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полная версияHistory of Civilization in England,  Vol. 2 of 3

Buckle Henry Thomas
History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

CHAPTER I
OUTLINE OF THE HISTORY OF THE FRENCH INTELLECT FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY TO THE ACCESSION TO POWER OF LOUIS XIV

The consideration of these great changes in the English mind, has led me into a digression, which, so far from being foreign to the design of this Introduction, is absolutely necessary for a right understanding of it. In this, as in many other respects, there is a marked analogy between investigations concerning the structure of society and investigations concerning the human body. Thus, it has been found, that the best way of arriving at a theory of disease is by beginning with the theory of health; and that the foundation of all sound pathology must be first sought in an observation, not of the abnormal, but of the normal functions of life. Just in the same way, it will, I believe, be found, that the best method of arriving at great social truths, is by first investigating those cases in which society has developed itself according to its own laws, and in which the governing powers have least opposed themselves to the spirit of their times.1 It is on this account that, in order to understand the position of France, I have begun by examining the position of England. In order to understand the way in which the diseases of the first country were aggravated by the quackery of ignorant rulers, it was necessary to understand the way in which the health of the second country was preserved by being subjected to smaller interference, and allowed with greater liberty to continue its natural march. With the light, therefore, which we have acquired by a study of the normal condition of the English mind, we can, with the greater ease, now apply our principles to that abnormal condition of French society, by the operations of which, at the close of the eighteenth century, some of the dearest interests of civilization were imperilled.

In France, a long train of events, which I shall hereafter relate, had, from an early period, given to the clergy a share of power larger than that which they possessed in England. The results of this were for a time decidedly beneficial, inasmuch as the church restrained the lawlessness of a barbarous age, and secured a refuge for the weak and oppressed. But as the French advanced in knowledge, the spiritual authority, which had done so much to curb their passions, began to press heavily upon their genius, and impede its movements. That same ecclesiastical power, which to an ignorant age is an unmixed benefit, is to a more enlightened age a serious evil. The proof of this was soon apparent. For when the Reformation broke out, the church had in England been so weakened, that it fell almost at the first assault; its revenues were seized by the crown,2 and its offices, after being greatly diminished both in authority and in wealth, were bestowed upon new men, who, from the uncertainty of their tenure, and the novelty of their doctrines, lacked that long-established prescription by which the claims of the profession are mainly supported. This, as we have already seen, was the beginning of an uninterrupted progress, in which, at every successive step, the ecclesiastical spirit lost some of its influence. In France, on the other hand, the clergy were so powerful, that they were able to withstand the Reformation, and thus preserve for themselves those exclusive privileges which their English brethren vainly attempted to retain.

This was the beginning of that second marked divergence between French and English civilization,3 which had its origin, indeed, at a much earlier period, but which now first produced conspicuous results. Both countries had, in their infancy, been greatly benefited by the church, which always showed itself ready to protect the people against the oppressions of the crown and the nobles.4 But in both countries, as society advanced, there arose a capacity for self-protection; and early in the sixteenth, or probably even in the fifteenth century, it became urgently necessary to diminish that spiritual authority, which, by prejudging the opinions of men, has impeded the march of their knowledge.5 It is on this account that Protestantism, so far from being, as its enemies have called it, an aberration arising from accidental causes, was essentially a normal movement, and was the legitimate expression of the wants of the European intellect. Indeed, the Reformation owed its success, not to a desire of purifying the church, but to a desire of lightening its pressure; and it may be broadly stated, that it was adopted in every civilized country, except in those where preceding events had increased the influence of the ecclesiastical order, either among the people or among their rulers. This was, unhappily, the case with France, where the clergy not only triumphed over the Protestants, but appeared, for a time, to have gained fresh authority by the defeat of such dangerous enemies.6

 

The consequence of all this was, that in France, every thing assumed a more theological aspect than in England. In our country, the ecclesiastical spirit had, by the middle of the sixteenth century, become so feeble, that even intelligent foreigners were struck by the peculiarity.7 The same nation, which, during the Crusades, had sacrificed innumerable lives in the hope of planting the Christian standard in the heart of Asia,8 was now almost indifferent to the religion even of its own sovereign. Henry VIII., by his sole will, regulated the national creed, and fixed the formularies of the church, which, if the people had been in earnest, he could not possibly have done; for he had no means of compelling submission; he had no standing army; and even his personal guards were so scanty, that at any moment they could have been destroyed by a rising of the warlike apprentices of London.9 After his death, there came Edward, who, as a Protestant king, undid the work of his father; and, a few years later, there came Mary, who, as a Popish queen, undid the work of her brother; while she, in her turn, was succeeded by Elizabeth, under whom another great alteration was effected in the established faith.10 Such was the indifference of the people, that these vast changes were accompanied without any serious risk.11 In France, on the other hand, at the mere name of religion, thousands of men were ready for the field. In England, our civil wars have all been secular; they have been waged, either for a change of dynasty, or for an increase of liberty. But those far more horrible wars, by which, in the sixteenth century, France was desolated, were conducted in the name of Christianity, and even the political struggles of the great families were merged in a deadly contest between Catholics and Protestants.12

The effect this difference produced on the intellect of the two countries is very obvious. The English, concentrating their abilities upon great secular matters, had, by the close of the sixteenth century, produced a literature which never can perish. But the French, down to that period, had not put forth a single work, the destruction of which would now be a loss to Europe. What makes this contrast the more remarkable is, that in France the civilization, such as it was, had a longer standing; the material resources of the country had been earlier developed; its geographical position made it the centre of European thought;13 and it had possessed a literature at a time when our ancestors were a mere tribe of wild and ignorant barbarians.

 

The simple fact is, that this is one of those innumerable instances which teach us that no country can rise to eminence so long as the ecclesiastical power possesses much authority. For, the predominance of the spiritual classes is necessarily accompanied by a corresponding predominance of the topics in which those classes delight. Whenever the ecclesiastical profession is very influential, ecclesiastical literature will be very abundant, and what is called profane literature will be very scanty. Hence it occurred, that the minds of the French, being almost entirely occupied with religious disputes, had no leisure for those great inquiries into which we in England were beginning to enter;14 and there was, as we shall presently see, an interval of a whole generation between the progress of the French and English intellects, simply because there was about the same interval between the progress of their scepticism. The theological literature, indeed, rapidly increased;15 but it was not until the seventeenth century that France produced that great secular literature, the counterpart of which was to be found in England before the sixteenth century had come to a close.

Such was, in France, the natural consequence of the power of the church being prolonged beyond the period which the exigencies of society required. But while this was the intellectual result, the moral and physical results were still more serious. While the minds of men were thus heated by religious strife, it would have been idle to expect any of those maxims of charity to which theological faction is always a stranger. While the Protestants were murdering the Catholics,16 and the Catholics murdering the Protestants, it was hardly likely that either sect should feel tolerance for the opinions of its enemy.17 During the sixteenth century, treaties were occasionally made between the two parties; but they were only made to be immediately broken;18 and, with the single exception of l'Hôpital, the bare idea of toleration does not seem to have entered the head of any statesman of the age. It was recommended by him;19 but neither his splendid abilities, nor his unblemished integrity, could make head against the prevailing prejudices, and he eventually retired into private life without effecting any of his noble schemes.20

Indeed, in the leading events of this period of French history, the predominance of the theological spirit was painfully shown. It was shown in the universal determination to subordinate political acts to religious opinions.21 It was shown in the conspiracy of Amboise, and in the conference of Poissy; and still more was it shown in those revolting crimes so natural to superstition, the massacres of Vassy and of St. Bartholomew, the murder of Guise by Poltrot, and of Henry III. by Clement. These were the legitimate results of the spirit of religious bigotry. They were the results of that accursed spirit, which, whenever it has had the power, has punished even to the death those who dared to differ from it; and which, now that the power has passed away, still continues to dogmatize on the most mysterious subjects, tamper with the most sacred principles of the human heart, and darken with its miserable superstitions those sublime questions that no one should rudely touch, because they are for each according to the measure of his own soul, because they lie in that unknown tract which separates the Finite from the Infinite, and because they are as a secret and individual covenant between Man and his God.

