Chapter IX: Part 9

In Europe, Norway alone, among the Protestant states, has maintained down to our times laws of severe exclusion against every religion differing from the established one--an exclusion which extends as well to Jews as to Catholics; while Spain and Portugal only, among Catholic countries, offer an example of similar intolerance. To abolish suddenly without urgent and overpowering reasons, or some new historical emergency, laws which have thus grown out of the general circumstances of a country, which have existed for ages, and have taken deep root in the manners and habits of life, provokes suspicion, and may occasion danger. But we must not suppose that a severe and exclusive system of legislation, like that existing in Spain, can always counteract the occult and far more dangerous opposition of secret sects and societies. This might be proved, or rendered probable by many facts in the history of those countries during the eighteenth century. In Italy this rigid and exclusive legislation was never carried to the same unqualified extent. Intolerance there never extended to the Jews, nor to the Greek schismatics, and in recent times it does not, as formerly, affect the Protestants. In Germany, toleration was legally established by the treaty of Westphalia, and there the cause of toleration stood in no need of the modern principle of illuminism--the all-stirring and animating principle of the eighteenth century. But here illuminism in its first negative period was directed against prejudices and abuses of another kind. In certain Protestant countries in the North of Germany, this period of illumination dates from the abolition of trials for witchcraft. And against so modest a beginning not the slightest objection could be urged; for in general the criminal law which the later and already degenerate middle age bequeathed to modern times, afforded ample scope for amelioration, and contained many barbarous edicts that deserved to be abolished. The use of torture, and of un-christian and excruciating modes of execution, were next the objects of Reform. The total abolition of capital punishment, which this legal Reform soon aimed at in its ulterior progress, the experience of mankind has not yet found to be either possible or practicable. Who will be disposed to deny that the many abuses which were now corrected, and the many vulgar prejudices which were refuted or done away with, were especially at the outset, in a great measure such as were truly deserving of that name, and that very many of those reforms were useful and necessary, just and wholesome. It appears, however, sometimes, that barbarous abuses thus hastily and precipitately removed, soon reappear under other forms and denominations. This may easily be the case, where those useful and necessary reforms are confined to the outward surface, and do not penetrate to the roots, and internal essence of things.--It is worthy of remark, that in the absence of solid and positive principles, the mere removal of abuses--a mere negative course of conduct, will never alone attain the desired end, nor is it in itself always safe and certain. Soon a rash and passionate precipitancy will be apparent in the conduct of affairs--the standard and real term of our exertions will be lost sight of, and things will fall into a ruinous course; and such is the character of that period of transition from the age of illuminism to the time of the French Revolution. Was there a single object, not only in the questions relating to humanity, but in the whole department of public life and general belief, in religion and in government, which was not soon regarded as a prejudice or an abuse?

In Germany, when the Empress Maria Theresa ascended the Imperial throne, the long established peace of the empire, which it had once cost such efforts to secure and preserve, appeared to the new school of philosophy, a ridiculous prejudice of unenlightened, pedantic Burghers of state. But fifty years afterwards, during the atheistic and revolutionary period of the French philosophy, immediately prior to the French Revolution, as well as at its commencement, Christianity, and in fact all religion, was considered as a mere prejudice of the infancy of the human mind, totally destitute of foundation in truth, and no longer adapted to the spirit of the age; monarchy and the whole civilization of modern Europe as abuses no longer to be tolerated. It was only when men had reached this extreme term of their boasted enlightenment, that a re-action took place. But prior to this, towards the middle of the eighteenth century, and in the ten years immediatedly subsequent, the spirit of the age bore all before it in its irresistible progress. As in ancient times, monarchs had competed for the title of Most Christian, or Most Catholic, so now the potentates pre-eminent for power and understanding, were flattered by the title of enlightened. It is not without a great shock to our feelings, we contemplate the close intimacy which subsisted between a monarch grown grey in the toils of war and the cares of state, a powerful Empress of a Northern court, and the most depraved champions of French infidelity. With respect to the third of those eminent potentates of the age of illuminism, Joseph II., it has never been denied by those most competent to form a correct opinion on this subject, that among the various measures and regulations passed in the short reign of that active emperor, although some are not entitled to the same praise, yet many were really adapted to the exigencies of the age, and have been attended with the most beneficial consequences to industry and to intellectual cultivation. But the serious turn which things afterwards took, the universal convulsion, and remodelling of the world, have long fully demonstrated, that not one or two only, but many of the most active and enlightened sovereigns of that age, yielded far too much to the prevailing principles of the time, and followed too readily the spirit of that age in its wild, rapid, and all-destructive career.

