Russia_, 1833, p. 321.
M. Erman, who travelled through great part of the Russian empire,
says, 'In the modern language of St. Petersburg, one constantly
hears a distinction of the greatest importance, conveyed in the
inquiry which is habitually made respecting individuals of the
educated class: Is he a plain-coat or a uniform?' _Erman's
Siberia_, vol. i. p. 45. See also on this preponderance of the
military classes, which is the inevitable fruit of the national
ignorance, _Kohl's Russia_, pp. 28, 194; _Stirling's Russia under
Nicholas the First_, p. 7; _Custine's Russie_, vol. i. pp. 147,
152, 252, 266, vol. ii. pp. 71, 128, 309, vol. iii. p. 328, vol.
iv. p. 284. Sir A. Alison (_History of Europe_, vol. ii. pp. 391,
392) says, 'The whole energies of the nation are turned towards
the army. Commerce, the law, and all civil employments, are held
in no esteem; the whole youth of any consideration betake
themselves to the profession of arms.' The same writer (vol. x.
p. 566) quotes the remark of Bremner, that 'nothing astonishes
the Russian or Polish noblemen so much as seeing the estimation
in which the civil professions, and especially the bar, are held
in Great Britain.'

In England, on the other hand, opposite causes have produced opposite results. With us intellectual progress is so rapid, and the authority of the middle class so great, that not only have military men no influence in the government of the state, but there seemed at one time even a danger lest we should push this feeling to an extreme; and lest, from our detestation of war, we should neglect those defensive precautions which the enmity of other nations makes it advisable to adopt. But this at least we may safely say, that, in our country, a love of war is, as a national taste, utterly extinct. And this vast result has been effected, not by moral teachings, nor by the dictates of moral instinct; but by the simple fact, that in the progress of civilization there have been formed certain classes of society which have an interest in the preservation of peace, and whose united authority is sufficient to control those other classes whose interest lies in the prosecution of war.

It would be easy to conduct this argument further, and to prove how, by an increasing love of intellectual pursuits, the military service necessarily declines, not only in reputation, but likewise in ability. In a backward state of society men of distinguished talents crowd to the army, and are proud to enrol themselves in its ranks. But, as society advances, new sources of activity are opened, and new professions arise, which, being essentially mental, offer to genius opportunities for success more rapid than any formerly known. The consequence is, that in England, where these opportunities are more numerous than elsewhere, it nearly always happens that if a father has a son whose faculties are remarkable, he brings him up to one of the lay professions, where intellect, when accompanied by industry, is sure to be rewarded. If, however, the inferiority of the boy is obvious, a suitable remedy is at hand: he is made either a soldier or a clergyman; he is sent into the army, or hidden in the church. And this, as we shall hereafter see, is one of the reasons why, as society advances, the ecclesiastical spirit and the military spirit never fail to decline. As soon as eminent men grow unwilling to enter any profession, the lustre of that profession will be tarnished: first its reputation will be lessened, and then its power will be abridged. This is the process through which Europe is actually passing, in regard both to the church and to the army. The evidence, so far as the ecclesiastical profession is concerned, will be found in another part of this work. The evidence respecting the military profession is equally decisive. For although that profession has in modern Europe produced a few men of undoubted genius, their number is so extremely small, as to amaze us at the dearth of original ability. That the military class, taken as a whole, has a tendency to degenerate, will become still more obvious if we compare long periods of time. In the ancient world, the leading warriors were not only possessed of considerable accomplishments, but were comprehensive thinkers in politics as well as in war, and were in every respect the first characters of their age. Thus--to give only a few specimens from a single people--we find that the three most successful statesmen Greece ever produced were Solon, Themistocles, and Epaminondas,--all of whom were distinguished military commanders. Socrates, supposed by some to be the wisest of the ancients, was a soldier; and so was Plato; and so was Antisthenes, the celebrated founder of the Cynics. Archytas, who gave a new direction to the Pythagorean philosophy; and Melissus, who developed the Eleatic philosophy--were both of them well-known generals, famous alike in literature and in war. Among the most eminent orators, Pericles, Alcibiades, Andocides, Demosthenes, and Æschines were all members of the military profession; as also were the two greatest tragic writers, Æschylus and Sophocles. Archilochus, who is said to have invented iambic verses, and whom Horace took as a model, was a soldier; and the same profession could likewise boast of Tyrtæus, one of the founders of elegiac poetry, and of Alcæus, one of the best composers of lyric poetry. The most philosophic of all the Greek historians was certainly Thucydides; but he, as well as Xenophon and Polybius, held high military appointments, and on more than one occasion succeeded in changing the fortunes of war. In the midst of the hurry and turmoil of camps, these eminent men cultivated their minds to the highest point that the knowledge of that age would allow: and so wide is the range of their thoughts, and such the beauty and dignity of their style, that their works are read by thousands who care nothing about the sieges and battles in which they were engaged.

