History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

A still more curious instance was exhibited on the occasion of the expulsion of the Jesuits. That once useful, but now troublesome, body was, during the eighteenth century, what it is in the nineteenth—the obstinate enemy of progress and of toleration. The rulers of Spain, observing that it opposed all their schemes of reform, resolved to get rid of an obstacle, which met them at every turn. In France, the Jesuits had just been treated as a public nuisance, and suppressed at a blow, and without difficulty. The advisers of Charles III. saw no reason why so salutary a measure should not be imitated in their country; and, in 1767, they, following the example which had been set by the French in 1764, abolished this great mainstay of the Church.[1503] Having done this, the government supposed that it had taken a decisive step towards weakening ecclesiastical power, particularly as the sovereign cordially approved of the proceeding. The year after this occurred, Charles III., according to his custom, appeared in the balcony of the palace, on the festival of St. Charles, ready to grant any request which the people might make to him, and which usually consisted of a prayer for the dismissal of a minister, or for the repeal of a tax. On this occasion, however, the citizens of Madrid, instead of occupying themselves with such worldly matters, felt that still dearer interests were in peril; and, to the surprise and terror of the court, they demanded, with one voice, that the Jesuits should be allowed to return, and wear their usual dress, in order that Spain might be gladdened by the sight of these holy men.[1504]

What can you do with a nation like this? What is the use of laws when the current of public opinion thus sets in against them? In the face of such obstacles, the government of Charles III., notwithstanding its good intentions, was powerless. Indeed, it was worse than powerless: it did harm; for, by rousing popular sympathy in favour of the Church, it strengthened what it sought to weaken. On that cruel and persecuting Church, stained as it was with every sort of crime, the Spanish nation continued to bestow marks of affection, which, instead of being diminished, were increased. Gifts and legacies flowed in freely and from every side; men being willing to beggar themselves and their families, in order to swell the general contribution. And to such a height was this carried, that, in 1788, Florida Blanca, minister of the crown, stated that, within the last fifty years, the ecclesiastical revenues had increased so rapidly, that many of them had doubled in value.[1505]

Even the Inquisition, the most barbarous institution which the wit of man has ever devised, was upheld by public opinion against the attacks of the crown. The Spanish government wished to overthrow it, and did everything to weaken it; but the Spanish people loved it as of old, and cherished it as their best protection against the inroads of heresy.[1506] An illustration of this was exhibited in 1778, when, on occasion of a heretic being sentenced by the Inquisition, several of the leading nobles attended as servants, being glad to have an opportunity of publicly displaying their obedience and docility to the Church.[1507]

All these things were natural, and in order. They were the result of a long train of causes, the operation of which I have endeavoured to trace, during thirteen centuries, since the outbreak of the Arian war. Those causes forced the Spaniards to be superstitious, and it was idle mockery to seek to change their nature by legislation. The only remedy for superstition is knowledge. Nothing else can wipe out that plague-spot of the human mind. Without it, the leper remains unwashed, and the slave unfreed. It is to a knowledge of the laws and relations of things, that European civilization is owing; but it is precisely this in which Spain has always been deficient. And until that deficiency is remedied, until science, with her bold and inquisitive spirit, has established her right to investigate all subjects, after her own fashion, and according to her own method, we may be assured that, in Spain, neither literature, nor universities, nor legislators, nor reformers of any kind, will ever be able to rescue the people from that helpless and benighted condition into which the course of affairs has plunged them.