To the many elements of internal ferment already existing in France, the imitation of English manners under the Regent, which was soon succeeded by an imitation of English literature and philosophy, added a source of equal danger. For to maintain within certain prescribed limits this English philosophy that reduces everything to the experience of sensation, the French wanted that sense of equilibrium innate in the English, and which their constitution had rendered almost instinctive to them; and by means of which in philosophy, as in their internal government, and in their relations with Foreign states, they can keep within bounds; and with them a philosophy, however unspiritual and ungodly, does not so rapidly rush into a headlong and destructive course, as it did in France and in Europe during the atheistical and revolutionary period of literature and science; for the deadly influence of this spirit was not confined to France--the land of its birth--but spread over every country. This is the important and essential distinction between the philosophy of Locke or of Hume for example, which I before designated as the Protestantism of philosophy, in opposition to the thoroughly revolutionary philosophy of French atheism--for though the former by its opposition to all spiritual ideas is of a negative character, yet most of its partisans and champions contrive to make some sort of capitulation with divine faith, and to preserve a kind of belief in moral feeling. The French philosophy was in fact a new Pagan idolatry of nature, and even the most splendid discoveries of natural science, which might and ought to have pointed to a higher principle, were not contemplated in their true spirit, nor employed to proper advantage, but were even made the instruments of a fanatic hostility towards the Deity. Even among the comparatively better natural philosophers of France, materialism was too generally the basis of their science, and a sensual enthusiasm for nature too much the prevailing tone of their writings.

The more brilliant the talents which led the way in this new impious and Revolutionary career of the European mind, the more generally pernicious was the result. Such was the case with that scoffer, whose genius could adapt itself to all the forms, moods, and styles of the old French literature, and who wielding, as he did, with so masterly a hand the weapon of a lawless wit, directed it without intermission during his whole life against everything holy and venerable, of what nature and kind soever. As those errors are the most dangerous, which as containing a portion of truth, carry with them a greater power of conviction; so Rousseau has perhaps exercised a more fatal influence than that other spirit, who with his mockery polluted all things. We cannot precisely term him un-christian--at least such an epithet cannot be applied to him in the same unqualified and universal extent--and when compared with the Atomical philosophy and the Atheistical idolatry of nature, his fanatic worship of nature will be found of a more spiritual cast. The great eloquence of this man entitles him perhaps as clearly to the first rank among the orators of his nation during the eighteenth century, as Bossuet with very different religious principles holds in his own age. Eloquence less powerful than Rousseau's could not well have sufficed to draw his age into an admiration for that savage equality which he preached up--to have excited its enthusiasm for the state of the Caribees and the Iroquois, which, looking back with regret to man's original happiness in the pure freedom of nature, he represented as his proper destiny, utterly marred as he was, by European civilization. This was not a mere idle freak of imagination, such as any false enchantment of romance might display--but Rousseau endeavoured to demonstrate with all the rigid deductions of mathematical proof, the happy equality of the savage state; and with the most earnest conviction and blind fanaticism, his system was applied to the actual relations of life. The result was that period of godless freedom--freedom separated from God and from every divine principle whether of conduct or belief, and which, as usual, was soon succeeded by the false unity of a crushing despotism, equally hostile to every heavenly and exalted motive of human action. But such has been the frightfully accelerated march of events in these latter times, that the former stages of the Revolutionary course in ancient Rome--the attempt of the elder Brutus--the establishment of a Republic--the wars with the rival Carthage--the rapid career of military conquests--and the transition to despotism, down to Tiberius or Dioclesian--have been here traversed in the short period of scarcely one generation. It would be unjust always to term this the French Revolution, or to consider it exclusively as such--it was a general political malady--an universal epidemic of the age. In Holland and Belgium a Revolution had previously broken out--the Polish Revolution occurred about the same time; but though the Belgian, and more particularly the Polish Revolutions were of a totally different character from the French, they still presented to the turbulent spirit of the age, one example more of political commotion. But North America had been to France and the rest of Europe, the real school and nursery of all these Revolutionary principles. Natural contagion, or wilful propagation spread this disorder over many other countries--but France continued to be the centre and general focus of Revolution.

Even when the whole power of the Revolution had been concentrated in the person of a single man, its general march was not materially changed. With respect to Foreign states and countries, the French Revolution produced a protracted religious war of twenty-one years; for it was such not only from its origin, but from its Revolutionary and destructive character, and from its fanatic opposition to everything holy. There was a fixed principle at the bottom of this modern Paganism. It was political idolatry--and it matters little what may be the immediate object of this idolatry--what the idol of the day, whether a Republic and the goddess of reason--the grande nation--or the lust of conquest and the glory of arms. It is still the same demon of political destruction--the same anti-Christian spirit of government, which wishes to mislead the age, and control the world. The great religious war, which has desolated all Europe, can be finally terminated only by a new and general religious peace:--but the great gulph of perdition to our age is that political idolatry, whatever shape it may assume--whatever name it may bear. Until that idolatry be abolished, until that abyss of ruin be closed up, the house of the Lord, where peace and righteousness embrace each other, can never be founded on a renovated earth.

[13] Prussia.

[14] Bavaria.

[15] The Treaty of Westphalia.

[16] Saxony.

[17] The passing of the Catholic Relief Bill has
happily rendered this observation obsolete.--_Trans._

[18] Peter the Great.