How long these sad days22 would, in the ordinary course of affairs, have been prolonged in France, is a question which we now perhaps have no means of answering; though there is no doubt that the progress even of empirical knowledge must, according to the process already pointed out, have eventually sufficed to rescue so great a country from her degraded position. Fortunately, however, there now took place what we must be content to call an accident, but which was the beginning of a most important change. In the year 1589, Henry IV. ascended the throne of France. This great prince, who was far superior to any of the French sovereigns of the sixteenth century,23 made small account of those theological disputes which his predecessors had thought to be of paramount importance. Before him, the kings of France, animated by the piety natural to the guardians of the church, had exerted all their authority to uphold the interests of the sacred profession. Francis I. said, that if his right hand were a heretic, he would cut it off.24 Henry II., whose zeal was still greater,25 ordered the judges to proceed against the Protestants, and publicly declared that he would ‘make the extirpation of the heretics his principal business.’26 Charles IX., on the celebrated day of St. Bartholomew, attempted to relieve the church by destroying them at a single blow. Henry III. promised to ‘oppose heresy even at the risk of his life;’ for he said, ‘he could not find a prouder grave than amidst the ruins of heresy.’27

These were the opinions expressed, in the sixteenth century, by the heads of the oldest monarchy in Europe.28 But with such feelings, the powerful intellect of Henry IV. had not the slightest sympathy. To suit the shifting politics of his age, he had already changed his religion twice; and he did not hesitate to change it a third time,29 when he found that by doing so he could ensure tranquillity to his country. As he had displayed such indifference about his own creed, he could not with decency show much bigotry about the creed of his subjects.30 We find, accordingly, that he was the author of the first public act of toleration which any government promulgated in France since Christianity had been the religion of the country. Only five years after he had solemnly abjured Protestantism, he published the celebrated Edict of Nantes,31 by which, for the first time, a Catholic government granted to heretics a fair share of civil and religious rights. This was, unquestionably, the most important event that had yet occurred in the history of French civilization.32 If it is considered by itself, it is merely an evidence of the enlightened principles of the king; but when we look at its general success, and at the cessation of religious war which followed it, we cannot fail to perceive that it was part of a vast movement, in which the people themselves participated. Those who recognize the truth of the principles I have laboured to establish, will expect that this great step towards religious liberty was accompanied by that spirit of scepticism, in the absence of which toleration has always been unknown. And that this was actually the case, may be easily proved by an examination of the transitionary state which France began to enter towards the end of the sixteenth century.

The writings of Rabelais are often considered to afford the first instance of religious scepticism in the French language.33 But, after a tolerably intimate acquaintance with the works of this remarkable man, I have found nothing to justify such an opinion. He certainly treats the clergy with great disrespect, and takes every opportunity of covering them with ridicule.34 His attacks, however, are always made upon their personal vices, and not upon that narrow and intolerant spirit to which those vices were chiefly to be ascribed. In not a single instance does he show any thing like consistent scepticism;35 nor does he appear to be aware that the disgraceful lives of the French clergy were but the inevitable consequence of a system, which, corrupt as it was, still possessed every appearance of strength and vitality. Indeed, the immense popularity which he enjoyed is, almost of itself, a decisive consideration; since no one, who is well informed as to the condition of the French early in the sixteenth century, will believe it possible that a people, so sunk in superstition, should delight in a writer by whom superstition is constantly attacked.

But the extension of experience, and the consequent increase of knowledge, were preparing the way for a great change in the French intellect. The process, which had just taken place in England, was now beginning to take place in France; and in both countries the order of events was precisely the same. The spirit of doubt, hitherto confined to an occasional solitary thinker, gradually assumed a bolder form: first it found a vent in the national literature, and then it influenced the conduct of practical statesmen. That there was, in France, an intimate connexion between scepticism and toleration, is proved, not only by those general arguments which make us infer that such connexion must always exist, but also by the circumstance, that only a few years before the promulgation of the Edict of Nantes, there appeared the first systematic sceptic who wrote in the French language. The Essays of Montaigne were published in 1588,36 and form an epoch, not only in the literature, but also in the civilization, of France. Putting aside personal peculiarities, which have less weight than is commonly supposed, it will be found that the difference between Rabelais and Montaigne is a measure of the difference between 154537 and 1588, and that it, in some degree, corresponds with the relation I have indicated between Jewel and Hooker, and between Hooker and Chillingworth. For, the law which governs all these relations is the law of a progressive scepticism. What Rabelais was to the supporters of theology, that was Montaigne to the theology itself. The writings of Rabelais were only directed against the clergy; but the writings of Montaigne were directed against the system of which the clergy were the offspring.38 Under the guise of a mere man of the world, expressing natural thoughts in common language, Montaigne concealed a spirit of lofty and audacious inquiry.39 Although he lacked that comprehensiveness which is the highest form of genius, he possessed other qualities essential to a great mind. He was very cautious, and yet he was very bold. He was cautious, since he would not believe strange things because they had been handed down by his forefathers; and he was bold, since he was undaunted by the reproaches with which the ignorant, who love to dogmatize, always cover those whose knowledge makes them ready to doubt.40 These peculiarities would, in any age, have made Montaigne a useful man: in the sixteenth century they made him an important one. At the same time, his easy and amusing style41 increased the circulation of his works, and thus contributed to popularize those opinions which he ventured to recommend for general adoption.

This, then, is the first open declaration of that scepticism, which, towards the end of the sixteenth century, publicly appeared in France.42 During nearly three generations, it continued its course with a constantly increasing activity, and developed itself in a manner similar to that which took place in England. It will not be necessary to follow all the steps of this great process; but I will endeavour to trace those which, by their prominence, seem to be the most important.

A few years after the appearance of the Essays of Montaigne, there was published in France a work, which though now little read, possessed in the seventeenth century a reputation of the highest order. This was the celebrated Treatise on Wisdom, by Charron, in which we find, for the first time, an attempt made in a modern language to construct a system of morals without the aid of theology.43 What rendered this book, in some respects, even more formidable than Montaigne's, was the air of gravity with which it was written. Charron was evidently deeply impressed with the importance of the task he had undertaken, and he is honourably distinguished from his contemporaries, by a remarkable purity both of language and of sentiment. His work is almost the only one of that age in which nothing can be found to offend the chastest ears. Although he borrowed from Montaigne innumerable illustrations,44 he has carefully omitted those indecencies into which that otherwise charming writer was often betrayed. Besides this, there is about the work of Charron a systematic completeness which never fails to attract attention. In originality, he was, in some respects, inferior to Montaigne; but he had the advantage of coming after him, and there can be no doubt that he rose to an elevation which, to Montaigne, would have been inaccessible. Taking his stand, as it were, on the summit of knowledge, he boldly attempts to enumerate the elements of wisdom, and the conditions under which those elements will work. In the scheme which he thus constructs, he entirely omits theological dogmas;45 and he treats with undissembled scorn many of those conclusions which the people had hitherto universally received. He reminds his countrymen that their religion is the accidental result of their birth and education, and that if they had been born in a Mohammedan country, they would have been as firm believers in Mohammedanism as they then were in Christianity.46 From this consideration, he insists on the absurdity of their troubling themselves about the variety of creeds, seeing that such variety is the result of circumstances over which they have no control. Also it is to be observed, that each of these different religions declares itself to be the true one;47 and all of them are equally based upon supernatural pretensions, such as mysteries, miracles, prophets, and the like.48 It is because men forget these things, that they are the slaves of that confidence which is the great obstacle to all real knowledge, and which can only be removed by taking such a large and comprehensive view, as will show us how all nations cling with equal zeal to the tenets in which they have been educated.49 And, says Charron, if we look a little deeper, we shall see that each of the great religions is built upon that which preceded it. Thus, the religion of the Jews is founded upon that of the Egyptians; Christianity is the result of Judaism; and, from these two last, there has naturally sprung Mohammedanism.50 We, therefore, adds this great writer, should rise above the pretensions of hostile sects, and, without being terrified by the fear of future punishment, or allured by the hope of future happiness, we should be content with such practical religion as consists in performing the duties of life; and, uncontrolled by the dogmas of any particular creed, we should strive to make the soul retire inward upon itself, and by the efforts of its own contemplation, admire the ineffable grandeur of the Being of beings, the supreme cause of all created things.51