That no great political improvement, however plausible or attractive it may appear, can be productive of lasting benefit, unless it is preceded by a change in public opinion, and that every change of public opinion is preceded by changes in knowledge, are propositions which all history verifies, but which are particularly obvious in the history of Spain. The Spaniards have had everything except knowledge. They have had immense wealth, and fertile and well-peopled territories, in all parts of the globe. Their own country, washed by the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and possessed of excellent harbours, is admirably situated for the purposes of trade between Europe and America, being so placed as to command the commerce of both hemispheres.[1508] They had, at a very early period, ample municipal privileges; they had independent parliaments; they had the right of choosing their own magistrates, and managing their own cities. They have had rich and flourishing towns, abundant manufactures, and skilful artizans, whose choice productions could secure a ready sale in every market in the world. They have cultivated the fine arts with eminent success; their noble and exquisite paintings, and their magnificent churches, being justly ranked among the most wonderful efforts of the human hand. They speak a beautiful, sonorous, and flexible language, and their literature is not unworthy of their language. Their soil yields treasures of every kind. It overflows with wine and oil, and produces the choicest fruits in an almost tropical exuberance.[1509] It contains the most valuable minerals, in a profuse variety unexampled in any other part of Europe. No where else do we find such rare and costly marbles, so easily accessible, and in such close communication with the sea, where they might safely be shipped, and sent to countries which require them.[1510] As to the metals, there is hardly one which Spain does not possess in large quantities. Her mines of silver and of quicksilver are well known. She abounds in copper,[1511] and her supply of lead is enormous.[1512] Iron and coal, the two most useful of all the productions of the inorganic world,[1513] are also abundant in that highly favoured country. Iron is said to exist in every part of Spain, and to be of the best quality;[1514] while the coal-mines of Asturias are described as inexhaustible.[1515] In short, nature has been so prodigal of her bounty, that it has been observed, with hardly an hyperbole, that the Spanish nation possesses within itself nearly every natural production which can satisfy either the necessity or the curiosity of mankind.[1516]

These are splendid gifts; it is for the historian to tell how they have been used. Certainly, the people who possess them have never been deficient in natural endowments. They have had their full share of great statesmen, great kings, great magistrates, and great legislators. They have had many able and vigorous rulers; and their history is ennobled by the frequent appearance of courageous and disinterested patriots, who have sacrificed their all, that they might help their country. The bravery of the people has never been disputed; while, as to the upper classes, the punctilious honour of a Spanish gentleman has passed into a bye-word, and circulated through the world. Of the nation generally, the best observers pronounce them to be high-minded, generous, truthful, full of integrity, warm and zealous friends, affectionate in all the private relations of life, frank, charitable, and humane.[1517] Their sincerity in religious matters is unquestionable;[1518] they are, moreover, eminently temperate and frugal.[1519] Yet, all these great qualities have availed them nothing, and will avail them nothing, so long as they remain ignorant. What the end of all this will be, and whether in their unhappy country the right path will ever be taken, is impossible for any one to say.[1520] But if it is not taken, no amelioration which can possibly be effected will penetrate below the surface. The sole course is, to weaken the superstition of the people; and this can only be done by that march of physical science, which, familiarizing men with conceptions of order and of regularity, gradually encroaches on the old notions of perturbation, of prodigy, and of miracle, and by this means accustoms the mind to explain the vicissitudes of affairs by natural considerations, instead of, as heretofore, by those which are purely supernatural.

To this, in the most advanced countries of Europe, every thing has been tending for nearly three centuries. But in Spain, unfortunately, education has always remained, and still remains, in the hands of the clergy, who steadily oppose that progress of knowledge, which they are well aware would be fatal to their own power.[1521] The people, therefore, resting ignorant, and the causes which kept them in ignorance continuing, it avails the country nothing, that, from time to time, enlightened rulers have come forward, and liberal measures been adopted. The Spanish reformers have, with rare exceptions, eagerly attacked the Church, whose authority they clearly saw ought to be diminished. But what they did not see is, that such diminution can be of no real use unless it is the result of public opinion urging on politicians to the work. In Spain, politicians took the initiative, and the people lagged behind. Hence, in Spain, what was done at one time was sure to be undone at another. When the liberals were in power, they suppressed the Inquisition; but Ferdinand VII. easily restored it, because, though it had been destroyed by Spanish legislators, its existence was suited to the habits and traditions of the Spanish nation.[1522] Fresh changes occurring, this odious tribunal was, in 1820, again abolished. Still, though its form is gone, its spirit lives.[1523] The name, the body, and the visible appearance of the Inquisition, are no more; but the spirit which generated the Inquisition is enshrined in the hearts of the people, and, on slight provocation, would burst forth, and reinstate an institution which is the effect, far more than the cause, of the intolerant bigotry of the Spanish nation.