[19] The late Emperor Alexander.

END OF LECTURE XVII.

LECTURE XVIII.

On the general spirit of the age, and on the universal
Regeneration of Society.

"I come soon, and will renew all things."

There are in the history of the eighteenth century, many phenomena which occurred so suddenly, so instantaneously, so contrary to all expectation, that although on deeper consideration we may discover their efficient causes in the past, in the natural state of things, and in the general situation of the world, yet are there many circumstances which prove that there was a deliberate, though secret, preparation of events, as, indeed, in many instances has been actually demonstrated. I must now say a few words on this secret and mysterious branch of Illuminism, and on the progress it made during the period of its sway, in order to complete the sketch of that period, and to shew the influence of this principle, both in regard to the origin and general spirit of the Revolution, (which in its fanaticism believed itself a regeneration of the world), and in regard to the true restoration of society founded on the basis of Christian justice. But there is this peculiar circumstance in this historical enquiry, that those who as eye-witnesses could best speak from their personal experience, cannot always be considered the most credible vouchers; for we never know, or can know what their particular views and interests may lead them to say or conceal, to suppress wholly or in part. However it has so happened, that in the universal convulsion and overthrow of society, many things have come to light on this mysterious and esoteric clue in modern history--things which when combined together, furnish us with a not incorrect, and a tolerably complete idea of this mighty element of the Revolution, and of Illuminism both true and false, which has exercised so evident and various an influence on the world. And it is only on such historical grounds (which are quite sufficient for our purpose, and can alone be made the matter of consideration here), I am at all competent to pronounce an opinion on this subject, or, as I should rather say, to give an account of this event; and it is from historical sources, references and facts alone, that the following sketch has been taken.

As to the origin of this esoteric influence, the impartial historical enquirer cannot doubt (whatever motives or views some may have to deny the fact, or throw doubt on its authenticity), that the order of Templars was the channel by which this society in its ancient and long preserved form was introduced into the West. The religious _Masonic_ symbols may be accounted for by the Solomonian traditions connected with the very foundation of the order of Templars; and indeed the occasion of these symbols may be traced in other passages of Holy Writ, and in other parts of sacred history, and they may very well admit of a Christian interpretation. Traces of these symbols may be found in the monuments of the old German architecture of the middle age. Any secret spiritual association, however, diffused at once among Christians and Mahometans, cannot be of a very Christian nature, nor long continue so. Nay the very idea of an esoteric society for the propagation of any secret doctrines is not compatible with the very principle of Christianity itself; for Christianity is a divine mystery, which according to the intention of its divine Founder, lies open to all, and is daily exposed on every altar. For this reason, in a Revelation imparted to all alike, there can be no secrecy, as in the Pagan mysteries, where by the side of the popular mythology and the public religion of the state, certain esoteric doctrines were inculcated to the initiated only. This would be to constitute a church within a church--a measure to be as little tolerated or justified, as an Imperium in Imperio; and in an age where worldly interests and public or secret views of policy have far greater ascendancy than religious opinions or sentiments, such a secret parasitical church would unquestionably, as experience has already proved, be very soon transformed into a secret directory for political changes and Revolutions. That in this society the un-christian principles of a negative Illuminism, veiled as they often were in sentiments of universal philanthropy, were of a date tolerably modern, all historical analogies would lead us to suppose. On the other hand, the Christian opinions which survived in this order, (though in our times, amid the innumerable factions which have agitated this society by their contests, the adherents to Christian principles form a small minority of its members,) the Christian opinions surviving in this order partook, conformably to the historical origin I have assigned, more of an oriental and Gnostic character. The great, or at least, not inconsiderable influence which this society exercises in politics, we may discover in those Revolutions, which after having convulsed our quarter of the globe, have rolled onwards to the new world, where the two principal Revolutionary factions in one of those South American states, whose troubles are not yet terminated, are called the Scots and the Yorkists, from the two parties which divide the English Masonic lodges. Who does not know, or who does not remember, that the ruler of the world in the period just passed, made use of this vehicle in all the countries he conquered, to delude and deceive the nations with false hopes. And on this account he was styled by his partisans the man of his age, and in fact he was a slave to the spirit of his age. A society, from whose bosom, as from the secret laboratory of Revolution, the Illuminés, the Jacobins, and the Carbonari, have successively proceeded, cannot possibly be termed, or be in fact very beneficial to mankind, politically sound, or truly Christian in its views and tendency. Still I must here observe, that it has been the fate of the oldest of all secret societies, that its venerable forms which are known to all the initiated, should serve as a cloak to every new conspiracy. In the next place, we must not forget that this order itself appears to be split and divided into a multitude of different sects and factions; and that on this account we must not suppose that all those fearful aberrations, and wild excesses of impiety, all those openly destructive or secretly undermining principles of Revolution were universally approved of by this society. On the contrary, such a supposition would be utterly false, or at least, very exaggerated. The mere notice of all the highly estimable characters, mistaken but on this point--of most distinguished and illustrious personages in the eighteenth century, members of this association,--would suffice to annul, or at least materially modify, this sweeping censure. From many indications, we may consider it certain, or at least extremely probable, that in no country did this esoteric society so well harmonize with the state and the whole established order of things, as in that country where all the conflicting elements of morals and society are brought into a sort of strange and artificial equipoise--I mean England. If now we turn our view to the Continent of Europe, and even to those countries which were the chief theatre of the Revolution, we shall see that there, among many other factions, a Christian party had sprung up in this society--a party which, though it formed a very small minority in point of numbers, possessed by its profounder doctrines, and the interesting fragments of ancient tradition it had preserved, a great moral ascendancy; and this many historical facts, and many written documents, which have since obtained publicity, place beyond the shadow of a doubt. Instead of bringing forward the names of some German writers less generally known, I prefer to allege, in confirmation of what I have said, the example of a French writer, who well denotes the internal and more hidden character of the Revolution. The Christian theosophist, St. Martin, who was a disciple of this school, stands in his age quite apart from the other organs of the then prevailing Atheistical philosophy. He was however a most decided Revolutionist, (but a disinterested fanatic, guided entirely in his conduct by high and moral motives), from his utter contempt and abhorrence for the whole moral and political system of Europe, as it then stood--a contempt in which, if we cannot entirely agree with him, we cannot in many instances withhold from him at least a sort of negative approbation--and, secondly, he was a Revolutionist by his enthusiastic hope of a complete Christian regeneration of society, conceived indeed according to his own views, or the views of his party. Among the French writers of the Restoration, none have so thoroughly understood this remarkable philosopher, and so well known how to appreciate him in all the depths of his errors, as well as in the many excellent things which his writings contain, and to apply to him the necessary corrections, as Count Maistre.