Such were the sentiments which, in the year 1601, were for the first time laid before the French people in their own mother-tongue.52 The sceptical and secular spirit, of which they were the representatives, continued to increase; and, as the seventeenth century advanced, the decline of fanaticism, so far from being confined to a few isolated thinkers, gradually became common, even among ordinary politicians.53 The clergy, sensible of the danger, wished the government to check the progress of inquiry;54 and the pope himself, in a formal remonstrance with Henry, urged him to remedy the evil, by prosecuting the heretics, from whom he thought all the mischief had originally proceeded.55 But this the king steadily refused. He saw the immense advantages that would arise, if he could weaken the ecclesiastical power by balancing the two sects against each other;56 and therefore, though he was a Catholic, his policy rather leaned in favour of the Protestants, as being the weaker party.57 He granted sums of money towards the support of their ministers and the repair of their churches;58 he banished the Jesuits, who were their most dangerous enemies;59 and he always had with him two representatives of the reformed church, whose business it was to inform him of any infraction of those edicts which he had issued in favour of their religion.60

Thus it was, that in France, as well as in England, toleration was preceded by scepticism; and thus it was, that out of this scepticism there arose the humane and enlightened measures of Henry IV. The great prince, by whom these things were effected, unhappily fell a victim to that fanatical spirit which he had done much to curb;61 but the circumstances which occurred after his death, showed how great an impetus had been given to the age.

On the murder of Henry IV., in 1610, the government fell into the hands of the queen, who administered it during the minority of her son, Louis XIII. And it is a remarkable evidence of the direction which the mind was now taking, that she, though a weak and bigoted woman,62 refrained from those persecutions which, only one generation before, had been considered a necessary proof of religious sincerity. That, indeed, must have been a movement of no common energy, which could force toleration, early in the seventeenth century, upon a princess of the house of Medici, an ignorant and superstitious Catholic, who had been educated in the midst of her priests, and had been accustomed to look for their applause as the highest object of earthly ambition.

Yet this was what actually occurred. The queen continued the ministers of Henry IV., and announced, that in every thing she would follow his example.63 Her first public act was, a declaration, that the Edict of Nantes should be inviolably preserved; for, she says, ‘experience has taught our predecessors, that violence, so far from inducing men to return to the Catholic church, prevents them from doing so.’64 Indeed, so anxious was she upon this point, that when Louis, in 1614, attained his nominal majority, the first act of his government was another confirmation of the Edict of Nantes.65 And, in 1615, she caused the king, who still remained under her tutelage,66 to issue a declaration, by which all preceding measures in favour of the Protestants were publicly confirmed.67 In the same spirit, she, in 1611, wished to raise to the presidency of parliament the celebrated De Thou; and it was only by making a formal announcement of his heresy, that the pope succeeded in frustrating what he considered an impious design.68

The turn which things were now taking, caused no little alarm to the friends of the hierarchy. The most zealous churchmen loudly censured the policy of the queen; and a great historian has observed that when, during the reign of Louis XIII., such alarm was caused in Europe by the active encroachments of the ecclesiastical power, France was the first country that ventured to oppose them.69 The nuncio openly complained to the queen of her conduct in favouring heretics; and he anxiously desired that those Protestant works should be suppressed, by which the consciences of true believers were greatly scandalized.70 But these, and similar representations, were no longer listened to with the respect they would formerly have received; and the affairs of the country continued to be administered with those purely temporal views, on which the measures of Henry IV. had been avowedly based.71

Such was now the policy of the government of France; a government which, not many years before, had considered it the great duty of a sovereign to punish heretics and extirpate heresy. That this continued improvement was merely the result of the general intellectual development, is evident, not only from its success, but also from the character of the queen-regent and the king. No one who has read the contemporary memoirs, can deny that Mary de Medici and Louis XIII. were as superstitious as any of their predecessors; and it is, therefore, evident, that this disregard of theological prejudices was due, not to their own personal merits, but to the advancing knowledge of the country, and to the pressure of an age which, in the rapidity of its progress, hurried along those who believed themselves to be its rulers.

But these considerations, weighty as they are, will only slightly diminish the merit of that remarkable man, who now appeared on the stage of public affairs. During the last eighteen years of the reign of Louis XIII., France was entirely governed by Richelieu,72 one of that extremely small class of statesmen to whom it is given to impress their own character on the destiny of their country. This great ruler has, in his knowledge of the political art, probably never been surpassed, except by that prodigy of genius who, in our time, troubled the fortunes of Europe. But, in one important view, Richelieu was superior to Napoleon. The life of Napoleon was a constant effort to oppress the liberties of mankind; and his unrivalled capacity exhausted its resources in struggling against the tendencies of a great age. Richelieu, too, was a despot; but his despotism took a nobler turn. He displayed, what Napoleon never possessed, a just appreciation of the spirit of his own time. In one great point, indeed, he failed. His attempts to destroy the power of the French nobility were altogether futile;73 for, owing to a long course of events, the authority of that insolent class was so deeply rooted in the popular mind, that the labours of another century were required to efface its ancient influence. But, though Richelieu could not diminish the social and moral weight of the French nobles, he curtailed their political privileges; and he chastised their crimes with a severity which, for a time at least, repressed their former license.74 So little, however, can even the ablest statesman effect, unless he is seconded by the general temper of the age in which he lives, that these checks, rude as they were, produced no permanent result. After his death, the French nobles, as we shall presently see, quickly rallied; and, in the wars of the Fronde, debased that great struggle into a mere contest of rival families. Nor was it until the close of the eighteenth century, that France was finally relieved from the overweening influence of that powerful class, whose selfishness had long retarded the progress of civilization, by retaining the people in a thraldom, from the remote effects of which they have not yet fully recovered.

Although in this respect Richelieu failed in achieving his designs, he in other matters met with signal success. This was owing to the fact, that his large and comprehensive views harmonized with that sceptical tendency, of which I have just given some account. For this remarkable man, though he was a bishop and a cardinal, never for a moment allowed the claims of his profession to make him forego the superior claims of his country. He knew, what is too often forgotten, that the governor of a people should measure affairs solely by a political standard, and should pay no regard to the pretensions of any sect, or the propagation of any opinions, except in reference to the present and practical welfare of men. The consequence was, that, during his administration, there was seen the marvellous spectacle of supreme authority wielded by a priest, who took no pains to increase the power of the spiritual classes. Indeed, so far from this, he often treated them with what was then considered unexampled rigour. The royal confessors, on account of the importance of their functions, had always been regarded with a certain veneration; they were supposed to be men of unspotted piety; they had hitherto possessed immense influence, and even the most powerful statesmen had thought it advisable to show them the deference due to their exalted position.75 Richelieu, however, was too familiar with the arts of his profession, to feel much respect for these keepers of the consciences of kings. Caussin, the confessor of Louis XIII., had, it seems, followed the example of his predecessors, and endeavoured to instill his own views of policy into the mind of the royal penitent.76 But Richelieu, so soon as he heard of this, dismissed him from office, and sent him into exile; for, he contemptuously says, ‘the little father Caussin’ should not interfere in matters of government, since he is one of those ‘who have always been brought up in the innocence of a religious life.’77 Caussin was succeeded by the celebrated Sirmond; but Richelieu would not allow the new confessor to begin his duties, until he had solemnly promised never to interfere in state affairs.78