These were among the ornaments of the military profession in the ancient world; and all of them wrote in the same language, and were read by the same people. But in the modern world this identical profession, including many millions of men, and covering the whole of Europe, has never been able, since the sixteenth century, to produce ten authors who have reached the first class either as writers or as thinkers. Descartes is an instance of an European soldier combining the two qualities; he being as remarkable for the exquisite beauty of his style as for the depth and originality of his inquiries. This, however, is a solitary case; and there is, I believe, no second one of a modern military writer thus excelling in both departments. Certainly, the English army, during the last two hundred and fifty years, affords no example of it, and has, in fact, only possessed two authors, Raleigh and Napier, whose works are recognized as models, and are studied merely for their intrinsic merit. Still, this is simply in reference to style; and these two historians, notwithstanding their skill in composition, have never been reputed profound thinkers on difficult subjects, nor have they added anything of moment to the stock of our knowledge. In the same way, among the ancients, the most eminent soldiers were likewise the most eminent politicians, and the best leaders of the army were generally the best governors of the state. But here, again, the progress of society has wrought so great a change, that for a long period instances of this have been excessively rare. Even Gustavus Adolphus and Frederick the Great failed ignominiously in their domestic policy, and showed themselves as short-sighted in the arts of peace as they were sagacious in the arts of war. Cromwell, Washington, and Napoleon are, perhaps, the only first-rate modern warriors of whom it can be fairly said, that they were equally competent to govern a kingdom and command an army. And, if we look at England as furnishing a familiar illustration, we see this remark exemplified in our two greatest generals, Marlborough and Wellington. Marlborough was a man not only of the most idle and frivolous pursuits, but was so miserably ignorant, that his deficiencies made him the ridicule of his contemporaries; and of politics he had no other idea but to gain the favour of the sovereign by flattering his mistress, to desert the brother of that sovereign at his utmost need, and afterwards, by a double treachery, turn against his next benefactor, and engage in a criminal, as well as a foolish, correspondence with the very man whom a few years before he had infamously abandoned. These were the characteristics of the greatest conqueror of his age, the hero of a hundred fights, the victor of Blenheim and of Ramilies. As to our other great warrior, it is indeed true that the name of Wellington should never be pronounced by an Englishman without gratitude and respect: these feelings are, however, due solely to his vast military services, the importance of which it would ill become us to forget. But whoever has studied the civil history of England during the present century knows full well that this military chief, who in the field shone without a rival, and who, to his still greater glory be it said, possessed an integrity of purpose, an unflinching honesty, and a high moral feeling, which could not be surpassed, was nevertheless utterly unequal to the complicated exigencies of political life. It is notorious, that in his views of the most important legislative measures he was always in the wrong. It is notorious, and the evidence of it stands recorded in our Parliamentary Debates, that every great measure which was carried, every great improvement, every great step in reform, every concession to the popular wishes, was strenuously opposed by the Duke of Wellington, became law in spite of his opposition, and after his mournful declarations that by such means the security of England would be seriously imperilled. Yet there is now hardly a forward schoolboy who does not know that to these very measures the present stability of our country is mainly owing. Experience, the great test of wisdom, has amply proved, that those vast schemes of reform, which the Duke of Wellington spent his political life in opposing, were, I will not say expedient or advisable, but were indispensably necessary. That policy of resisting the popular will which he constantly advised is precisely the policy which has been pursued, since the Congress of Vienna, in every monarchy except our own. The result of that policy is written for our instruction: it is written in that great explosion of popular passion, which in the moment of its wrath upset the proudest thrones, destroyed princely families, ruined noble houses, desolated beautiful cities. And if the counsel of our great general had been followed, if the just demands of the people had been refused--this same lesson would have been written in the annals of our own land; and we should most assuredly have been unable to escape the consequence of that terrible catastrophe, in which the ignorance and selfishness of rulers did, only a few years ago, involve a large part of the civilized world.