This secret clue in the history of the Revolution must not be overlooked, if we would wish to form a due estimate of its character; for it greatly contributed to the illusion of many, by no means ill-intentioned persons, who saw or wished to see in the Revolution but the inevitable, necessary, though in its origin, harsh and severe, regeneration of Christian states and nations, then so widely gone off from their original destination. This illusive notion of a false restoration of society was particularly prevalent during the Imperial sway of that extraordinary man, whose true biography--I mean the high moral law of his destiny, or the theological key to his life--seems still to exceed the critical powers of our age. Seven years were allotted him for the growth of his power--for fourteen years the world was delivered over into his hands; and seven years were left him for solitary reflection, the first of which he misemployed in embroiling the world anew. On the use he made of the extraordinary power that had been imparted to him---of that formidable dominion which had fallen to his lot, history has long pronounced her sentence. Never is such power permitted but in the period of, and with a view to, some awful reckoning, and a still more fearful probation of mankind. But if his Restoration--that is to say, the Restoration which his infatuated partisans attributed to him, was most certainly a false one;--the question naturally occurs, whether the Restoration attempted by his successors has been perfectly sound, or at least quite complete; and what may be the defects in the new system, and how they may be supplied?

A mere treaty of territorial arrangements could not and can never constitute a great religious and international pacification for the whole of Europe. The re-establishment of subverted thrones--the Restoration of exiled sovereigns and dynasties, will not in themselves have any security nor permanence, unless based on moral principles and maxims. After the severe unexpected lesson again inflicted on Europe, religion was at last made the basis of European policy; and we must not make it a matter of reproach, that this principle still retained so indefinite a character; for this was necessary at the beginning at least, in order to remove any misconception, or any possible suspicion of interested views. And not only doth the stability and future existence of the whole Christian and civilized world depend on this bond of religious confederacy,--which we can only hope may be ever more and more firmly knit--but every great power in particular is more especially called upon to take a part therein. That the moral strength and stability of the Russian Empire mainly depends on religion--that every departure from its sacred spirit must have the most fatal effects on its whole system, has already been declared by her late monarch, distinguished alike in adverse and in prosperous fortune, an axiom of state-policy, and can scarcely ever be again forgotten. But in that country, where the elements of Protestantism (to use that word in its most comprehensive signification) obtained such weight in the outset of its literary refinement, and are so incorporated with the whole political system of the state, the toleration extended to every form of worship, should not be withheld from that church, which is the mother-church of the rest of Europe, and of Poland inclusively;[20] nor should the religious liberty of individuals be in that respect at all restricted.