1The question as to whether the study of normal phenomena should or should not precede the study of abnormal ones, is of the greatest importance; and a neglect of it has introduced confusion into every work I have seen on general or comparative history. For this preliminary being unsettled, there has been no recognized principle of arrangement; and historians, instead of following a scientific method suited to the actual exigencies of our knowledge, have adopted an empirical method suited to their own exigencies; and have given priority to different countries, sometimes according to their size, sometimes according to their antiquity, sometimes according to their geographical position, sometimes according to their wealth, sometimes according to their religion, sometimes according to the brilliancy of their literature, and sometimes according to the facilities which the historian himself possessed for collecting materials. All these are factitious considerations; and, in a philosophic view, it is evident that precedence should be given to countries by the historian solely in reference to the ease with which their history can be generalized; following in this respect the scientific plan of proceeding from the simple to the complex. This leads us to the conclusion that, in the study of Man, as in the study of Nature, the question of priority resolves itself into a question of aberration; and that the more aberrant any people have been, that is to say, the more they have been interfered with, the lower they must be placed in an arrangement of the history of various countries. Coleridge (Lit. Remains, vol. i. p. 326, and elsewhere in his works) seems to suppose that the order should be the reverse of what I have stated, and that the laws both of mind and body can be generalized from pathological data. Without wishing to express myself too positively in opposition to so profound a thinker as Coleridge, I cannot help saying that this is contradicted by an immense amount of evidence, and, so far as I am aware, is supported by none. It is contradicted by the fact, that those branches of inquiry which deal with phenomena little affected by foreign causes, have been raised to sciences sooner than those which deal with phenomena greatly affected by foreign causes. The organic world, for example, is more perturbed by the inorganic world, than the inorganic world is perturbed by it. Hence we find that the inorganic sciences have always been cultivated before the organic ones, and at the present moment are far more advanced than they. In the same way, human physiology is older than human pathology; and while the physiology of the vegetable kingdom has been successfully prosecuted since the latter half of the seventeenth century, the pathology of the vegetable kingdom can scarcely be said to exist, since none of its laws have been generalized, and no systematic researches, on a large scale, have yet been made into the morbid anatomy of plants. It appears, therefore, that different ages and different sciences bear unconscious testimony to the uselessness of paying much attention to the abnormal, until considerable progress has been made in the study of the normal; and this conclusion might be confirmed by innumerable authorities, who, differing from Coleridge, hold that physiology is the basis of pathology, and that the laws of disease are to be raised, not from the phenomena presented in disease, but from those presented in health; in other words, that pathology should be investigated deductively rather than inductively, and that morbid anatomy and clinical observations may verify the conclusions of science, but can never supply the means of creating the science itself. On this extremely interesting question, compare Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Hist. des Anomalies de l'Organisation, vol. ii. pp. 9, 10, 127; Bowman's Surgery, in Encyclop. of the Medical Sciences, p. 824; Bichat, Anatomie Générale, vol. i. p. 20; Cullen's Works, vol. i. p. 424; Comte, Philos. Positive, vol. iii. pp. 334, 335; Robin et Verdeil, Chimie Anatomique, vol. i. p. 68; Esquirol, Maladies Mentales, vol. i. p. 111; Georget, de la Folie, pp. 2, 391, 392; Brodie's Pathology and Surgery, p. 3; Blainville, Physiologie comparée, vol. i. p. 20; Feuchtersleben's Medical Psychology, p. 200; Lawrence's Lectures on Man, 1844, p. 45; Simon's Pathology, p. 5. Another confirmation of the accuracy of this view is, that pathological investigations of the nervous system, numerous as they have been, have effected scarcely anything; the reason evidently being, that the preliminary knowledge of the normal state is not sufficiently advanced. See Noble on the Brain, pp. 76–92, 337, 338; Henry on the Nervous System, in Third Report of Brit. Assoc. p. 78; Holland's Medical Notes, p. 608; Jones and Sieveking's Patholog. Anat. p. 211.
2A circumstance which Harris relates with evident delight, and goes out of his way to mention it. Lives of the Stuarts, vol. iii. p. 300. On the amount of loss the church thus sustained, see Sinclair's Hist. of the Revenue, vol. i. pp. 181–184, and Eccleston's English Antiquities, p. 228.
3The first divergence arose from the influence of the protective spirit, as I shall endeavour to explain in the next chapter.
4On the obligations Europe is under to the Catholic clergy, see some liberal and very just remarks in Kemble's Saxons in England, vol. ii. pp. 374, 375; and in Guizot's Civilisation en France. See also Neander's Hist. of the Church, vol. iii. pp. 199–206, 255–257, vol. v. p. 138, vol. vi. pp. 406, 407; Palgrave's Anglo-Saxon Commonwealth, vol. i. p. 655; Lingard's Hist. of England, vol. ii. p. 44; Klimrath, Travaux sur l'Hist. du droit, vol. i. p. 394; Carwithen's Hist. of the Church of England, vol. i. p. 157.
5The way in which this acted is concisely stated by Tennemann: ‘Wenn sich nun auch ein freierer Geist der Forschung regte, so fand er sich gleich durch zwei Grundsätze, welche aus jenem Supremat der Theologie flossen, beengt und gehemmt. Der erste war: die menschliche Vernunft kann nicht über die Offenbarung hinausgehen… Der zweite: die Vernunft kann nichts als wahr erkennen, was dem Inhalte der Offenbarung widerspricht, und nichts für falsch erkennen, was derselben angemessen ist, – folgte aus dem ersten.’ Gesch. der Philos. vol. viii. part i. p. 8.
6As to the influence of the Reformation generally, in increasing the power of the Catholic clergy, see M. Ranke's important work on the History of the Popes; and as to the result in France, see Monteil, Hist. des divers Etats, vol. v. pp. 233–235. Corero, who was ambassador in France in 1569, writes, ‘Il papa può dire a mio giudizio, d'aver in questi romori piuttosto guadagnato che perduto, perciochè tanta era la licenza del vivere, secondo che ho inteso, prima che quel regno si dividesse in due parti, era tanta poca la devozione che avevano in Roma e in quei che vi abitavano, che il papa era più considerato come principe grande in Italia, che come capo della chiesa e pastore universale. Ma scoperti che si furono gli ugonotti, cominciarono i cattolici a riverire il suo nome, e riconoscerlo per vero vicario di Cristo, confirmandosi tanto più in opinione di doverlo tener per tale, quanto più lo sentivano sprezzare e negare da essi ugonotti.’ Relations des Ambassadeurs Vénitiens, vol. ii. p. 162. This interesting passage is one of many proofs that the immediate advantages derived from the Reformation have been overrated; though the remote advantages were undoubtedly immense.
7The indifference of the English to theological disputes, and the facility with which they changed their religion, caused many foreigners to censure their fickleness. See, for instance, Essais de Montaigne, livre ii. chap. xii. p. 365. Perlin, who travelled in England in the middle of the sixteenth century, says, ‘The people are reprobates, and thorough enemies to good manners and letters; for they don't know whether they belong to God or the devil, which St. Paul has reprehended in many people, saying, Be not transported with divers sorts of winds, but be constant and steady to your belief.’ Antiquarian Repertory, vol. iv. p. 511, 4to, 1809. See also the remarks of Michele in 1557, and of Crespet in 1590; Ellis's Original Letters, 2nd series, vol. ii. p. 239; Hallam's Constitutional History, vol. i. p. 102; Southey's Commonplace Book, 3rd series, p. 408.