Thus striking is the contrast between the military genius of ancient times, and the military genius of modern Europe. The causes of this decay are clearly traceable to the circumstance that, owing to the immense increase of intellectual employments, few men of ability will now enter a profession into which, in antiquity, men of ability eagerly crowded, as supplying the best means of exercising those faculties which, in more civilized countries, are turned to a better account. This, indeed, is a very important change; and thus to transfer the most powerful intellects from the arts of war to the arts of peace, has been the slow work of many centuries, the gradual, but constant, encroachments of advancing knowledge. To write the history of those encroachments would be to write the history of the human intellect--a task impossible for any single man adequately to perform. But the subject is one of such interest, and has been so little studied, that though I have already carried this analysis farther than I had intended, I cannot refrain from noticing what appear to me to be the three leading ways in which the warlike spirit of the ancient world has been weakened by the progress of European knowledge.

The first of these arose out of the invention of Gunpowder; which, though a warlike contrivance, has in its results been eminently serviceable to the interests of peace.[340] This important invention is said to have been made in the thirteenth century;[341] but was not in common use until the fourteenth, or even the beginning of the fifteenth, century. Scarcely had it come into operation, when it worked a great change in the whole scheme and practice of war. Before this time, it was considered the duty of nearly every citizen to be prepared to enter the military service, for the purpose either of defending his own country, or of attacking others.[342] Standing armies were entirely unknown; and in their place there existed a rude and barbarous militia, always ready for battle, and always unwilling to engage in those peaceful pursuits which were then universally despised. Nearly every man being a soldier, the military profession, as such, had no separate existence; or, to speak more properly, the whole of Europe composed one great army, in which all other professions were merged. To this the only exception was the ecclesiastical profession; but even that was affected by the general tendency, and it was not at all uncommon to see large bodies of troops led to the field by bishops and abbots, to most of whom the arts of war were in those days perfectly familiar.[343] At all events, between these two professions men were necessarily divided: the only avocations were war and theology; and if you refused to enter the church, you were bound to serve in the army. As a natural consequence, everything of real importance was altogether neglected. There were, indeed, many priests and many warriors, many sermons and many battles.[344] But, on the other hand, there was neither trade, nor commerce, nor manufactures; there was no science, no literature: the useful arts were entirely unknown; and even the highest ranks of society were unacquainted, not only with the most ordinary comforts, but with the commonest decencies of civilized life.

[340] The consequences of the invention of gunpowder are considered very
superficially by Frederick Schlegel (_Lectures on the History of
Literature_, vol. ii. pp. 37, 38), and by Dugald Stewart
(_Philosophy of the Mind_, vol. i. p. 262). They are examined
with much greater ability, though by no means exhaustively, in
_Smith's Wealth of Nations_, book v. chap. i. pp. 292, 296, 297;
_Herder's Ideen zur Geschichte der Menschheit_, vol. iv. p. 301;
_Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. ii. p. 470.

[341] From the following authorities, it appears impossible to trace it
further back than the thirteenth century; and it is doubtful
whether the Arabs were, as is commonly supposed, the inventors:
_Humboldt's Cosmos_, vol. ii. p. 590; _Koch_, _Tableaux des
Révolutions_, vol. i. p. 242; _Beckmann's History of Inventions_,
1846, vol. ii. p. 505; _Histoire Lit. de la France_, vol. xx. p.
236; _Thomson's History of Chemistry_, vol. i. p. 36; _Hallam's
Middle Ages_, vol. i. p. 341. The statements in _Erman's
Siberia_, vol. i. pp. 370, 371, are more positive than the
evidence we are possessed of will justify; but there can be no
doubt that a sort of gunpowder was at an early period used in
China, and in other parts of Asia.