It is equally evident that in that country of Europe where monarchy has been restored, the restoration of religion must go hand in hand with that of monarchy, and that the latter would lose all security were the former removed. In the pacific monarchy,[21] unchangeably attached as she is to her ancient principles, religion has ever been, more than any other principle, the recognised basis of her existence. As to the fifth[22] Germanico-European monarchy recently created, the solid maintenance of religion is the only means to allay the disquiet incident to such a state, and to secure its future existence. Any act of even indirect hostility towards the Catholic body--one half of the nation[23]--any infringement on the liberty of individuals in that sacred concern--a liberty which must be guaranteed not only by the letter of the law, but by real, effective and practical measures--would not only be in utter opposition to those religious principles, rapidly spreading as they are in all Europe, and particularly in Germany; but would violate and render insecure the great fundamental and long established principle of toleration; as has hitherto been acknowledged. It is only in England that Anglicanism has raised her doubts as to the utility of a religious fraternity among the Christian states and nations--doubts which are connected with the still exclusively Protestant character of the English Constitution, and which on many occasions may lead England to a sort of schismatical rupture with the rest of Europe. On several occasions we must contemplate with regret, how that mighty England, in the eighteenth century so brilliant and so powerful by the sway she exerted over the whole European mind, no longer seems to feel herself at home in the nineteenth century, nor to know where to find her place in the new order of things.

But as respects Europe at large, the maxims and principles of liberalism are only a partial return to the Revolution--they can have no other tendency but to Revolution. Liberalism will never obtain a majority among the well-thinking persons of any of the European states, except by some gross error--some singular degeneracy in that party, which really does not constitute a party, and ought not to be called such--I mean the men who in politics are attached to monarchy, and in religion to Christianity.

The mere principle of a mechanical Balance of Power to serve as a negative check on overgrown dominion--a system which emanated from England, and was in the eighteenth century universally received--has ceased to be applicable, or to be of service to the existing state of things in Europe; for all the remedies which it can offer, tend only to aggravate the evil when it has once occurred. In religion alone are to be found the remedies and the safeguards, the emancipation and consolidation of the whole civilized world, as well as of every particular state. The most imminent danger to our age, and the possible abuse of religion itself, are the excesses of the absolute. Great is the danger, when in a vindictive spirit of re-action, a revolutionary conduct is adopted by the party of legitimacy; when passion itself is consecrated into a maxim of reason, and held up as the only valid and just mode of proceeding; and when, the sacredness of religion itself is hawked about as some fashionable opinion; as if the world-redeeming power of faith and truth consisted in the mere dead letter, and in the recited formula. True life can spring only from the vivifying spirit of eternal truth. In science the absolute is the abyss which swallows up the living truth, and leaves behind only the hollow idea, and the dead formula. In the political world the absolute in conduct and speculation is that false spirit of time, opposed to all good and to the fulness of divine truth, which in a great measure rules the world, and may entirely rule it, and lead it for ever to its final ruin. As errors would not be dangerous or deceptive, and would have little effect, unless they contained a portion or appearance of truth; this false spirit of time which successively assumes all forms of destruction, since it has abandoned the path of eternal truth, consists in this--it withdraws particular facts from their historical connection, and holds them up as the centre and term of a system, without any limitation, and without any regard to historical circumstances. The true foundation, and the right term of things, in the history of society as in the lives of individuals, cannot be thus severed from their historical connection, and their place in the natural order of events. In any speculation or enterprise conducted by this passionate spirit of exaggeration, the living spirit must evaporate, and only the dead and deadening formula survive. What idols may successively be worshipped by the changing spirit of time which easily bounds from one extreme to another, cannot be determined before-hand. It is even possible that for a while eternal truth itself may be profaned and perverted to such an idol of the day--I mean the counterfeit form of truth;--for the spirit of time, however it may assume the garb, can never attain the inward essence and living energy of truth. Whatever may be the alternate idol, and the reigning object of its worship, or of its passionate rhetoric, it still remains essentially the same--that is to say, the absolute, alike deadening to intellect, and destructive to life. In science, the absolute is the idol of vain and empty systems, of dead and abstract reason.

The Christian faith has the living God and his revelation for its object, and is itself that revelation; hence every doctrine taken from this source is something real and positive. The defence of truth against error will then only be attended with permanent success, when the divine doctrine, in whatever department it may be, is represented with intellectual energy as a living principle; and at the same time placed in its historical connection, with a due regard to every other historical reality. This calm, historical judgment of things--this acute insight into subjects, whether they be real facts or intellectual phenomena--is the invariable concomitant of truth, and the indispensable condition to the full knowledge of truth. This is the more so, indeed, as religion, which forms the basis of all truth, and of all knowledge, naturally traces with attentive eye the mysterious clue of Divine Providence and Divine permission through the long labyrinth of human errors and human follies, be they of a practical or a speculative nature. Error, on the other hand, is always unhistorical; the spirit of time almost always passionate; and both consequently untrue. The conflict against error cannot be brought to a prompter and more successful issue, than by separating in every system of moral and speculative error, and according to the standard of divine truth, the absolute, which is the basis of such systems, into its two component parts of truth and falsehood. For when we acknowledge and point out the truth to be found in those systems, there only remains error, whose inanity it requires little labour, little cost of talent, or time to expose and make evident to every eye. But in real life the struggle of parties often ceases to be purely intellectual--their physical energy is displayed in violent commotions; and in proportion as all parties become absolute, so their struggle becomes one of violent and mutual destruction--a circumstance which most fatally impedes the great work of religious regeneration--the mighty problem of our age, which so far from being brought to a satisfactory termination, is not yet even solved. In this respect it is no doubt a critical fact, that in certain quarters of European life, nay even in some entire countries, parties and governments should be more and more carried away by the spirit of absolutism. For this is not a question of names, and it is very evident that not those parties, which are called, or call themselves absolute, are the most so in reality; since now, as in all periods of violent party struggles, a whimsical mistake in names, a great disorder of ideas, and a Babel confusion of tongues, occur even in those languages otherwise distinguished for their clearness and precision.