8An historian of the thirteenth century strikingly expresses the theological feelings of the English crusaders, and the complete subordination of the political ones: ‘Indignum quippe judicabant animarum suarum salutem omittere, et obsequium cœlestis Regis, clientelæ regis alicujus terreni postponere; constituerunt igitur terminum, videlicet festum nativitatis beati Johannis Baptistæ.’ Matthæi Paris Historia Major, p. 671. It is said, that the first tax ever imposed in England on personal property was in 1166, and was for the purpose of crusading. Sinclair's Hist. of the Revenue, vol. i. p. 88: ‘It would not probably have been easily submitted to, had it not been appropriated for so popular a purpose.’
9Henry VIII. had, at one time, fifty horse-guards, but they being expensive, were soon given up; and his only protection consisted of ‘the yeomen of the guard, fifty in number, and the common servants of the king's household.’ Hallam's Const. Hist. vol. i. p. 46. These ‘yeomen of the guard were raised by Henry VII. in 1485.’ Grose's Military Antiquities, vol. i. p. 167. Compare Turner's Hist. of England, vol. vii. p. 54; and Lingard's Hist. of England, vol. iii. p. 298.
10Locke, in his first Letter on Toleration, has made some pungent, and, I should suppose, very offensive, observations on these rapid changes. Locke's Works, vol. v. p. 27.
11But, although Mary easily effected a change of religion, the anti-ecclesiastical spirit was far too strong to allow her to restore to the church its property. ‘In Mary's reign, accordingly, her parliament, so obsequious in all matters of religion, adhered with a firm grasp to the possession of church-lands.’ Hallam's Const. Hist. vol. i. p. 77. See also Short's Hist. of the Church of England, p. 213; Lingard's Hist. of England, vol. iv. pp. 339, 340; Butler's Mem. of the Catholics, vol. i. p. 253; and Carwithen's Hist. of the Church of England, vol. i. p. 346.
12‘Quand éclata la guerre des opinions religieuses, les antiques rivalités des barons se transformèrent en haîne du prêche ou de la messe.’ Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme et de la Ligue, vol. iv. p. 32. Compare Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Correspond., vol. ii. pp. 422, 563; and Boullier, Maison Militaire des Rois de France, p. 25, ‘des querelles d'autant plus vives, qu'elles avoient la religion pour base.’
13The intellectual advantages of France, arising from its position between Italy, Germany, and England, are very fairly stated by M. Lerminier (Philosophie du Droit, vol. i. p. 9).
14Just in the same way, the religious disputes in Alexandria injured the interests of knowledge. See the instructive remarks of M. Matter (Hist. de l'Ecole d'Alexandrie, vol. ii. p. 131).
15Monteil, Hist. des divers Etats, vol. vi. p. 136. Indeed, the theological spirit seized the theatre, and the different sectarians ridiculed each other's principles on the stage. See a curious passage at p. 182 of the same learned work.
16The crimes of the French Protestants, though hardly noticed in Felice's History of the Protestants of France, pp. 138–143, were as revolting as those of the Catholics, and quite as numerous relatively to the numbers and power of the two parties. Compare Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xviii. pp. 516, 517, with Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. ii. p. 173, vol. vi. p. 54; and Smedley, Hist. of the Reformed Religion in France, vol. i. pp. 199, 200, 237.
17In 1569 Corero writes: ‘Ritrovai quel regno, certo, posto in grandissima confusione; perchè, stante quella divisione di religione (convertita quasi in due fazioni e inimicizie particolari), era causa ch' ognuno, senza che amicizia o parentela potesse aver luoco, stava con l'orecchie attente; e pieno disospetto ascoltava da che parte nasceva qualche romore,’ Relat. des Ambassad. Vénitiens, vol. ii. p. 106. He emphatically adds, ‘Temevano gl' ugonotti, temevano li cattolici, tenieva il prencipe, temevano li sudditi.’ See also, on this horrible state of opinions, Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xviii. pp. 21, 22, 118–120, 296, 430. On both sides, the grossest calumnies were propagated and believed; and one of the charges brought against Catherine de Medici was, that she caused the Cesarean operation to be performed on the wives of Protestants, in order that no new heretics might be born. Sprengel, Hist. de la Médecine, vol. vii. p. 294.
18Mably, Observations sur l'Hist. de France, vol. iii. p. 149. In the reign of Charles IX. alone, there were no less than five of these religious wars, each of which was concluded by a treaty. See Flassan, Hist. de la Diplomatie Française, vol. ii. p. 69.
19For which l'Hôpital was accused of atheism: ‘Homo doctus, sed verus atheus.’ Dict. Philos. article Athéisme, in Œuvres de Voltaire, vol. xxxvii. pp. 181, 182.
20I have not been able to meet with any good life of this great man: that by Charles Butler is very superficial, and so is that by Bernardi, in Biog. Univ. vol. xxiv. pp. 412–424. My own information respecting l'Hôpital is from Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xviii. pp. 431–436; Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. ii. pp. 135–137, 168–170; De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. iii. pp. 519–523, vol. iv. pp. 2–8, 152–159, vol. v. pp. 180–182, 520, 521, 535, vol. vi. pp. 703, 704; Sully, Œconomies Royales, vol. i. p. 234. Duvernet (Hist. de la Sorbonne, vol. i. pp. 215–218) is unsatisfactory, though fully recognizing his merit.
21‘Ce fut alors que la nation ne prit conseil que de son fanatisme. Les esprits, de jour en jour plus échauffés, ne virent plus d'autre objet que celui de la religion, et par piété se firent les injures les plus atroces.’ Mably, Observations sur l'Hist. de France, vol. iii. p. 145.
22The 19th and 20th volumes of Sismondi's Histoire des Français contain painful evidence of the internal condition of France before the accession of Henry IV. Indeed, as Sismondi says (vol. xx. pp. 11–16), it seemed at one time as if the only prospect was a relapse into feudalism. See also Monteil, Hist. des divers Etats, vol. v. pp. 242–249: ‘plus de trois cent mille maisons détruites.’ De Thou, in the memoirs of his own life, says, ‘Les loix furent méprisées, et l'honneur de la France fut presque anéanti … et sous le voile de la religion, on ne respiroit que la haîne, la vengeance, le massacre et l'incendie,’ Mém. de la Vie, in Histoire Univ. vol. i. p. 120; and the same writer, in his great history, gives almost innumerable instances of the crimes and persecutions constantly occurring. See, for some of the most striking cases, vol. ii. p. 383, vol. iv. pp. 378, 380, 387, 495, 496, 539, vol. v. pp. 189, 518, 561, 647, vol. vi. pp. 421, 422, 424, 426, 427, 430, 469. Compare Duplessis, Mém. et Correspond. vol. ii. pp. 41, 42, 322, 335, 611, 612, vol. iii. pp. 344, 445, vol. iv. pp. 112–114; Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. i. pp. 307, 308; Duvernet, Hist. de la Sorbonne, vol. i. p. 217.
23This, indeed, is not saying much; and far higher praise might be justly bestowed. As to his domestic policy, there can be only one opinion; and M. Flassan speaks in the most favourable terms of his management of foreign affairs. Flassan, Hist. de la Diplomatie Franç. vol. ii. pp. 191, 192, 294–297, vol. iii. p. 243. And see, to the same effect, the testimony of M. Capefigue, an unfriendly judge. Hist. de la Réforme, vol. vii. p. xiv. vol. viii. p. 156. Fontenay Mareuil, who was a contemporary of Henry IV., though he wrote many years after the king was murdered, says, ‘Ce grand roy, qui estoit en plus de considération dans le monde que pas un de ses prédécesseurs n'avoit esté depuis Charlesmagne.’ Mém. de Fontenay, vol. i. p. 46. Duplessis Mornay calls him ‘le plus grand roy que la chrestienté ait porté depuis cinq cens ans;’ and Sully pronounces him to be ‘le plus grand de nos rois.’ Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Correspond. vol. xi. pp. 30, 77, 131; Sully, Œconomies Royales, vol. vii. p. 15. Compare vol. vi. pp. 397, 398, vol. ix. pp. 35, 242, with some sensible remarks in Mém. de Genlis, Paris, 1825, vol. ix. p. 299.