In the same way, other and more systematic attacks which were made on the Church, during the present century, succeeded at first, but were sure to be eventually baffled.[1524] Under Joseph, in 1809, the monastic orders were suppressed, and their property was confiscated.[1525] Little, however, did Spain gain by this. The nation was on their side;[1526] and as soon as the storm passed away, they were restored. In 1836, there was another political movement, and the liberals being at the head of affairs, Mendizabal secularized all the Church property, and deprived the clergy of nearly the whole of their enormous and ill-gotten wealth.[1527] He did not know how foolish it is to attack an institution, unless you can first lessen its influence. Overrating the power of legislation, he underrated the power of opinion. This, the result clearly showed. Within a very few years, the reaction began. In 1845, was enacted what was called the law of devolution, by which the first step was taken towards the re-endowment of the clergy.[1528] In 1851, their position was still further improved by the celebrated Concordat, in which the right of acquiring, as well as of possessing, was solemnly confirmed to them.[1529] With all this, the nation heartily concurred.[1530] Such, however, was the madness of the liberal party, that, only four years afterwards, when they for a moment obtained power, they forcibly annulled these arrangements, and revoked concessions which had been made to the Church, and which, unhappily for Spain, public opinion had ratified.[1531] The results might have been easily foreseen. In Aragon and in other parts of Spain, the people flew to arms; a Carlist insurrection broke out, and a cry ran through the country, that religion was in danger.[1532] It is impossible to benefit such a nation as this. The reformers were, of course, overthrown, and by the autumn of 1856 their party was broken up. The political reaction now began, and advanced so rapidly, that, by the spring of 1857, the policy of the two preceding years was completely reversed. Those who idly thought that they could regenerate their country by laws, saw all their hopes confounded. A ministry was formed, whose measures were more in accordance with the national mind. In May 1857, Cortes assembled. The representatives of the people sanctioned the proceedings of the executive government, and, by their united authority, the worst provisions of the Concordat of 1851 were amply confirmed, the sale of Church property was forbidden, and all the limitations which had been set to the power of the bishops were at once removed.[1533]

The reader will now be able to understand the real nature of Spanish civilization. He will see how, under the high-sounding names of loyalty and religion, lurk the deadly evils which those names have always concealed, but which it is the business of the historian to drag to light and expose. A blind spirit of reverence, taking the form of an unworthy and ignominious submission to the Crown and the Church, is the capital and essential vice of the Spanish people. It is their sole national vice, and it has sufficed to ruin them. From it all nations have grievously suffered, and many still suffer. But nowhere in Europe, has this principle been so long supreme as in Spain. Therefore, nowhere else in Europe are the consequences so manifest and so fatal. The idea of liberty is extinct, if, indeed, in the true sense of the word, it ever can be said to have existed. Outbreaks, no doubt, there have been, and will be; but they are bursts of lawlessness, rather than of liberty. In the most civilized countries, the tendency always is, to obey even unjust laws, but while obeying them, to insist on their repeal. This is because we perceive that it is better to remove grievances than to resist them. While we submit to the particular hardship, we assail the system from which the hardship flows. For a nation to take this view, requires a certain reach of mind, which, in the darker periods of European history, was unattainable. Hence we find, that, in the middle ages, though tumults were incessant, rebellions were rare. But, since the sixteenth century, local insurrections, provoked by immediate injustice, are diminishing, and are being superseded by revolutions, which strike at once at the source from whence the injustice proceeds. There can be no doubt that this change is beneficial; partly because it is always good to rise from effects to causes, and partly because revolutions being less frequent than insurrections, the peace of society would be more rarely disturbed, if men confined themselves entirely to the larger remedy. At the same time, insurrections are generally wrong; revolutions are always right. An insurrection is too often the mad and passionate effort of ignorant persons, who are impatient under some immediate injury, and never stop to investigate its remote and general causes. But a revolution, when it is the work of the nation itself, is a splendid and imposing spectacle, because to the moral quality of indignation produced by the presence of evil, it adds the intellectual qualities of foresight and combination; and, uniting in the same act some of the highest properties of our nature, it achieves a double purpose, not only punishing the oppressor, but also relieving the oppressed.