[342] _Vattel, le Droit des Gens_, vol. ii. p. 129; _Lingard's History
of England_, vol. ii. pp. 356, 357. Among the Anglo-Saxons, 'all
free men and proprietors of land, except the ministers of
religion, were trained to the use of arms, and always held ready
to take the field at a moment's warning.' _Eccleston's English
Antiquities_, p. 62. 'There was no distinction between the
soldier and the citizen.' _Palgrave's Anglo-Saxon Commonwealth_,
vol. i. p. 200.

[343] On these warlike ecclesiastics, compare _Grose's Military Antiq._
vol. i. pp. 67-8; _Lingard's Hist. of England_, vol. ii. pp. 26,
183, vol. iii. p. 14; _Turner's Hist. of England_, vol. iv. p.
458, vol. v. pp. 92, 402, 406; _Mosheim's Eccl. History_, vol. i.
pp. 173, 193, 241; _Crichton's Scandinavia_, Edinb. 1838, vol. i.
p. 220. Such opponents were the more formidable, because in those
happy days it was sacrilege for a layman to lay hands on a
bishop. In 1095 his Holiness the Pope caused a council to
declare, 'Quòd qui apprehenderit episcopum omnino exlex fiat.'
_Matthæi Paris Historia Major_, p. 18. As the context contains no
limitation of this, it would follow that a man became spiritually
outlawed if he, even in self-defence, took a bishop prisoner.

[344] As Sharon Turner observes of England under the Anglo-Saxon
government, 'war and religion were the absorbing subjects of this
period.' _Turner's History of England_, vol. iii. p. 263. And a
recent scientific historian says of Europe generally: 'alle
Künste und Kenntnisse, die sich nicht auf das edle Kriegs-, Rauf-
und Raubhandwerk bezogen, waren überflüssig und schädlich. Nur
etwas Theologie war vonnöthen, um die Erde mit dem Himmel zu
verbinden.' _Winckler, Geschichte der Botanik_, 1854, p. 56.

But so soon as gunpowder came into use, there was laid the foundation of a great change. According to the old system, a man had only to possess, what he generally inherited from his father, either a sword or a bow, and he was ready equipped for the field.[345] According to the new system, new means were required, and the equipment became more costly and more difficult. First, there was the supply of gunpowder;[346] then there was the possession of muskets, which were expensive weapons, and considered difficult to manage.[347] Then, too, there were other contrivances to which gunpowder naturally gave rise, such as pistols, bombs, mortars, shells, mines, and the like.[348] All these things, by increasing the complication of the military art, increased the necessity of discipline and practice; while, at the same time, the change that was being effected in the ordinary weapons deprived the great majority of men of the possibility of procuring them. To suit these altered circumstances, a new system was organized: and it was found advisable to train up bodies of men for the sole purpose of war, and to separate them as much as possible from those other employments in which formerly all soldiers were occasionally engaged. Thus it was that there arose standing armies; the first of which were formed in the middle of the fifteenth century,[349] almost immediately after gunpowder was generally known. Thus, too, there arose the custom of employing mercenary troops; of which we find a few earlier instances, though the practice was not fully established until the latter part of the fourteenth century.[350]

[345] In 1181, Henry II. of England ordered that every man should have
either a sword or bow; which he was not to sell, but leave to his
heir: 'cæteri autem omnes haberent wanbasiam, capellum ferreum,
lanceam et gladium, vel arcum et sagittas: et prohibuit ne
aliquis arma sua venderet vel invadiaret; sed cùm moreretur,
daret illa propinquiori hæredi suo.' _Rog. de Hov. Annal. in
Scriptores post Bedam_, p. 348 rev. In the reign of Edward I., it
was ordered that every man possessing land to the value of forty
shillings should keep 'a sword, bow and arrows, and a dagger....
Those who were to keep bows and arrows might have them out of the
forest.' _Grose's Military Antiquities_, vol. ii. pp. 301, 302.
Compare _Geijer's History of the Swedes_, part i. p. 94. Even
late in the fifteenth century, there were at the Universities of
Oxford and Cambridge, 'in each from four to five thousand
scholars, all grown up, carrying swords and bows, and in great
part gentry.' _Sir William Hamilton on the History of
Universities_, in _Hamilton's Philosoph. Discussions_, p. 414.
One of the latest attempts made to revive archery was a warrant
issued by Elizabeth in 1596, and printed by Mr. Collier in the
_Egerton Papers_, pp. 217-220, edit. Camden Soc. 1840. In the
south-west of England, bows and arrows did not finally disappear
from the muster-rolls till 1599; and in the meantime the musket
gained ground. See _Yonge's Diary_, edit. Camden Soc. 1848,
p. xvii.

