Europe may be compared to those men of great capacity and of active and intrepid characters, who are either the very best or the very worst of men. Scarcely can a single fact of any weight remain isolated in Europe: there is not a truth that is not useful, nor an error that is not fatal. Ideas have a tendency to become realized, and facts, in their turn, incessantly call in the aid of ideas. If virtues exist, they are explained, and their foundation is sought for in elevated theories. If crimes are met with, their vindication is attempted on the authority of perverse theories. Nations do not rest satisfied with the practice either of good or evil—they strive to propagate it, and are restless till they have induced their neighbors to imitate them. Nay, there is something beyond a mere spirit of proselytism limited to a few countries—ideas, in our times, aim at nothing short of universal empire. The spirit of propagandism does not date from the French Revolution, nor even from the sixteenth century; from the very dawn of civilization, from the times when the minds of men began to evince symptoms of activity, this phenomenon is apparent, and in a very striking manner. In the agitated Europe of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, we behold the Europe of the nineteenth century, just as the imperfectly defined lineaments of the germ contain forms of the future being.

A great part of the sects which assailed the Church, dating from the tenth century, were decidedly revolutionary; they either proceeded from the fatal democracy which I have just mentioned, or derived their support from it. Unfortunately this democracy, restless, unjust and turbulent, having compromised the tranquillity of Europe in the centuries anterior to the sixteenth, found in Protestantism its most fervent propagators. Among the numerous sects into which the pretended reform was immediately divided, some opened the way for it, and others adopted it as their standard. And what must have been the result in the political organization of Europe? I will say it candidly: the disappearance of those political institutions which enabled the different classes of the state to take part in its affairs, was inevitable. Now, as it was very difficult for the European people, considering their character, ideas and customs, to submit for ever to their new condition, as their predominant inclination must have urged them to place bounds upon the extension of power, it was natural that revolutions should ensue; it was natural that future generations should have to witness great catastrophes, such as the English Revolution of the seventeenth century and the French Revolution of the eighteenth. There was a time when it might have been difficult to comprehend these truths; that time is past. The revolutions in which for some centuries the different nations of Europe have been successively involved, have brought within the reach of the least intelligent that social law so frequently realized, viz. that anarchy leads to despotism, and that despotism begets anarchy. Never, at any time, in any nation (history and experience prove the fact), have anti-social ideas been inculcated, the minds of the people been imbued with the spirit of insubordination and rebellion, without almost immediately provoking the application of the only remedy at the command of nations in such conflicts, the establishment of a very strong government, which justly or unjustly, legally or not, lifts up its iron arm over every one, and makes all heads bend under its yoke. To clamor and tumult succeeds the most profound silence; the people then easily become resigned to their new condition, for reflection and instinct teach them that although it is well to possess a certain amount of liberty, the first want of society is self-preservation.

What was the case in Germany, after the introduction of Protestantism by a succession of religious revolutions? Maxims destructive of all society were propagated, factions formed, insurrections took place; upon the field of battle and upon the scaffolds blood flowed in torrents; but no sooner did the instinct of social preservation begin to operate, than, instead of popular forms being established and taking root, every thing tended towards the opposite extreme. And was not this the country in which the people had been flattered by the prospect of unrestrained liberty, of a repartition and even a community of property; in fine, by the promise of the most absolute equality in every thing. Yet, in this same country, the most striking inequality prevailed, and the feudal aristocracy preserved its full force. In other countries, in which no such hopes of liberty and equality had been held out, we can scarcely discover the limits which separated the nobility from the people. In Germany, the nobility still retained their wealth and their preponderance, were still surrounded by titles, privileges, and distinctions of every description. In that very country, in which there were such outcries against the power of kings, in which the name of king was declared synonymous with tyrant, the most absolute monarchy was established; and the apostate of the Teutonic order founded that kingdom of Prussia, from which representative forms are still excluded.[C] In Denmark, Protestantism was established, and with it absolute power immediately took deep root; in Sweden we find, at the very same time, the power of Gustavus established.