24So it is generally related: but there is a slightly different version of this orthodox declaration in Smedley's Hist. of the Reformation in France, vol. i. p. 30. Compare Maclaine's note in Mosheim's Eccles. Hist. vol. ii. p. 24, with Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xvi. pp. 453, 454, and Relat. des Ambassad. Vénitiens, vol. i. p. 50, vol. ii. p. 48. It was also Francis I. who advised Charles V. to expel all the Mohammedans from Spain, Llorente, Hist. de l'Inquisition, vol. i. p. 429.
25The historian of the French Protestants says, in 1548, ‘le nouveau roi Henry II. fut encore plus rigoureux que son père.’ Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. i. p. 12.
26M. Ranke (Civil Wars in France, vol. i. pp. 240, 241) says, that he issued a circular ‘addressed to the parliaments and to the judicial tribunals, in which they were urged to proceed against the Lutherans with the greatest severity, and the judges informed that they would be held responsible, should they neglect these orders; and in which he declared plainly, that as soon as the peace with Spain was concluded, he was determined to make the extirpation of the heretics his principal business.’ See also, on Henry II., in connexion with the Protestants, Mably, Observ. sur l'Hist. de France, vol. iii. pp. 133, 134; De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. i. pp. 334, 335, 387, vol. ii. p. 640, vol. iii. pp. 365, 366; Felice's Hist. of the French Protestants, p. 58.
27He said this to the Estates of Blois in 1588. Ranke's Civil Wars in France, vol. ii. p. 202. Compare his edict, in 1585, in Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. iv. pp. 244, 245, and his speech in vol. v. p. 122; and see Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. i. p. 328; Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Corresp. vol. i. p. 110; De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. i. p. 250, vol. viii. p. 651, vol. x, pp. 294, 589, 674, 675.
28With what zeal these opinions were enforced, appears, besides many other authorities, from Marino Cavalli, who writes in 1546, ‘Li maestri di Sorbona hanno autorità estrema di castigare li eretici, il che fanno con il fuoco, brustolandoli vivi a poco a poco.’ Relat. des Ambassad. Vénitiens, vol. i. 262; and see vol. ii. p. 24.
29Indeed, Clement VIII. was afterwards apprehensive of a fourth apostasy: ‘Er meinte noch immer, Heinrich IV. werde zuletzt vielleicht wieder zum Protestantismus zurückkehren, wie er es schon einmal gethan.’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. ii. p. 246. M. Ranke, from his great knowledge of Italian manuscripts, has thrown more light on these transactions than the French historians have been able to do.
30On his conversion, the character of which was as obvious then as it is now, compare Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Correspond. vol. i. p. 257, with Sully, Œconomies Royales, vol. ii. p. 126. See also Howell's Letters, book i. p. 42; and a letter from Sir H. Wotton in 1593, printed in Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 711. See also Ranke, Civil Wars in France, vol. ii. pp. 257, 355; Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. vi. pp. 305, 358.
31The edict of Nantes was in 1598; the abjuration in 1593. Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxi. pp. 202, 486. But in 1590 it was intimated to the pope as probable, if not certain, that Henry would ‘in den Schooss der katholischen Kirche zurückkehren.’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. ii. p. 210.
32Of this edict, Sismondi says, ‘Aucune époque dans l'histoire de France ne marque mieux peut-être la fin d'un monde ancien, le commencement d'un monde nouveau.’ Hist. des Français, vol. xxi. p. 489.
33On Rabelais, as the supposed founder of French scepticism, compare Lavallée, Hist. des Français, vol. ii. p. 306; Stephen's Lectures on the History of France, vol. ii. p. 242; Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xvi. p. 376.
34Particularly the monks. See, among numerous other instances, vol. i. pp. 278, 282, vol. ii. pp. 284, 285, of Œuvres de Rabelais, edit. Amsterdam, 1725. However, the high dignitaries of the church are not spared; for he says that Gargantua ‘se morvoit en archidiacre,’ vol. i. p. 132; and on two occasions (vol. iii. p. 65, vol. iv. pp. 199, 200) he makes a very indecent allusion to the pope. In vol. i. pp. 260, 261, he satirically notices the way in which the services of the church were performed: ‘Dont luy dist le moyne: Je ne dors jamais à mon aise, sinon quand je suis au sermon, ou quand je prie Dieu.’
35His joke on the strength of Samson (Œuvres de Rabelais, vol. ii. pp. 29, 30), and his ridicule of one of the Mosaic laws (vol. iii. p. 34), are so unconnected with other parts of his work, as to have no appearance of belonging to a general scheme. The commentators, who find a hidden meaning in every author they annotate, have represented Rabelais as aiming at the highest objects, and seeking to effect the most extensive social and religious reforms. This I greatly doubt, at all events I have seen no proof of it; and I cannot help thinking that Rabelais owes a large share of his reputation to the obscurity of his language. On the other side of the question, and in favour of his comprehensiveness, see a bold passage in Coleridge's Lit. Remains, vol. i. pp. 138, 139.
36The two first books in 1580; the third in 1588, with additions to the first two. See Niceron, Mém. pour servir à l'Hist. des Hommes illustres, vol. xvi. p. 210, Paris, 1731.
37The first impression of the Pantagruel of Rabelais has no date on the title-page; but it is known that the third book was printed in 1545, and the fourth book in 1546. See Brunet, Manuel du Libraire, vol. iv. pp. 4–6, Paris, 1843. The statement in Biog. Univ. vol. xxxvi. pp. 482, 483, is rather confused.
38Mr. Hallam (Lit. of Europe, vol. ii. p. 29) says, that his scepticism ‘is not displayed in religion.’ But if we use the word ‘religion’ in its ordinary sense, as connected with dogma, it is evident, from Montaigne's language, that he was a sceptic, and an unflinching one too. Indeed, he goes so far as to say that all religious opinions are the result of custom: ‘Comme de vray nous n'avons aultre mire de la vérité et de la raison, que l'exemple et idée des opinions et usances du païs où nous sommes: là est tousiours la parfaicte religion, la parfaicte police, parfaict et accomply usage de toutes choses.’ Essais de Montaigne, p. 121, livre i. chap. xxx. As a natural consequence, he lays down that religious error is not criminal, p. 53; compare p. 28. See also how he notices the usurpations of the theological spirit, pp. 116, 508, 528. The fact seems to be, that Montaigne, while recognizing abstractedly the existence of religious truths, doubted our capacity for knowing them; that is to say, he doubted if, out of the immense number of religious opinions, there were any means of ascertaining which were accurate. His observations on miracles (pp. 541, 653, 654, 675) illustrate the character of his mind; and what he says on prophetic visions is quoted and confirmed by Pinel, in his profound work Aliénation Mentale, p. 256. Compare Maury, Légendes Pieuses, p. 268 note.
39His friend, the celebrated De Thou, calls him ‘homme franc, ennemi de toute contrainte.’ Mémoires, in De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. i. p. 59: see also vol. xi. p. 590. And M. Lamartine classes him with Montesquieu, as ‘ces deux grands républicains de la pensée française.’ Hist. des Girondins, vol. i. p. 174.
40He says (Essais, p. 97), ‘Ce n'est pas à l'adventure sans raison que nous attribuons à simplesse et ignorance la facilité de croire et de se laisser persuader.’ Compare two striking passages, pp. 199 and 685. Nothing of this sort had ever appeared before in the French language.
41Dugald Stewart, whose turn of mind was very different from that of Montaigne, calls him ‘this most amusing author.’ Stewart's Philos. of the Mind, vol. i. p. 468. But Rousseau, in every respect a more competent judge, enthusiastically praises ‘la naïveté, la grâce et l'énergie de son style inimitable.’ Musset Pathay, Vie de Rousseau, vol. i. p. 185. Compare Lettres de Sévigné, vol. iii. p. 491, edit. Paris, 1843, and Lettres de Dudeffand à Walpole, vol. i. p. 94.