[346] It is stated by many writers that no gunpowder was manufactured in
England until the reign of Elizabeth. _Camden's Elizabeth_, in
_Kennett's History_, vol. ii. p. 388, London, 1719; _Strickland's
Queens of England_, vol. vi. p. 223, Lond. 1843; _Grose's
Military Antiquities_, vol. i. p. 378. But Sharon Turner
(_History of England_, vol. vi. pp. 490, 491, Lond. 1839) has
shown, from an order of Richard III. in the Harleian manuscripts,
that it was made in England in 1483; and Mr. Eccleston (_English
Antiquities_, p. 182, Lond. 1847) states, that the English both
made and exported it as early as 1411: compare p. 202. At all
events, it long remained a costly article; and even in the reign
of Charles I., I find a complaint of its dearness, 'whereby the
train-bands are much discouraged in their exercising.'
_Parliament. Hist._ vol. ii. p. 655. In 1686, it appears from the
_Clarendon Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 413, that the wholesale
price ranged from about 2_l._ 10_s._ to 3_l._ per barrel. On the
expense of making it in the present century, see _Liebig and
Kopp's Reports on Chemistry_, vol. iii. p. 325, Lond. 1852.

[347] The muskets were such miserable machines, that, in the middle of
the fifteenth century, it took a quarter of an hour to charge and
fire one. _Hallam's Middle Ages_, vol. i. p. 342. Grose
(_Military Antiquities_, vol. i. p. 146, vol. ii. pp. 292, 337)
says, that the first mention of muskets in England is in 1471;
and that rests for them did not become obsolete until the reign
of Charles I. In the recent edition of _Beckmann's History of
Inventions_, Lond. 1846, vol. ii. p. 535, it is strangely
supposed that muskets were 'first used at the battle of Pavia.'
Compare _Daniel_, _Histoire de la Milice_, vol. i. p. 464, with
_Smythe's Military Discourses_, in _Ellis's Original Letters_, p.
53, edit. Camden Society.

[348] Pistols are said to have been invented early in the sixteenth
century. _Grose's Military Antiq._ vol. i. pp. 102, 146.
Gunpowder was first employed in mining towns in 1487. _Prescott's
Hist. of Ferdinand and Isabella_, vol. ii. p. 32; _Koch_,
_Tableaux des Révolutions_, vol. i. p. 243; _Daniel_, _Histoire
de la Milice Française_, vol. i. p. 574. Daniel (_Milice
Française_, vol. i. pp. 580, 581) says that bombs were not
invented till 1588; and the same thing is asserted in _Biographie
Universelle_, vol. xv. p. 248: but, according to Grose (_Military
Antiq._ vol. i. p. 387), they are mentioned by Valturinus in
1472. On the general condition of the French artillery in the
sixteenth century, see _Relations des Ambassadeurs Vénitiens_,
vol. i. pp. 94, 476, 478, Paris, 1838, 4to: a curious and
valuable publication. There is some doubt as to the exact period
in which cannons were first known; but they were certainly used
in war before the middle of the fourteenth century. See _Bohlen_,
_das alte Indien_, vol. ii. p. 63; _Daniel_, _Histoire de la
Milice_, vol. i. pp. 441, 442.

[349] _Blackstone's Commentaries_, vol. i. p. 413; _Daniel, Hist. de la
Milice_, vol. i. p. 210, vol. ii. pp. 491, 493; _[OE]uvres de
Turgot_, vol. viii. p. 228.

[350] The leading facts respecting the employment of mercenary troops
are indicated with great judgment by Mr. Hallam, in his _Middle
Ages_, vol. i. p. 328-337.