Fixedness of principle, consistency in reasoning, firmness of character, and the severe, dogmatic precision of faith, as these are the qualities which form the best test of man in the intercourse of life, so they ought by no means to be confounded with absolutism either in conduct or speculation; for all these qualities are very compatible with the calm historical judgment of things, and a conscientious regard for all historical circumstances. Among the French writers of recent times who have devoted themselves to the task of the religious regeneration of the public mind, no one possesses the above-named qualities in a higher, or in so remarkable a degree, as Count Maistre; and yet of all the writers of this class, he is the least open to the charge of promoting a passionate spirit of reaction; and in my own opinion, he must be entirely acquitted of such an imputation. Some more rhetorical defenders, however, of religion in France, cannot certainly be entirely absolved from the charge of favouring this absolute and exaggerated spirit of re-action; and so they unquestionably, even more than their opponents, injure the cause which they wish to defend. But many imputations of this sort which party spirit has alleged, are entirely without foundation; as when the opposition in the country I speak of, extends to the government, and to all the different ministries since the Restoration, the charge of political absolutism, and of a spirit of re-action; every one must clearly see that no cause has really been given for such imputations. And that in a country where the most hostile parties and all conceivable opinions are tolerated, a small number of Jesuits should partake of the general toleration, is a circumstance that can excite blame, jealousy and hypocritical alarm, only in the breasts of men animated by the unjust and vindictive spirit of faction. To the distant and impartial observer, the greatest and most imminent danger to France appears to be a relapse to Revolution by means of liberalism.[24]

The dogmatic decision and definiteness of Catholic faith on the one hand, and the firmly rooted private convictions of Protestantism on the other, are very compatible with an historical judgment of historical events. Difficult as this may appear to the absolute spirit of our age, it is this very historical impartiality which must prepare the way for the complete triumph of truth, and the consummate glory of Christianity. And it is in this consists the great distinction between true toleration and the fatal indifferentism of our age, and of the age immediately preceding. True toleration is founded on the humble and consequently religious principle and firm hope, that while one leaves in quiet what has already an historical existence, God will conduct and arrange all things, and bring them to their appointed end. This is widely remote from that pretended equality of all religions, provided they inculcate but a good morality--a system which strikes at the root of all religion. Intolerance, on the other hand, is grounded in the proud, and therefore impious opinion, that it can mould all things to what it fancies they ought to be, without any regard to the limits of human weakness--and without reflecting that what is put down by outward force, not unfrequently grows up in secret in an altered, though still more dangerous, form. Of this truth, it would not be difficult to adduce many historical proofs.

In the absolute spirit of our age, and in the absolute character of its factions, there is a deep-rooted intellectual pride, which is not so much personal or individual, as social, for it refers to the historical destiny of mankind, and of this age in particular. Actuated by this pride, a spirit exalted by moral energy, or invested with external power, fancies it can give a real existence to that which can only be the work of God: as from him alone proceed all those mighty, and real regenerations of the world, among which Christianity--a revolution in the high and divine sense of the word--occupies the first place; and in these plastic moments, every thing is possible that man can wish or dare to hope, if in what he adds on his own part, he mars not much in what the bounteous monarch of the universe, from the overflowings of his ineffable love, outpours upon his earth. For the last three hundred years this human pride has been at work--a pride that wishes to originate events, instead of humbly awaiting them, and of resting contented with the place assigned to it among those events, and of making the best and most charitable use of those circumstances which Providence has decreed.

What I said before with regard to the Reformation may be equally applied to the principle and period of Illuminism. The idea itself is perfectly blameless, and it is unfair to pronounce on it an indiscriminate censure, and to treat it as an unqualified abuse. It was indeed but a very small portion of this illuminism of the eighteenth century, that was really derived from the truths of Christianity, and the pure light of Revelation. The rest was the mere work of man, consequently vain and empty, or at least defective, corrupt in parts, and, on the whole, destitute of a solid foundation, and therefore devoid of all permanent strength and duration.

But when once, after the complete victory of truth, the divine Reformation shall appear;--then that human Reformation, which till now hath existed, will sink to the ground, and disappear from the world. Then by the universal triumph of Christianity, and the thorough religious regeneration of the age, of the world, and of governments themselves, will dawn the era of a true Christian _Illuminism_. This period is not perhaps so remote from our own, as the natural indolence of the human mind, which after every great occurrence, loves to sink again into the death-sleep of ordinary life, would be disposed to believe. Yet must this exalted religious hope--this high historical expectation be coupled with great apprehension, as to the full display of divine justice in the world. For how is such a religious regeneration possible, until every species, form, and denomination of political idolatry be eradicated, and entirely extirpated from the earth?

