system which must ever be called into action, when every higher principle of international adjudication has ceased to be applicable—and which, as it was the source whence had emanated the whole moral and intellectual culture of the eighteenth century, attained now a more systematic form, and held a more brilliant and dignified place, than at any former period of history. England was the strong, central prop of the great lever for the European Balance of Power, while Austria, which in every age has been true to a pacific system of policy, (although her moral existence depended on far higher principles of religion), formed on the Continent the other main stay to the system of the Balance of Power, now become the universal principle of international policy. And this firm alliance between the two powers was in general, the external basis of this system, independently of the many fluctuations which were inherent to its very nature. We must not however confound this principle of policy with a conservative and pacific system, acting according to existing and acknowledged rights; for although the former system be much akin to the latter, and both may easily and naturally co-operate in a common resistance to an overgrown power, regardless of all right; still they are far from being one and the same; and differ widely in many characteristic properties, nay in their very nature. The fundamental law of the conservative and pacific policy is Right—not an abstract notion and pure
ideal of absolute justice, by which the international policy of states is to be fashioned and regulated; but rather (if for the sake of greater clearness I may be allowed the use of a mathematical phrase) an applied right, that is to say, an existing and acknowledged right. For if we seek the first origin and ultimate foundation of all right and all justice, we must seek it in God alone, who is the eternal arbiter of the world, of states and nations as well as of individuals, and who well knows how to requite every great political injustice on his appointed day of retribution, to visit it with unexpected punishment, and to reduce it to its own nothingness by an often fearful award. But so soon as man, or any earthly power presumes to lay its hand upon this work—to propose to itself absolute justice, to judge and regulate all things by that standard, and to model the world in conformity to it—the consequence is a total Revolution in all the relations of society—an entire subversion of all existing order; and it is this false idea which is the principle or the pretext of all those fanatic attempts at universal conquest, and of every Revolution not directed to the attainment of specific rights, but aiming at sweeping, unqualified and universal change. It is only when in the general system of existing and positive international rights, some occurrence has produced a chasm—some interstice appears—some particular question remains, or becomes anew, open and debateable ground—that a pacific policy
acting on the principle I have mentioned, can and will in such special cases, revert to the original, pure and eternal justice of God. But in the material system of the Balance of Power, right and wrong are not the ultimate object, nor the sole criterion of political estimation, nor the sole rule of political negociations; but the great object is the prevention or removal of any ascendancy which endangers or even threatens danger to the general interests of the powers. Both systems of policy may very well concur in their effects, and in most cases really do concur, for the establishment of political ascendancy is generally founded on the violation of existing rights, or may easily lead thereto. But this is not absolutely necessary; cases may easily be conceived where right is clearly on the side of ascendant might, as was once the case in the middle of the eighteenth century, and as happened in another way towards the beginning of the same age, when the cause of justice was espoused by preponderant power only. And in such cases, with a total disregard to justice, this system of the material Balance of Power will fling its weight into the opposing scale, in order to impede the progress of overgrown dominion. In another respect, also, the character and ordinary tendency of this system differ widely from that pacific policy, which aims at the preservation of all existing and acknowledged rights. In the latter system, it is only the actual disturbance and real violation of the general peace of
nations, which can lead to the declaration of war. But on the contrary, in the former system it is merely a formidable preponderance of power—a mere possibility of its abuse—a dread of future danger, which is deemed a sufficient motive for engaging in hostilities—a motive by which a state, where this is the exclusive principle of policy, is undoubtedly, as has often been objected to England, more easily and more quickly determined, than any other: and such a motive may operate the more easily in a country like England, where those inducements for entering into war with more haste than is expedient or desirable, are strengthened by the fact, that an insular and naval state, concentrated within itself, can carry on hostilities with all the advantages of peace, and with the wonted activity of trade. England during the eighteenth century acquired the highest glory, and in general made a very beneficial use of her great power, in contributing to the general aid, security and freedom of Europe; and in what is here said, it is by no means intended to cast a slur on, or to undervalue the old and well-acquired power of Great Britain, as such a censure would be futile in itself, and extremely misplaced here. But for the right understanding of the peculiar political character and tendencies of an age, like the eighteenth century, so near to our own times, it is necessary to observe that the system of the Balance of Power is either merely the substitute for a higher principle,
