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.