Never was there a period that pointed so strongly, so clearly, so generally towards the future, as our own. On this account we should endeavour clearly and accurately to distinguish between what on the one hand man may by slow, progressive, but unweared exertions--by the pacific adjustment of all disputed points--and by the cultivation of his intellectual qualities, contribute towards the great work of the religious regeneration of government and science--and what on the other hand he should look for in silent awe from a higher Providence--from the new creative fiat of a last period of consummation, unable as he is to produce or call it forth. We are directed much more towards the future than towards the past;--but in order to comprehend in all its magnitude the problem of our age, it sufficeth not that we should seek this social regeneration in the eighteenth century--an age in no respect entitled to praise--or in the reign of Lewis the Fourteenth, and his times of false national glory. The birth of Christianity must be the great point of survey to which we must recur, not to bring back, or counterfeit the forms of ages past, which are no longer applicable to our own; but clearly to examine what has remained incomplete, what has not yet been attained. For unquestionably, all that has been neglected in the earlier periods and stages of Christian civilization, must be made good in this true, consummate regeneration of society. If truth is to obtain a complete victory--if Christianity is really to triumph on the earth--then must the state become Christian, and science become Christian. But these two objects have never been generally, nor completely realized; although during the many ages mankind have been Christian, they have struggled for the attainment of both; and though this political struggle and this intellectual aspiration form the purport of modern history. The Roman Empire, even after the true religion had become predominant, was too thoroughly and radically corrupt, ever to form a truly Christian state. The sound, unvitiated natural energy of the Germanic nations, seemed far better fitted for such a destiny, after they had received from Christianity a high religious consecration for this purpose. There was, if we may so speak, in the interior of each state, as well as in the general system of Christendom, a most magnificent foundation laid for a truly Christian structure of government. But this ground-work remained unfinished, after the internal divisions in the state, then the divisions between church and state, and lastly, the divisions in the church and in religion itself, had interrupted the successful beginnings of a most glorious work.

The ecclesiastical writers of the first ages furnish a solid foundation for all the future labours of Christian science; but their science does not comprehend all the branches of human knowledge. In the middle age, undoubtedly, this foundation of a Christian science, laid down by the early fathers, was slowly prosecuted and in detail; but on the whole, many hurtful influences of the time had reduced science and speculation to a very low ebb, when suddenly in the fifteenth century all the literary treasures of ancient Greece, and all the new discoveries in geography and physics, were offered to philosophy. Scarcely had philosophy begun to examine these mighty stores of ancient and modern science, in order to give them a Christian form, and to appropriate them to the use of religion and modern society, when the world again broke out into disputes; and this noble beginning of a Christian philosophy was interrupted, and has since remained an unfinished fragment for a later and a happier period. Such then is the two-fold problem of a real and complete regeneration which our age is called upon to solve;--on one hand, the further extension of Christian government, and of Catholic principles of legislation, in opposition to the Revolutionary spirit of the age, and to the anti-Christian principle of government hitherto so exclusively prevalent; and on the other hand the establishment of a Christian philosophy, or Catholic science. As I before characterized the political spirit of the eighteenth century by the term--Protestantism of state (taking that word in a purely philosophic sense, and not as a religious designation)--a system which found its one main support in an old Catholic Empire;[25] and as I characterized the intellectual spirit of the same age by the term Protestantism of science;--a science which made the greatest progress and exerted the widest influence in another[26] great Catholic country; systems in which nothing irreligious was originally intended, but which became so by their too exclusive or negative bearing: so I may here permit myself to say, in like manner, that the destiny of this age--the peculiar want of the nineteenth century, is the establishment of those Catholic principles of government, and the general construction of a Catholic system of science. This expression is used in a mere scientific sense, and refers to all that is positively and completely religious in thought and feeling. In the certain conviction that this cannot be misunderstood in an exclusive or polemical sense, I will expressly add that this foundation of Catholic legislation for the future political existence of Europe may be laid by one, or more than one, non-catholic power; and that I even cherish the hope, that it is our own Germany, one half whereof is Protestant, which more than any other country is destined to complete the fabric of Catholic science, and of a true Christian philosophy in all the departments of human knowledge.

The religious hope of a true and complete regeneration of the age, by a Christian system of government and a Christian system of science, forms the conclusion to this Philosophy of History. The bond of a religious union between all the European states will be more closely knit, and be more comprehensive, in proportion as each nation advances in the work of its own religious regeneration, and carefully avoids all relapse to the old revolutionary spirit--all worship of the false idols of mistaken freedom, or illusive glory, and rejects every other new form or species of political idolatry. For it is the very nature of political idolatry to lead to the mutual destruction of parties, and consequently it can never possess the elements of stability.