42‘Mais celui qui a répandu et popularisé en France le scepticisme, c'est Montaigne.’ Cousin, Hist. de la Philos., II. série, vol. ii. pp. 288, 289. ‘Die erste Regung des skeptischen Geistes finden wir in den Versuchen des Michael von Montaigne.’ Tennemann, Gesch. der Philos. vol. ix. p. 443. On the immense influence of Montaigne, compare Tennemann, vol. ix. p. 458; Monteil, Divers Etats, vol. v. pp. 263–265; Sorel, Bibliothèque Françoise, pp. 80–91; Le Long, Bibliothèque Historique, vol. iv. p. 527.
43Compare the remarks on Charron in Tennemann, Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. ix. p. 527, with two insidious passages in Charron, De la Sagesse, vol. i. pp. 4, 366.
44The obligations of Charron to Montaigne were very considerable, but are stated too strongly by many writers. Sorel, Bibliothèque Françoise, p. 93; and Hallam's Literature of Europe, vol. ii. pp. 362, 509. On the most important subjects, Charron was a bolder and deeper thinker than Montaigne; though he is now so little read, that the only tolerably complete account I have seen of his system is in Tennemann, Gesch. der Philosophie, vol. ix. pp. 458–487. Buhle (Geschichte der neuern Philosophie, vol. ii. pp. 918–925) and Cousin (Hist. de la Philos. II. série, vol. ii. p. 289) are short and unsatisfactory. Even Dr. Parr, who was extensively read in this sort of literature, appears only to have known Charron through Bayle (see notes on the Spital Sermon, in Parr's Works, vol. ii. pp. 520, 521); while Dugald Stewart, with suspicious tautology, quotes, in three different places, the same passage from Charron. Stewart's Philosophy of the Mind, vol. ii. p. 233, vol. iii. pp. 365, 393. Singularly enough, Talleyrand was a great admirer of De la Sagesse, and presented his favourite copy of it to Madame de Genlis! See her own account, in Mém. de Genlis, vol. iv. pp. 352, 353.
45See his definition, or rather description, of wisdom, in Charron, De la Sagesse, vol. i. p. 295, vol. ii. pp. 113, 115.
46De la Sagesse, vol. i. pp. 63, 351.
47‘Chacune se préfère aux autres, et se confie d'être la meilleure et plus vraie que les autres, et s'entre-reprochent aussi les unes aux autres quelque chose, et par-là s'entre-condamnent et rejettent.’ De la Sagesse, vol. i. p. 348; see also vol. i. pp. 144, 304, 305, 306, vol. ii. p. 116. Expressions almost identical are used by M. Charles Compte, Traité de Législation, vol. i. p. 233.
48‘Toutes trouvent et fournissent miracles, prodiges, oracles, mystères sacrés, saints prophètes, fêtes, certains articles de foy et créance nécessaires au salut.’ De la Sagesse, vol. i. p. 346.
49Hence he opposes proselytism, and takes up the philosophic ground, that religious opinions, being governed by undeviating laws, owe their variations to variations in their antecedents, and are always, if left to themselves, suited to the existing state of things: ‘Et de ces conclusions, nous apprendrons à n'épouser rien, ne jurer à rien, n'admirer rien, ne se troubler de rien, mais quoi qu'il advienne, que l'on crie, tempête, se resoudre à ce point, que c'est le cours du monde, c'est nature qui fait des siennes.’ Dela Sagesse, vol. i. p. 311.
50‘Mais comme elles naissent l'une après l'autre, la plus jeune bâtit toujours sur son aînée et prochaine précédente, laquelle elle n'improuve, ni ne condamne de fond en comble, autrement elle ne seroit pas ouïe, et ne pourroit prendre pied; mais seulement l'accuse ou d'imperfection, ou de son terme fini, et qu'à cette occasion elle vient pour lui succéder et la parfaire, et ainsi la ruine peu-à-peu, et s'enrichit de ses dépouilles, comme la Judaïque a fait à la Gentille et Egyptienne, la Chrétienne à la Judaïque, la Mahometane à la Judaïque et Chrétienne ensemble: mais les vieilles condamnent bien tout-à-fait et entièrement les jeunes, et les tiennent pour ennemies capables.’ De la Sagesse, vol. i. p. 349. This, I believe, is the first instance in any modern language of the doctrine of religious development; a doctrine which, since Charron, has been steadily advancing, particularly among men whose knowledge is extensive enough to enable them to compare the different religions which have prevailed at different times. In this, as in other subjects, they who are unable to compare, suppose that everything is isolated, simply because to them the continuity is invisible. As to the Alexandrian doctrine of development, found particularly in Clement and Origen, see Neander's Hist. of the Church, vol. ii. pp. 234–257; and in particular pp. 241, 246.
51De la Sagesse, vol. i. pp. 356, 365; two magnificent passages. But the whole chapter ought to be read, livre ii. chap. v. In it there is an occasional ambiguity. Tennemann, however, in the most important point, understands Charron as I do in regard to the doctrine of future punishments. Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. ix. p. 473.
52The first edition of La Sagesse was published at Bourdeaux in 1601. Niceron, Hommes illustres, vol. xvi. p. 224; Hallam's Lit. of Europe, vol. ii. p. 509; Biog. Univ. vol. viii. p. 250. Two editions were susequently published in Paris, in 1604 and 1607. Brunet, Manuel du Libraire, vol. i. p. 639.
53Sismondi (Hist. des Français, vol. xxii. p. 86) and Lavallée (Hist. des Français, vol. iii. p. 84) have noticed the diminution of religious zeal early in the seventeenth century; and some curious evidence will also be found in the correspondence of Duplessis Mornay. See, for instance, a letter he wrote to Diodati, in 1609: ‘A beaucoup aujourd'hui il fault commencer par là, qu'il y a une religion, premier que de leur dire quelle.’ Duplessis, Mém. et Corresp. vol. x. p. 415. This middle, or secular party, received the name of ‘Politiques,’ and began to be powerful in 1592 or 1593. Benoist (Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. i. p. 113), under the year 1593, contemptuously says: ‘Il s'éleva une foule de conciliateurs de religion;’ see also pp. 201, 273. In 1590, and in 1594, the ‘Politiques’ are noticed by De Thou (Hist. Univ. vol. xi. p. 171, vol. xii. p. 134); and on the increase, in 1593, of ‘le tiers parti politique et négociateur,’ see Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. vi. p. 235. See also, respecting ‘les politiques,’ a letter from the Spanish ambassador to his own court, in 1615, in Capefigue's Richelieu, vol. i. p. 93; and for the rise in Paris, in 1592, of a ‘politisch und kirchlich gemässigte Gesinnung,’ see Ranke, die Päpste, vol. ii. p. 243.
54The Sorbonne went so far as to condemn Charron's great work, but could not succeed in having it prohibited. Compare Duvernet, Hist. de la Sorbonne, vol. ii. p. 139, with Bayle, article Charron, note F.
55In the appendix to Ranke (Die Römischen Päpste, vol. iii. pp. 141, 142), there will be found the instructions which were given to the nuncio, in 1603, when he was sent to the French court; and which should be compared with a letter, written in 1604, in Sully, Œconomies Royales, vol. v. p. 122, edit. 1820.
56‘Sein Sinn war im Allgemeinen, ohne Zweifel, das Gleichgewicht zwischen ihnen zu erhalten.’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. ii. pp. 430, 431. ‘Henri IV, l'expression de l'indifférentisme religieux, se posa comme une transaction entre ces deux systèmes.’ Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. vi. p. 358. ‘Henry IV. endeavoured to adjust the balance evenly,’ Smedley's Hist. of the Reformed Religion in France, vol. iii. p. 19. See also Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. i. p. 136. Hence, of course, neither party was quite satisfied. Mably's Observations, vol. iii. p. 220; Mezeray, Histoire de France, vol. iii. p. 959.
57Compare Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. viii. p. 61, with Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. pp. 32, 33. See also, on his inclination towards the Protestants, Mém. de Fontenay Mareuil, vol. i. p. 91. Fontenay, p. 94, mentions, as a singular instance, that ‘il se vist de son temps des huguenots avoir des abbayes.’
58Sully, Œconomies Royales, vol. iv. p. 134, vol. vi. p. 233; Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Corresp. vol. xi. p. 242; Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. ii. pp. 68, 205. These grants were annual, and were apportioned by the Protestants themselves. See their own account, in Quick's Synodicon in Gallia, vol. i. pp. 198, 222, 246, 247, 249, 275–277.