where the latter is no longer susceptible of application, or in those cases where the latter hath really force, the system of the Balance of Power must be considered a mere supplement—a subordinate auxiliary for the settlement of incidental questions. But with the great Revolution which closed the eighteenth century, there commenced an epoch of intellectual as well as political barbarism and desolation, to which the mere negative principle of an equilibrium of power, however it might be adequate to the ordinary relations of civilized states, was no longer applicable; for now a higher principle of moral and social reparation was needed. In no department of human activity can the positive power of evil be overcome by a mere negative principle of resistance, but solely by a principle of a homogeneous, though loftier nature—a divine power acting within the same circle. A mighty religious war, which has shaken all moral existence to its centre, and convulsed it in all its depths, can be completely terminated only by a true religious peace. But such a peace depends on the moral force of principle, and not on the exact measurement of any physical equilibrium. As during the late frightful Revolution, the political relations of every state have been changed, and the whole Balance of Power in Europe been disturbed, no force can now easily alter or replace what has thus been established. Of this, England herself may afford us an example. Certainly that great country in
Southern Asia—the richest of all the countries in the world—and which Great Britain has annexed to her sway, by means of a navy that gives her the empire of the seas, and whose population five or six times exceeds that of the ocean-queen, and equals in numbers the best half of Europe; has brought an accession of strength to England, which can not possibly be measured, judged, or condemned according to the old narrow rules of the system of the Balance of Power; since so many vast and important results have accrued, and in all probability will yet accrue to Europe and India herself from this most singular, and in the history of the world, quite unprecedented connection; and since in other respects, not only the internal administration of Hindostan, but the entire conduct of the English in those transactions, has been at once so wise and glorious. As the shallow, superficial notion of illuminism, which during the greater part of the eighteenth century was considered the all-ruling principle and highest object of all science and speculation, is no longer adequate to the present views of philosophy; in like manner the system of the Balance of Power has ceased to be any longer applicable to the state of Europe in the late general warfare, or to that state of things which it has given rise to; and it is not from this system we can expect the final settlement and adjustment of things, and the solution of the Gordian knot—the great enigma of the world in our times.
After the system of the Balance of Power, the next leading and characteristic principle in the history of the eighteenth century, is the notion of illuminism, which exercised on the internal civilization of all European nations the same influence which the former system exerted on their external relations. People are so accustomed to confound the principle of enlightenment with the abuse and false application made of it during the last century, that in order to represent this great epoch in all its historical bearings, I shall endeavour to shew that to an impartial judge and observer, it offers many and diverse points for consideration. For we must remember that there was a true enlightenment by the side of a false one, and that enlightenment was not every where of a negative character, precipitate in its progress, and destructive in its effects. In its first obscure beginnings, it had a solid, irreproachable, and very beneficial character and tendency. During the public calamities, and general anarchy of the seventeenth century, the natural sciences in all their various branches, made silent but very extraordinary progress; and numberless were the advantages of these new discoveries to all the useful arts and sciences, especially in those commercial and maritime states where such knowledge was mostly needed. A bold, enterprising genius,[18] heir to the most splendid throne in the North,
had as an apprentice and artisan appropriated on the spot all these advantages of modern civilization, and turned them to full account in navigation, in the various mechanic arts, in the foundation of cities, and in the general civilization of his subjects; and thus he became the founder of the present greatness of Russia;—a greatness which is built on a species of enlightenment, that so far from being of a futile and rash nature, and of a destructive tendency, has exerted a gradual but beneficial influence over the whole extent of an empire, which stretches far into two continents of the globe. It was only by that true and genuine improvement and civilization, which commenced under Peter the Great, that Russia acquired the knowledge and mastery of her own resources, and thus rose to a high and permanent grade in the scale of nations.
The separation of the Russian church from the authority of the Greek patriarch, who had now fallen under Turkish dependance, appeared a necessary condition for opening a door in Russia to the moral and intellectual civilization of Europe; nor when we consider that such a step was but the continuation of an original schism, can we deem it a subject of blame. It does not appear, however, that the system of a national church, which has sprung out of this separation, has been here as much abused as in the Anglican church, or in that system of anti-papal opposition nearly akin to it, adopted in
one or more Catholic countries of Europe. The very system, however, of an exclusively national religion, must ever be an object of the greatest solicitude, for it is but too easily susceptible of an extension most fatal to Christian government, which nothing so much impairs and undermines as any leaning to the Mahometan confusion of spiritual and temporal power in the hands of the same person.