The importance of this movement was soon seen, by the change it effected in the classification of European society. The regular troops being, from their discipline, more serviceable against the enemy, and also more immediately under the control of the government, it naturally followed that, as their merits became understood, the old militia should fall, first into disrepute, then be neglected, and then sensibly diminish. At the same time, this diminution in the number of undisciplined soldiers deprived the country of a part of its warlike resources, and therefore made it necessary to pay more attention to the disciplined ones, and to confine them more exclusively to their military duties. Thus it was that a division was first broadly established between the soldier and the civilian; and there arose a separate military profession,[351] which, consisting of a comparatively small number of the total amount of citizens, left the remainder to settle in some other pursuit.[352] In this way immense bodies of men were gradually weaned from their old warlike habits; and being, as it were, forced into civil life, their energies became available for the general purposes of society, and for the cultivation of those arts of peace which had formerly been neglected. The result was, that the European mind, instead of being, as heretofore, solely occupied either with war or with theology, now struck out into a middle path, and created those great branches of knowledge to which modern civilization owes its origin. In each successive generation this tendency towards a separate organization was more marked; the utility of a division of labour became clearly recognized; and by this means knowledge itself advanced, the authority of this middle or intellectual class correspondingly increased. Each addition to its power lessened the weight of the other two classes, and checked those superstitious feelings and that love of war, on which, in an early state of society, all enthusiasm is concentrated. The evidence of the growth and diffusion of this intellectual principle is so full and decisive, that it would be possible, by combining all the branches of knowledge, to trace nearly the whole of its consecutive steps. At present, it is enough to say, that, taking a general view, this third, or intellectual, class, first displayed an independent, though still a vague, activity in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; that in the sixteenth century, this activity, assuming a distinct form, showed itself in religious outbreaks; that in the seventeenth century, its energy, becoming more practical, was turned against the abuses of government, and caused a series of rebellions, from which hardly any part of Europe escaped; and finally, that in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it has extended its aim to every department of public and private life, diffusing education, teaching legislators, controlling kings, and, above all, settling on a sure foundation that supremacy of Public Opinion, to which not only constitutional princes, but even the most despotic sovereigns, are now rendered strictly amenable.

[351] Grose (_Military Antiquities_, vol. i. pp. 310, 311) says, that
until the sixteenth century, English soldiers had no professional
dress, but 'were distinguished by badges of their leaders' arms,
similar to those now worn by watermen.' It was also early in the
sixteenth century that there first arose a separate military
literature. _Daniel_, _Hist. de la Milice_, vol. i. p. 380: 'Les
auteurs, qui ont écrit en détail sur la discipline militaire: or
ce n'est guères que sous François I, et sous l'Empereur Charles
V, que les Italiens, les François, les Espagnols et les Allemans
ont commencé à écrire sur ce sujet.'

[352] The change from the time when every layman was a soldier, is very
remarkable. Adam Smith (_Wealth of Nations_, book v. chap. i. p.
291) says, 'Among the civilized nations of modern Europe, it is
commonly computed, that not more than the one-hundredth part of
the inhabitants of any country can be employed as soldiers,
without ruin to the country which pays the expense of their
service.' The same proportion is given in _Sadler's Law of
Population_, vol. i. p. 292; and in _Grandeur et Décadence des
Romains_, chap. iii.--_[OE]uvres de Montesquieu_, p. 130: also in
_Sharpe's History of Egypt_, vol. i. p. 105; and in _Alison's
History of Europe_, vol. xii. p. 318.

These, indeed, are vast questions; and, without some knowledge of them, no one can understand the present condition of European society, or form the least idea of its future prospects. It is, however, sufficient that the reader can now perceive the way in which so slight a matter as the invention of gunpowder diminished the warlike spirit, by diminishing the number of persons to whom the practice of war was habitual. There were, no doubt, other and collateral circumstances which tended in the same direction; but the use of gunpowder was the most effectual, because, by increasing the difficulty and expense of war, it made a separate military profession indispensable; and thus, curtailing the action of the military spirit, left an overplus, an unemployed energy, which soon found its way to the pursuits of peace, infused into them a new life, and began to control that lust of conquest, which, though natural to a barbarous people, is the great enemy of knowledge, and is the most fatal of those diseased appetites by which even civilized countries are too often afflicted.