What was the case in England? Representative forms were not introduced into that country by Protestantism; they existed centuries before, as well as in other nations of Europe. But the monarch who founded the Anglican Church was distinguished for his despotism, and the Parliament, which ought to have restrained him, was most shamefully degraded. What idea can we form of the liberty of a country whose legislators and representatives debased themselves so far as to declare, that any one obtaining a knowledge of the illicit amours of the Queen is bound, under pain of high treason, to bring an accusation against her? What can we think of the liberty of a country, in which the very men who ought to defend that liberty, cringe with so much baseness to the unruly passions of the monarch, that they are not ashamed, in order to flatter the jealousy of the sovereign, to establish that any young female who should marry a king of England, should, under a pain of high treason, be compelled before her marriage to reveal any stain there might be on her virtue? Such ignominious enactments are certainly a stronger proof of abject servility than the declaration of that same Parliament, establishing that the mere will of the monarch should have the force of law. Representative forms preserved in that country at a time when they had disappeared from almost every other nation of Europe, were not, however, a guarantee against tyranny; for the English cannot assuredly boast of the liberty they enjoyed under the reigns of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth. Perhaps in no country in Europe was less liberty enjoyed, in no country were the people more oppressed under popular forms, in no country did despotism prevail to a greater extent. If there be anything which can convince us of these truths, in case the facts already cited should be found insufficient, it is undoubtedly the efforts made by the English to acquire liberty. And if the efforts made to shake off the yoke of oppression are to be regarded as a sure sign of its galling effects, we are justified in thinking that the oppression under which England was groaning must have been very severe, since that country has passed through so long and terrible a revolution, in which so many tears and so much blood has been shed.

When we consider what has taken place in France, we remark that religious wars have always given an ascendency to royal power. After such long agitations, so many troubles and civil wars, we see the reign of Louis XIV., and we hear that proud monarch exclaim, "I am the state." We have here the most complete personification of the absolute power which always follows anarchy. Have the European nations had to complain of the unlimited power exercised by monarchs? have they had to regret that all the representative forms which could ensure their liberties perished under the ascendency of the throne? Let them blame Protestantism for it, which spreading the germs of anarchy all over Europe, created an imperious, urgent, and inevitable necessity for centralizing rule, for fortifying royal power: it was necessary to stop up every source from which dissolvent principles might flow, and to keep within narrow bounds all the elements which, by contact and vicinity, were ready to ignite and produce a fatal conflagration.

Every reflecting man will agree with me on this point. Considering the aggrandizement of absolute power, they will discover in it nothing but the realization of a fact already long ago everywhere observed. Assuredly, the monarchs of Europe cannot be compared, either by the fact of their origin or the character of their measures, to those despots who, under different titles, have usurped the command of society at the critical moment when it was near its dissolution; but it may be said with reason, that the unlimited extent of their power has been caused by a great social necessity, viz. that of one sole and forcible authority, without which the preservation of public order was impossible. We cannot without dismay take a view of Europe after the appearance of Protestantism. What frightful dissolution! What erroneous ideas! What relaxation of morals! What a multitude of sects! What animosity in men's minds! What rage, what ferocity! Violent disputes, interminable debates, accusations, recriminations without end; troubles, rebellion, intestine and foreign wars, sanguinary battles, and atrocious punishments. Such is the picture that Europe presents; such are the effects of this apple of discord thrown among men who are brethren. And what was sure to be the result of this confusion, of this retrograde movement, by which society seemed returning to violent means, to the tyranny of might over right? The result was sure to be what it has in fact been: the instinct of preservation, stronger than the passions and the frenzy of man, was sure to prevail; it suggested to Europe the only means of self-preservation; royal power, already in the ascendant, and verging towards its highest point, was sure to end by attaining it in reality; there to become isolated and completely separated from the people, and to impose silence on popular passions. What ought to have been effected by a wise direction of ideas, was accomplished by the force of a very powerful institution; the vigor of the sceptre had to neutralize the impulse given to society towards its ruin. If we consider attentively, we shall find that such is the meaning of the event of 1680 in Sweden, when that country was subjected to the fierce will of Charles XI.; such the meaning of the event of 1669 in Denmark, when that nation, wearied with anarchy, supplicated King Frederick III. to declare the monarchy hereditary and absolute, which he in fact did; such, in fine, is the meaning of what took place in Holland in 1747, and of the creation of an hereditary stadtholder. If we require more convincing examples, we have the despotism of Cromwell in England after such terrible revolutions, and that of Napoleon in France after the republic.[37]

[CHAPTER LXIV.]
STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE THREE SOCIAL ELEMENTS.

When once these three elements of government, monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, began each to contend for the ascendency, the most certain means of securing the victory to monarchy, to the exclusion of the other two elements, was to drive one of these latter into acts of turbulence and outrage; for it thus became absolutely necessary to establish one sole, powerful, unfettered centre of action, that would be able to awe the turbulent and to insure public order. Now, just at this time, the position of the popular element was full of hope, but also beset with dangers; and hence, to preserve the influence it had already acquired, and to increase its ascendency and power, the greatest moderation and circumspection were requisite. Monarchy had already acquired great power, and, having obtained it in part by espousing the cause of the people against the lords, it came to be regarded as the natural protector of popular interests. It certainly had some claims to this title, but no less certainly did it find in this circumstance a most favorable opportunity for extending its power to an unlimited degree, at the expense of the rights and liberties of the people.