Philosophy, as it is the vivifying centre of all other sciences, must be the principal concern and the highest object of the labours of Christian science. Yet history, which is so closely and so variously connected with religion, must by no means be forgotten, nor must historical research be separated from philosophic speculation. On the contrary, it is the religious spirit and views already pervading the combined efforts of historical learning and philosophic speculation, that chiefly distinguish this new era of a better intellectual culture, or as I should rather express myself, this first stage of a return to the great religious restoration. And I may venture to assert that this spirit, at least in the present century, has become ever more and more the prevailing characteristic of German science, and on this science, in its relation to the moral wants, and spiritual calling of the nineteenth century, I have now a few observations to make. Like an image reflected in a mirror, or like those symptoms which precede and announce a crisis in human events, the centre-point of all government, or the religious basis of legislation, is sure to be reflected in the whole mental culture, or in the most remarkable intellectual productions of a nation. In England, the equilibrium of a constitution that combines in itself so many conflicting elements, is reflected in its philosophy. The revolutionary spirit was prevalent in the French literature of the eighteenth century long before it broke out in real life; and the struggle is still very animated between the intellectual defenders and champions of the monarchical and religious Restoration, and of the newly awakened liberal opposition. In like manner, as the German people were, and still are, half Catholic and half Protestant, it is religious peace which in all literature, and particularly in philosophy, forms the basis of their modern intellectual culture. The mere æsthetic part of German letters, as regards art and poetry,--that artist-like enthusiasm peculiar to our nation--the struggles which convulsed the infancy of our literature--the successive imitation and rejection of the French and English models--the very general diffusion of classical learning--the newly enkindled love for our native speech, and for the early history of our country, and its elder monuments of art--all these are subjects of minor interest in the European point of view we here take, and form but the prelude and introduction to that higher German science and philosophy, which is now more immediately the subject of our enquiries. Historical research should never be separated from any philosophy, still less from the German; as historical erudition is the most effectual counterpoise to that absolute spirit, so prevalent in German science and German speculation.

Art and poetry constitute that department of intellect wherein every nation should mostly follow the impulse of its own spirit, its own feelings, and its own turn of fancy; and we must regard it as an exception when the poetry of any particular nation, (such, for instance, as that of the English at the present day), is felt and received by other nations as an European poetry. On the other hand, history is a sort of intellectual common open to all European nations. The English, who in this department were ever so active and distinguished, have, in very recent times, produced works on their own national history, which really merit the name of classical monuments of the new religious restoration. Science in general, and philosophy in particular, should never be exclusive or national--should never be called English or German--but should be general and European. And if this is not so entirely the case as in the nature of things it ought to be--we must ascribe it to the defects of particular forms. Of this truth the example of the French language may convince us; for no one will deny the metaphysical profundity of Count Maistre, or the dialectic perspicacity of the Viscount De Bonald. Although those absolute principles which appear to characterize the European nations at this time, have much less influence on real life and on the social relations in Germany than in any other country; yet the false spirit of the absolute seems to be quite native to German science and philosophy; and for a long period, has been the principal cause which has cramped the religious spirit and feelings so natural to the German character, or at least has given them a false direction.

With regard to religious opinions, Protestantism in Germany has not been split into a multitude of new, various, and jarring sects, as in other countries, such as England, Holland, and North America, where it was exclusively or for the most part predominant; for even the Hernhutters were not properly a sect. It is only very recently the Pietists have formed themselves into a party opposed to the Rationalists--but their doctrines are not sufficiently precise and determinate to constitute them a sect, according to the proper signification of that word. Pietism consists rather in a deep, though vague, sentiment of religion, and in a fusion of various and opposite religious views and doctrines. Undoubtedly this moral fusion of opinions, as well as that outward complication of the interests and doctrines of Catholicism and Protestantism, and of so many private views in matters of religion, produced many wild and fanciful abortions peculiar to the age; many pure idiosyncrasies among the Protestants, whether they made half advances towards the Catholic church, or pursued the opposite path of absolute individualism--or among the Catholics still more monstrous amalgamations--Protestant or semi-Protestant innovations in doctrine aimed at by individuals--innovations which originated in the principles of Illuminism, and were countenanced by the well-known policy of certain sovereigns. Much as we may feel disposed, or are even bound to oppose with all our might, such moral abortions, when the question regards their practical operation--yet I do not think we ought to pronounce an absolutely unfavourable judgment on their general intellectual tendency. The real primary evil of the eighteenth century--an utter indifference for all religious doctrines and concerns,--the dangerous spirit of complete indifferentism, from whose contagion many purely Catholic countries did not escape, took less strong hold in Germany, and obtained less general diffusion than in any other country. A deep, indelible religious feeling still continued to characterize the German nation, and to give a tone to its philosophical speculations. We should not pay too much attention to some transient and partial paradoxes:--I well recollect the words of an old, very experienced, pious, and enlightened ecclesiastic, who well understood the German character, and who used to say; "If we don't give a religion to the Germans, they will make one out for themselves."