The second intellectual movement, by which the love of war has been lessened, is much more recent, and has not yet produced the whole of its natural effects. I allude to the discoveries made by Political Economy: a branch of knowledge with which even the wisest of the ancients had not the least acquaintance, but which possesses an importance it would be difficult to exaggerate, and is, moreover, remarkable, as being the only subject immediately connected with the art of government that has yet been raised to a science. The practical value of this noble study, though perhaps only fully known to the more advanced thinkers, is gradually becoming recognized by men of ordinary education: but even those by whom it is understood seem to have paid little attention to the way in which, by its influence, the interests of peace, and therefore of civilization, have been directly promoted.[353] The manner in which this has been brought about, I will endeavour to explain, as it will furnish another argument in support of that great principle which I wish to establish.

[353] The pacific tendencies of political economy are touched on very
briefly in _Blanqui_, _Histoire de l'Economie Politique_, vol.
ii. p. 207; and in _Twiss's Progress of Political Economy_,
p. 240.

It is well known, that, among the different causes of war, commercial jealousy was formerly one of the most conspicuous; and there are numerous instances of quarrels respecting the promulgation of some particular tariff, or the protection of some favourite manufacture. Disputes of this kind were founded upon the very ignorant, but the very natural notion, that the advantages of commerce depend upon the balance of trade, and that whatever is gained by one country must be lost by another. It was believed that wealth is composed entirely of money; and that it is, therefore, the essential interest of every people to import few commodities and much gold. Whenever this was done, affairs were said to be in a sound and healthy state; but, if this was not done, it was declared that we were being drained of our resources, and that some other country was getting the better of us, and was enriching itself at our expense.[354] For this the only remedy was to negotiate a commercial treaty, which should oblige the offending nation to take more of our commodities, and give us more of their gold: if, however, they refused to sign the treaty, it became necessary to bring them to reason; and for this purpose an armament was fitted out to attack a people who, by lessening our wealth, had deprived us of that money by which alone trade could be extended in foreign markets.[355]

[354] This favourite doctrine is illustrated in a curious 'Discourse,'
written in 1578, and printed in _Stow's London_, in which it is
laid down, that if our exports exceed our imports, we gain by the
trade; but that, if they are less, we lose. _Stow's London_,
edit. Thoms, 1842, p. 205. Whenever this balance was disturbed,
politicians were thrown into an agony of fear. In 1620, James I.
said, in one of his long speeches, 'It's strange that my Mint
hath not gone this eight or nine years; but I think the fault of
the want of money is the uneven balancing of trade.' _Parl.
History_, vol. i. p. 1179; see also the debate 'On the Scarcity
of Money,' pp. 1194-1196. In 1620, the House of Commons, in a
state of great alarm, passed a resolution, 'That the importation
of tobacco out of Spain is one reason of the scarcity of money in
this kingdom.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. i. p. 1198. In 1627, it was
actually argued in the House of Commons that the Netherlands were
being weakened by their trade with the East Indies, because it
carried money out of the country! _Parl. Hist._ vol. ii. p. 220.
Half a century later, the same principle was advocated by Sir
William Temple in his Letters, and also in his Observations upon
the United Provinces. _Temple's Works_, vol. i. p. 175, vol. ii.
pp. 117, 118.

[355] In 1672, the celebrated Earl of Shaftesbury, then Lord Chancellor,
announced that the time had come when the English must go to war
with the Dutch; for that it was 'impossible both should stand
upon a balance; and that, if we do not master their trade, they
will ours. They or we must truckle. One must and will give the
law to the other. There is no compounding, where the contest is
for the trade of the whole world.' _Somers' Tracts_, vol. viii.
p. 39. A few months later, still insisting on the propriety of
the war, he gave as one of his reasons that it 'was necessary to
the trade of England that there should be a fair adjustment of
commerce in the East Indies.' _Parl. Hist._ vol. iv. p. 587. In
1701, Stepney, a diplomatist and one of the lords of trade,
published an essay, strongly insisting on the benefits which
would accrue to English commerce by a war with France. _Somers'
Tracts_, vol. xi. pp. 199, 217; and he says, p. 205, that one of
the consequences of peace with France would be 'the utter ruin
and destruction of our trade.' See also, in vol. xiii. p. 688,
the remarks on the policy of William III. In 1743, Lord
Hardwicke, one of the most eminent men of his time, said, in the
House of Lords, 'If our wealth is diminished, it is time to ruin
the commerce of that nation which has driven us from the markets
of the Continent--by sweeping the seas of their ships, and by
blockading their ports.' _Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors_,
vol. v. p. 89.