59Henry IV. banished the Jesuits in 1594; but they were allowed, later in his reign, to make fresh settlements in France. Flassan, Hist. de la Diplomatie, vol. vi. p. 485; Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. p. 106; Monteil, Divers Etats, vol. v. p. 192 note; De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. xiv. p. 298. Compare the notices of them in Sully, Œconomies, vol. ii. p. 234, vol. iv. pp. 200, 235, 245. But there can be little doubt that they owed their recall to the dread entertained of their intrigues (Grégoire, Hist. des Confesseurs, p. 316); and Henry evidently disliked as well as feared them. See two letters from him in Duplessis, Mém. et Corresp. vol. vi. pp. 129, 151. It would appear, from the Mém. de Richelieu, vol. v. p. 350, Paris, 1823, that the king never restored to them their former authority in regard to education.
60Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. pp. 142, 143; Le Vassor, vol. i. p. 156; Sismondi, vol. xxii. p. 116; Duplessis Mornay, vol. i. p. 389; Sully, Œconomies, vol. vii. pp. 105, 432, 442.
61When Ravaillac was examined, he said, ‘qu'il y avait été excité par l'intérêt de la religion, et par une impulsion irrésistible.’ Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. p. 38. This work contains the fullest account I have met with of Ravaillac; of whom there is, moreover, a description in Les Historiettes de Tallemant des Réaux, vol. i. p. 85, Paris, 1840, a very curious book.
62Le Vassor (Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. p. 279) calls her ‘superstitieuse au dernier point;’ and, in vol. v. p. 481, ‘femme crédule et superstitieuse.’ See also vol. iii. p. 250, vol. vi. p. 628; and Grégoire, Hist. des Confesseurs, p. 65.
63‘Elle annonça qu'elle vouloit suivre en tout l'exemple du feu roi… Le ministère de Henri IV, que la reine continuoit.’ Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxii. pp. 206, 210; and see two letters from her, in Duplessis Mornay, Mém. et Corresp. vol. xi. p. 282, vol. xii. p. 428. Sully had feared that the death of Henry IV. would cause a change of policy: ‘que l'on s'alloit jeter dans des desseins tous contraires aux règles, ordres et maximes du feu roy.’ Œconomies Royales, vol. viii. p. 401.
64See the declaration in Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. pp. 74, 75; and notices of it in Mém. de Richelieu, vol. i. p. 58; Capefigue's Richelieu, vol. i. p. 27; Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. ii. p. 7; Le Vassor, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. p. 58. But none of these writers, nor Sismondi (vol. xxii. p. 221), appear to be aware that the issuing of this declaration was determined on, in council, as early as the 17th of May; that is, only three days after the death of Henry IV. This is mentioned by Pontchartrain, who was then one of the ministers. See Mém. de Pontchartrain, edit. Petitot, 1822, vol. i. p. 409; a book little known, but well worthy of being read.
65Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. p. 262; Benoist, Hist. de l'Edit de Nantes, vol. ii. p. 140; Mém. de Fontenay Mareuil, vol. i. p. 257; Le Vassor, vol. i. p. 604.
66‘Laissant néanmoins l'administration du royaume à la reine sa mère.’ Mém. de Bassompierre, vol. ii. p. 52. Compare Sully, Œconomies, vol. ix. p. 177. She possessed complete authority over the king till 1617. See Mémoires de Montglat, vol. i. p. 24: ‘avoit été tenu fort bas par la reine sa mère.’ See also Le Vassor, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. ii. pp. 640, 677, 716, 764.
67Bazin, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. i. pp. 381, 382.
68In 1611, ‘le pape le rejeta formellement comme hérétique.’ Bazin, vol. i. p. 174. This is glossed over by Pontchartrain (Mémoires, vol. i. p. 450); but the statement of M. Bazin is confirmed in the preface to De Thou, Histoire Universelle, vol. i. p. xvi.
69‘Der erste Einhalt den die kirchliche Restauration erfuhr, geschah in Frankreich,’ Ranke, die Römischen Päpste, vol. iii. p. 160.
70This desire was expressed several times, but in vain: ‘Gern hätten die Nuntien Werke wie von Thou und Richer verboten, aber es war ihnen nicht möglich,’ Ranke, die Päpste, vol. iii. p. 181, Anhang. Compare Mém. de Richelieu, vol. ii. p. 68; Mém. de Pontchartrain, vol. i. p. 428.
71This decline of the ecclesiastical power is noticed by many writers of the time; but it is sufficient to refer to the very curious remonstrance of the French clergy, in 1605, in De Thou, Hist. Univ. vol. xiv. pp. 446, 447.
72As M. Monteil says (Hist. des Français des divers Etats, vol. vii. p. 114), ‘Richelieu tint le sceptre; Louis XIII. porta la couronne.’ And Campion (Mémoires, p. 37) calls him ‘plutôt le maître que le ministre;’ and adds, pp. 218, 219, that he ‘avoit gouverné dix-huit ans la France avec un pouvoir absolu et une gloire sans pareille.’ Compare Mém. du Cardinal de Retz, vol. i p. 63.
73The common opinion, put forth in Alison's Hist. of Europe, vol. i. pp. 101–104, and in many other books, is that Richelieu did destroy their influence; but this error arises from confusing political influence with social influence. What is termed the political power of a class, is merely the symptom and manifestation of its real power; and it is no use to attack the first, unless you can also weaken the second. The real power of the nobles was social, and that neither Richelieu nor Louis XIV. could impair; and it remained intact until the middle of the eighteenth century, when the intellect of France rebelled against it, overthrew it, and finally effected the French Revolution.
74Richelieu appears to have formed the design of humbling the nobles, at least as early as 1624. See a characteristic passage in his Mémoires, vol. ii. p. 340. In Swinburne's Courts of Europe, vol. ii. pp. 63–65, there is a curious traditional anecdote, which, though probably false, shows, at all events, the fear and hatred with which the French nobles regarded the memory of Richelieu more than a century after his death.
75On their influence, see Grégoire, Histoire des Confesseurs; and compare the remarks of Mr. Grote, a great writer, whose mind is always ready with historical analogies. Grote's Hist. of Greece, vol. vi. p. 393, 2nd edit. 1851. Many of the French kings had a strong natural affection for monks; but the most singular instance I have found of this sort of love is mentioned by no less a man than De Thou, respecting Henry III. De Thou (Hist. Univ. vol. x. pp. 666, 667) says of that prince: ‘Soit tempérament, soit éducation, la présence d'un moine faisait toujours plaisir à Henri; et je lui ai moi-même souvent entendu dire, que leur vue produisoit le même effet sur son âme, que le chatouillement le plus délicat sur le corps.’
76One of his suggestions was, ‘sur les dangers que couroit le catholicisme en Allemagne, par ses liaisons avec les puissances protestantes.’ Grégoire, Histoire des Confesseurs, p. 342. The fullest account of Caussin is in Le Vassor, Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. ix. pp. 287–299; to which, however, Grégoire never refers. As I shall have frequent occasion to quote Le Vassor, I may observe, that he is far more accurate than is generally supposed, and that he has been very unfairly treated by the majority of French writers, among whom he is unpopular, on account of his constant attacks on Louis XIV. Sismondi (Hist. des Français, vol. xxii. pp. 188, 189) speaks highly of his Hist. of Louis XIII; and so far as my own reading extends, I can confirm his favourable opinion.
77‘Le petit père Caussin.’ Mém. de Richelieu, vol. x. p. 206; and at p. 217, he is classed among the ‘personnes qui avoient toujours été nourries dans l'innocence d'une vie religieuse;’ see also p. 215, on his ‘simplicité et ignorance.’ Respecting Richelieu's treatment of Caussin, see Mém. de Montglat, vol. i. pp. 173–175; Lettres de Patin, vol. i. p. 49; Des Réaux, Historiettes, vol. ii. p. 182.
78Sismondi, Hist. des Français, vol. xxiii. p. 332; Tallemant des Réaux, Historiettes, vol. iii. p. 78 note. Le Vassor (Hist. de Louis XIII, vol. x. part ii. p. 761) says, that Sirmond ‘se soutint à la cour sous le ministère de Richelieu, parce qu'il ne se mêloit point des affaires d'état.’ According to the same writer (vol. viii. p. 156), Richelieu thought at one time of depriving the Jesuits of their post of confessor to the king.
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